Those of us who are old enough will probably never forget this terrific race from the 1972 Olympics in Munich:
I was a cross-country runner my freshman year of high school. The first couple of meets we had, I tried to keep up with the leaders at the beginning of the race, and found myself unable to contend late, dropping back as I became exhausted. The first couple of races I finished next to last, only beating one poor guy on our team who was hopeless.
So when we went to a bit meet in Iona, NY, with something like 500 runners, I decided not to wear myself out early. I was last or near last as we entered the woods, about 1/4 of the way into the race. But I was running easily and not fatigued like I had been in my earlier races. And I started passing people. Lots of people. When we came out of the woods and headed towards the finishing line, my coach was yelling at me to run harder. I still had a little bit of energy left, and passed a couple more people. At the finish line they had the runners were funneled into a rope-line. I looked ahead and was startled to see that there were maybe 20 boys ahead of me in the line.
So after that, I always took it easy in the beginning and made sure I had something left to give at the end. Unfortunately before the end of the season I pulled a muscle in my lower leg during a meet and was out for the season, so I didn't keep up my running. But I was thrilled at Wottle's victory because it confirmed that my strategy had been right.