Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 157 as they explore physical education in antiquity through the work of Henri-Irénée Marrou. Discover the bizarre rules of ancient Olympic running, jumping, discus, and pankration, plus ways to master the Latin language.
Introduction: Saturday Night in the Bunker and Chalking the Wine
Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 157 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting from the subterranean bunker, your hosts, Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe, are recording on a rare Saturday night. Rather than hitting the town like a couple of wild and crazy guys—in the style of Steve Martin and Dan Aykroyd—the hosts are entirely dedicated to bringing classical goodness to the masses.
While Dave admits his muse is feeling a bit fickle tonight, Jeff is feeling quite energized and is eager to return to the classroom. To open the show, Dave delivers a bit about keeping a close watch on his heart. He explains that when he is alone at the end of the day, he enjoys trying various wine varietals, listing off Moscato, Riesling, Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot, Bordeaux, Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, Zinfandel, Shiraz, and Malbec. Realizing he needed a system to keep track of his favorites, he decided against a modern dry-erase board in favor of an old-school green chalkboard. Channeling the famous “boom-chicka-boom” rhythm of Johnny Cash, Dave reveals the punchline: “Because you’re mine, I chalk the wine”.
After wrapping up the musical puns, the hosts provide a quick listener shout-out to Gabriel Kuhl. Gabriel kindly wrote in to correct a historical error from a previous episode: while Robert E. Lee did finish his academic career in Tennessee, the institution now known as Washington and Lee University is firmly located in Virginia.
The Main Event: Marrou and Ancient Physical Education
The primary agenda for today’s episode is continuing their deep dive into Henri-Irénée Marrou’s landmark book, A History of Education in Antiquity. Specifically, the hosts are tackling Part II, Chapter 3, which focuses on “Physical Education”.
To set the stage, Jeff reads an opening quote from a March 1960 journal article by H.A. Harris titled “An Olympic Epigram: The Athletic Feats of Phayllus”. The article analyzes an ancient anonymous elegiac couplet describing an athlete who allegedly managed a long jump of 55 feet and a discus throw of 95 feet. To put the jump into perspective, Jeff notes that the modern world record set by Mike Powell in 1991 is only 29 feet, four and a half inches.
Marrou notes that gymnastics and athletics were the defining, characteristic parts of a young Greek’s education. In fact, participating in athletics was the primary distinguishing mark separating the civilized Greek way of life from that of the barbarians. To fully adopt the customs of the Greeks meant doing physical exercises completely nude on a sports ground.
Interestingly, while the Greeks were a famous seafaring people, swimming was never considered a proper competitive sport. Marrou points out that saying a man could “neither read nor swim” was a common platonic insult used to describe a total nitwit. Similarly, while ball games—such as ball in a triangle, ball in the air, or a type of hockey played with a crooked stick—certainly existed, they were viewed strictly as hygienic amusements rather than proper sports featured in the great Panhellenic meetings.
Running: Suicides and Shin Guards
The most prestigious athletic event was the stadion (or furlong) race, a sprint of 600 feet. However, because the standard measurement of a “foot” varied wildly between ancient cities, the actual distance of the track could fluctuate from roughly 194 yards at Delphi to 230 yards at Pergamos.
Furthermore, ancient running technique was entirely different from modern methods. Greek runners started from a standing position with their bodies bent forward and their feet very close together, avoiding the modern kneeling start. Most surprisingly, the Greeks did not run in circular laps around an oval track. Instead, runners raced down a straight track toward a turning post, wrapped around it, and ran directly back to the starting line. Jeff compares this grueling, back-and-forth method to doing “suicides” or wind sprints in a high school basketball practice.
They also hosted an arms race (hoplitodromos), where runners competed while wearing a helmet and carrying a heavy shield. Wisely, the organizers stopped making the athletes wear metal shin guards (greaves) after 450 BC.
Jumping, Throwing, and the Halteres Mystery
As for field events, the ancient Greeks only competed in the long jump; there was no high jump or pole vaulting. To make a jump legally count, the athlete had to land perfectly balanced with their footprint showing clearly in the leveled soil—slides or landing with one foot in front of the other disqualified the attempt. The most striking feature of the jump was the use of halteres (stone or bronze dumbbells) held in each hand, weighing anywhere from two to ten pounds. Scholars and sports historians still debate exactly how throwing these heavy weights forward or backward actually aided the jumpers.
The ancient discus event also poses unique historical puzzles. Unlike the modern lightweight fiberglass discs, ancient bronze discs varied significantly, with surviving artifacts weighing between three and twelve-and-a-half pounds (though the heaviest were likely just display trophies). Based on statues like Myron’s Discobolus, Marrou notes the throwing technique did not involve the modern centrifugal spin. Instead, the thrower brought his arm down violently behind him, pivoting his weight entirely on his right foot, and launched the disc using the sudden straightening of his thigh.
The javelin throw was similarly unique. The ancient sports javelin was extremely light, about the thickness of a finger, and had no sharp point. To achieve maximum distance, the athlete wrapped a leather thong or sling around the shaft. This acted like a catapult, adding a tight spiral to the throw and effectively doubling or trebling the distance.
Combat Sports: No Pinning, No Rounds, No Rules
Combat sports were an incredibly popular part of the ancient curriculum. Wrestling was so essential that the Greek word palaestra (meaning a ground for wrestling) became the general term for any physical education school. The objective of a wrestling match was strictly to throw the opponent to the ground without falling yourself; simply bringing an opponent to his knees or pinning him did not count. Furthermore, leg holds were completely forbidden; competitors could only grapple the arms, neck, and upper body.
Boxing was a distinctly punishing affair. Fighters wrapped their hands and forearms in hard leather bandages or mittens fastened below the elbow with sheepskin. Because there was no physical ring to corner an opponent, the pace was extremely slow and required immense footwork. There were no rounds, meaning the fight continued uninterrupted until a competitor was either completely exhausted or raised his arm in defeat. Marrou notes that one champion during the reign of the Roman Emperor Titus managed to keep his guard up for two whole days, simply letting his opponent tire himself out without ever landing a single offensive blow.
Finally, the most brutal athletic event was the pankration, an all-in wrestling match resembling modern mixed martial arts. The goal was absolute submission or knockout. Competitors could punch, kick the stomach, twist limbs, bite, and strangle. The only specific rule was that a fighter could not gouge his opponent’s eyes, nose, or mouth—though, as Dave amusingly points out, sticking a finger in the ear was technically fair game. To make matters worse, these fights took place in a watered-down, muddy pit.
Interestingly, Marrou points out that as the Hellenistic era progressed, athletics began to decline in prestige, largely because the rigorous study of literature began monopolizing the students’ time. Later, early Christian moralists (like Tatian and Tertullian) did not object to physical education itself, but they vehemently criticized the vanity, violence, and pure spectacle of professional blood sports in the amphitheaters.
Sponsors: Fueling the Classical Renaissance
Before the hosts have to flee the bunker to escape the angry heirs of the inventor of the card game Rack-O, they thank their wonderful sponsors.
- Ratio Coffee: Upgrade your morning routine with the Ratio 8 or Ratio 6 coffee machine. Created by entrepreneur Mark Hellweg, this beautiful machine flawlessly manages the bloom and brew stages to off-gas carbon dioxide, completely eliminating the nasty “brackish tang” found in cheap coffee makers. Visit ratiocoffee.com and use the code ANCOP8 for 15% off your entire order.
- Hackett Publishing: With offices in Indianapolis and Cambridge, Hackett Publishing continues to provide high-quality, deeply affordable translations for college students and lay readers alike. Do yourself a massive favor and visit hackettpublishing.com; enter the code AN2024 for 20% off your entire order and free shipping.
- MossMethod & LatinPerDiem: Want to skip the translations? Learn ancient Greek from “neophyte to erudite” at mossmethod.com, complete with weekly “Moffice hours”. Or, sign up to master the Latin language from the ground up using Hans Ørberg’s Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata at latinperdiem.com/llpsi.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
To conclude Episode 157, Jeff delivers a legendary, highly pragmatic Gustatory Parting Shot spoken by the character Clemenza from Francis Ford Coppola’s 1972 cinematic masterpiece, The Godfather:
“Leave the gun, take the cannoli.”
Whether you are carrying a shield in an arms race or throwing a bronze discus, keep taking in the classics. Valete!
