Stotanism

“Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” 

–UCLA football coach, Red Saunders (often attributed to Vince Lombardi)

By Tom Bulger

There is a philosophy that has gained more and more credence among some coaches in a variety of sports. It is not a new philosophy, but we’re in an age where it has become more and more prevalent. It is called “stotanism.”

The first usage of the word stotan was by the eccentric Australian running coach, Percy Cerutty, in the 1950s and 1960s. He uses the term to explain why one of his top protégées, Herb Elliot, the great Australian miler, was different from other runners. Stotanism combines the ability to endure pain (stoic) with the never-say-die philosophy of Spartan soldiers. At the heart of stotanism is the age-old adage, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” and its corollary, “No pain, no gain.” More on the terrible fallacy of these clichés later.

In the interest of public disclosure, I must admit my running days were governed by stotanesque principles. I ran too hard, too long for years. This took a toll, especially with very flat feet, so I incurred lots of running injuries that required surgery. I may have as many replacement parts in my body as originals. But here is the thing about my stotanism, I personally chose to do it. No coach or team dictated my behavior. The primary reason I chose it is that distance running was the best antidote I could find for dealing with my serious depression. I knew what I was doing to myself. From the time I spent with physical therapist John Repsher, after my first serious injury, he kept pointing me to a sign taped on his desk: No pain = no gain = no brain. I ignored this because of my depression.

There are examples of stotanism in most sports. The novel “Stotan!” written by Chris Crutcher, 1986, is about a swimming team that adopted this approach. In football, it can be found in numerous instances. One example is when Darryl Royal coached at University at Texas. Practices were often conducted in the intense summer heat, and players were denied water to make them tougher. Those that didn’t make it were shoved aside. There are many individual examples of this, including Lance Armstrong in cycling.

But the sport I wish to concentrate on is the sport of distance running, my sport of choice. Probably the epitome of stotanism in running was the great Czech Olympic star, Emile Zatopek. He trained and raced at levels that would seriously injure or kill most runners. His training led him to workouts on the track where he ran 20x200s, 40x400s and 20x200s, with “rest laps” of 200 meters. At the 1952 Helsinki Olympics, he won gold in the 5K, 10K and the marathon, breaking Olympic records in each event. At the start of the marathon, he was quoted as telling his fellow competitors, “Men, today we die a little.” It shows that he would go to any lengths to run his fastest. 

It also demonstrates that Emile Zatopek had a body that was anatomically perfect for running. Very few human bodies are capable of surviving the kinds of strain that he endured. Many distance runners keep pushing until they find the limit their body imposes. No one knows what their limits are until you go over the edge and get seriously hurt. If an individual chooses to do this, it’s a choice they have made. It is quite another thing when the stotan path is preached by a coach or program. Then the runner is forced by peer, team and coaching pressure to run beyond their physiological limits. 

If you look at win-loss records, there are some successful teams that demand stotanism from all their runners. One of the most successful win-loss high school running programs in New York has been Fayetteville-Manlius, whose high school mascot name is the Hornets – but their cross-country team had adopted the name stotans. That is their philosophy as a team. What such a philosophy does is simple. For those who survive the training, they become the best runners they can be. Those who don’t are on the injured runner’s list and are replaceable. Many end-up with serious injuries or they abandon running. Neither of these outcomes promotes physical or psychological health. 

What this does to the high school running scene? It convinces other schools to adopt versions of stotanism, in order to compete for victory. It is analogous to grade inflation, where some Ivy League schools gave high grades to its students because they had “the best” students. This forced other schools to inflate grades so non-Ivy league students could compete with comparable grade-point averages.

Stotanism is not confined to high schools. Read “Running with the Buffaloes” by Chris Lear, 2000, which chronicles the University of Colorado cross-country team’s 1998 season, from late summer practices to their men’s NCAA cross-country championships. Though the word stotan is never used in this book, it is painfully obvious that coach Mark Wetmore revolved his training around the stotan philosophy. It records how the team attempts to keep up with All-American (and uber-stotan) Adam Goucher, resulting in a pile of injuries to many of 

the team’s runners. Consider this quote in the book about the coach, ‘[He] set about creating [a program] where he and his athletes would ‘suffer as much as we can to see how good we can be, safety be damned.’’     

It sounds a lot like the myth of Icarus flying too close to the sun. As one chapter leads to the next, injured runners keep piling up, making the training room resemble a MASH unit. These runners are dismissed as collateral damage. The chapter headings offer a brief summary of this damage: “Edge City is a Scary Place;” “Casualty;” “The Miracle Doctor;” and “Another Casualty.” None of these chapters are about the thrill of victory.

It needs to be said that coaches who promote stotanism are poor teachers, not helping all their athletes reach their healthiest potential. The coaches seem to be more concerned with win-loss records. For the student athletes, they have to be honest about what they can do, not worrying that finish place and times will define them. Pain is a clear warning signal, and should be heeded. Otherwise, they will spend away the body’s valuable resources. Parents have to let go of pushing their children to do things that might gain athletic glory, but may ultimately hurt them. 

I still remember a documentary on Mark Spitz, where the interviewer asked if he had the choice between his numerous gold medals and the childhood he missed by always training, he said without any hesitation that he would take his childhood. For educational administrators, they must stop allowing the sports tail to wag the academic dog. Sooner or later, they will face the accountability that Penn State’s administrators faced with the decline and fall of football coach Joe Paterno and members of his staff.

There has to be accountability. Coaches would do well to heed the words of Vince Lombardi, who said late in life about his “winning is everything” message, “I wish to hell I’d never said the damned thing. I meant the effort… I meant having a goal. I sure as hell didn’t mean for people to crush human values and morality.” Stotan coach proponents would do well to listen to these words of wisdom.

Tom Bulger (tbulger@nycap.rr.com) of Menands is retired from Siena College’s English Dept. His first coaching experience was two years under Bob Reilly for Siena men’s cross-country, then founder/coach of Siena women’s cross-country, and first coach of Willow Street Athletic Club. Tom has run 20 marathons with a 2:28 best time.