The chaotic 1904 St. Louis Olympic Marathon

The 1904 Olympic Marathon wasn't a race; it was a beautifully orchestrated disaster masquerading as sport. Picture this: the winner was kept conscious by doses of strychnine—yes, actual rat poison—and brandy, while the guy who crossed the line first had secretly hitched a ride in a car for eleven miles.

It gets messier. One runner was chased a mile off-course by aggressive dogs, and another took a casual nap mid-race after eating rotten apples. With only two water stops in ninety-degree heat and dust-choked lungs, it is a miracle the finish line didn't double as a morgue.

Wait, why on earth were they feeding the winner actual rat poison?

Honey, back then 'sports science' was just a fancy term for 'let's see what kills him first.' His trainers genuinely believed that tiny hits of strychnine were the ultimate performance enhancer to jumpstart a failing nervous system.

They literally forced this toxic sludge down Thomas Hicks' throat while he was begging to lie down. He didn't win by talent; he won because his coaches were essentially conducting a lethal chemistry experiment on a man who could no longer feel his legs.

Hold on, did he actually survive that cocktail or did he drop dead immediately?

He survived, but only by the skin of his teeth. The second he crossed that line, Hicks collapsed into a terrifying, hallucination-filled stupor. It took four doctors working overtime to ensure his heart didn't just give up after being whipped like a tired horse by that strychnine.

He lost eight pounds during the race and was so delirious he didn't even realize he'd won until he woke up the next day. He never ran professionally again—turns out, having your coaches nearly murder you for a trophy tends to ruin the hobby.

So, did the Olympic committee seriously let him keep the gold medal?

Believe it or not, yes. In 1904, the Olympic rulebook was essentially a blank sheet of paper. Since there were no official bans on performance-enhancing drugs—mostly because nobody realized rat poison counted as one—his "victory" was perfectly legal.

The officials were so desperate to wrap up their dumpster fire of a race that they looked the other way. As long as he didn't literally hitch a ride in a car like the first guy who crossed the line, they were happy to call it a win.

It’s the ultimate historical scandal: Hicks was literally carried across the finish line by his trainers while out of his mind, yet he’s still recorded as the official champion today.

What happened to the guy in the car?

Meet Fred Lorz, who decided running was just a suggestion. After his legs cramped, he spent half the race chilling in his manager’s car, waving at the "suckers" struggling in the heat.

He crossed the line first and nearly got crowned by the President’s daughter. When the crowd realized he’d basically taken an Uber to the podium, he claimed it was just a "hilarious joke."

They banned him for life, but because 1904 was a fever dream, he was reinstated a year later. He eventually won the Boston Marathon for real—no car required.