The Ghost Runner

Is the title of a new book by Bill Jones about John Tarrant. Tarrant was a famous runner of the 50s-70s who fell foul of the authorities for owning up to earning £17 from boxing as a young man. Because of this 'crime' he was firstly banned from officially taking part in road races and later on banned from representing GB or even competing abroad. He dealt with these obstacles by jumping into races at the start and competing without a number - hence 'ghost runner'. He became best known for ultra races though he won many smaller ones up and down the country.
It's a 'warts and all' book which recognises that although there was great injustice done to Tarrant, he became very bitter and obsessed with his cause and his wife, family and friends didn't get an easy ride.
It is a good read though in that it paints a vivid picture of post-war Britain, dealing with social, working and sporting lives. It also details the effort Tarrant put into his running and the pain he endured, pain which ultimately he succumbed to after losing his stomach to cancer.
And... it made me want to go out and put my trainers on..

edit: spotted this on the RW Forum. I hope John Shepherd doesn't mind me reproducing it here. I thought I'd keep a copy in case it got lost.

Early in adolescence I read about 'the ghost runner' in the News Chronicle. He became my hero. As a runner I had two battles with him in 1967. In the South London 30 I overtook him to take 2nd place at about 14 miles. "Who is that man?" he asked my club mate, Bill Pluck, who was running with him. "Is he any good?" On hearing that I might win the race he took off after me like a hare and went storming past at an unsustainable pace. By 20 miles I had pulled him back to just 10 yards, the early leader having dropped away but on a hill John pulled away to win easily. I staggered in 7th.
In the London to Brighton a group of about 8 of us shared 2nd place for the first 15 miles. Some Swiss guy we'd never heard of had the early lead. As we passed Vic Tarrant, parked by the side of the road John barked at him "Who is this guy? Is he any good?" Two miles later when we passed Vic again he was sitting in the back of his mini flipping through a deep pile of athletics literature trying hard to satisfy John's request. Another couple of miles and Vic was able to say 'he's done 4 minutes twenty for the 1500 metres'. 'I don't care what he's done for 1500 metres. What's he done for the marathon?' Eventually John's usual impatience got the better of him and he set off after the Swiss guy taking a minute out of us in about a mile which he must have covered in just 5 minutes. Eventually John won and I was 20th. Within the borders of Brighton John got his familiar stomache problems and just stepped on to the grass verge and lowered his shorts. Afterwards he told me when he thought about what he had done he was shocked but at the time he was dazed like in a trance.
John could get into a trance like state in his races. In one race, I think it was the Woodford to Southend there was a roundabout towards the end at which one had to make a right turn. Exhausted and confused Joh made a 180 degree turn and started going back the way he had come. Despite the intervention of other runners, nothing could persuade John that he was going the wrong way and he just kept going back the way he had come.
He was a great character. I regret that I never told him that he had been one of my childhood heroes. John was a bit too honest and blunt for his own good. The sport is a lot poorer as a result of his early death. John Shepherd