Back in the days when John Landy was approaching the four-minute mile, a breakthrough 4:02.1 at the Melbourne Club at the end of 1952 attracted skepticism and praise in almost equal measure.
Praise because his performance reignited the chase over the first 4 miles; There are doubts because Landy was at the time a failed Olympic athlete (he ran out in the 1,500 and 5,000 meters heats in Helsinki just months before) and also because – well, because of Melbourne. World-class athletics were held elsewhere, not in Australia.
One notable example of negative reaction came from the delightfully named British comedy series less (look it up) – Arthur Daly. “Pass the salt,” Daly wrote in no less a New York Times publication, mentioning the caliber of the athlete, the competence of the officials and timekeepers, and even questioning the accuracy of the track.
Seventy-four years later, we are much more advanced. Or are we?
Gout Gout ran 19.67 seconds for the 200 meters to win his second Australian Championship at the distance still more than eight months away from his 19th birthday. This represents an improvement of 0.35 seconds over his previous PB of 20.02.
Unlike Landy in 1952, Gout had already established his credentials as an emerging talent. 16-year-old silver medalist at recent U20 World Championships, trains with Noah Lyles thanks in large part to a training grant from sponsor Adidas And making the wise choice to run the 20.02 in Ostrava last year instead of the Melbourne club.
None of your doubts about “passing the salt” then. Rather, the reaction this time was “unicorn conditions.” As specified on LetsRunas the columnist read, the conditions for the rhinoceros are unusually, even strangely, favorable to the athlete.
As is the case, for example, when the wind blows from the west for the point-to-point Boston Marathon from Hopkinton to Boston’s central business district. It’s also generally downhill. Despite some big climbs — Heartbreak Hill, you’ve probably heard about it — the first 10 and last six miles are pretty steep.
The 2026 tournament offered “unicorn terms.” Neither the running press nor the mainstream media have shied away from mentioning this, it must be admitted, but you’d be hard pressed to find any focus on it despite the fact that the race produced a large number of ultra-fast times not seen since. Check Notes…. The last time such conditions prevailed.
Unicorns, anyone? Nary was not mentioned despite some amazingly fast splits on the downhill sections of the course.
I’m not criticizing LetsRun’s coverage of gout. Ignoring the unicorn part, his analysis of the men’s 200m was largely accurate. The most common ‘hit’ in the race was the first of seven consecutive personal bests, from second place Aidan Murphy’s 19.88 (0.53 lb) and Gout’s 0.35. The third, fourth and fifth improved by 0.20-0.30 and the sixth and seventh by 0.14 and 0.06, respectively.
Why? The official wind reading was 1.7 meters per second, a tailwind speed that is within the legal limit of 2 megabytes per second. But the wind through the turn was decisive. I belong to a chat group mostly of former runners and running coaches who have forgotten more about 100’s and 200’s than I will ever know.
One participant speculated that the wind across the bend was more favourable. Returning to Peter Norman, the silver medalist at the 1968 Mexico Olympics who broke his own 200m record last year, he commented:
“I remembered the famous wind at the 1968 National Championships at E.S. Marks Stadium, which were also Olympic Trials.
“It was Easter in North Sydney, just as we saw in Homebush (Place to run gout, LG), coming diagonally through the bend. It was also less than 2 m/s.
“My unreliable memory was that the 200 score was: 1 Peter Norman 20.5, 2 Greg Lewis 20.6, 3 Phil King 20.7 (It was, and the other three finalists got 20.7, 20.8 and 20.9: LG)
“I think they were all PBs at the time (Me too, LJ“)
Easter in Sydney also helps regardless of reading straight. My favorite example came in the 1996 National Tournament of Champions where it was recorded as Headwinds 2.6, as Melinda Gainsford Taylor won the women’s title with a fast time of 22.33, but a tail of 2.9 as Steve Brimacombe ran 20.42 to win the men’s title just minutes later.
On that occasion, the official downwind reading halfway down the main straight was irrelevant because in both races it was the tailwind through the turn that provided the most assistance.
Now, on to Boston where unicorn conditions are a tailwind that only blows hard about once every 10 years. This is ironic, because the course is not fast, a fact confirmed by the results in most years. Boston is slower than more famous courses like Berlin, Chicago and Tokyo.
As mentioned, men’s winner John Currier ran a race record of 2:01:52, finishing the second half in a time of 60:02, including a 28:10 from 30 to 40 km and a final 6:02 for the 2.195 km.
The previous record was 2:03:02 by Geoffrey Mutai in 2011, another year in which the wind blew strongly behind the racers. A better indicator would be a year-over-year comparison from 2025 (also supported by wind, but not as strong this year). Seven of last year’s top ten ran again in 2026, improving their average by two minutes and seven seconds, although only one placed higher than they had the previous year.
In addition to the wind, there was a cooperative attitude to get the race out strong and hold on. Seventh place said Charles Hicks (in 2:04:35!). LetsRun: “They mentioned it several times in the pre-race meetings, you know, you have a tailwind, you have to move forward.
“And I think that crossed a lot of people’s minds. So I think it really pushed what people felt they could achieve, and it also got them ahead of times that they might not have been able to achieve in another race, because the cost was so minimal.”
Although Boston’s slopes make it ineligible for the record (although it’s not usually fast!), this year 16 of the top 20 men achieved “personal bests.” The impact on the women’s race was not clear, although winner Sharon Lokedi covered 67:48 in the second half including 14:48 from 35 to 40 km.
If this isn’t an indication of rhinoceros conditions it’s hard to know what is.
Unicorns look like trams at rush hours. You wait forever to see one, and then two — or in the case of Boston 2026, a whole flock — come along at once.
