The steeplechaser looks back to the 1988 Olympic final in Seoul, where he won bronze in a British record of 8:07.96, which still stands today.
It was my coach, Alan Storey, and my agent, Kim MacDonald, who came up with the idea of a tower track heading into the 1987 season. I wanted to be Steve Ovett. I thought I might have to move up to 5000m, but Alan knew I probably wouldn’t be the world-class 1500m runner I wanted to be.
I went to Portsmouth for a development day and met John Miller who was the 400m hurdles coach. Every Thursday night I would go down to Portsmouth and learn how to hurdle and do technical drills. I trained myself. A lot of the things I ended up doing back then shaped who I am as a coach now. We adapted. We changed. I was very eager to get my obstacles right.
My water jump was terrible. My ankle was swelling, which ended up being a nightmare. I was trying to video my jump and hurdle and we broke it. It’s easy to do on a cell phone these days, but back then it was a whole new realm. Everyone told me it looked good, but I was fooled, so I knew it wasn’t.
I worked out, on one freeze frame, what I was doing wrong. It was just a little thing. Did a little brake work with David Hemery as well and all the little pieces came together.
I did core work every morning and obstacle course after every track session. I always did the 100m hurdles, just to build endurance over the hurdles because I wasn’t a natural runner. I had to learn it. I became obsessed. I wanted to prove people who said I couldn’t do it wrong.
I am a working class guy. I am not an academic. I’m not a smart guy. I just worked hard. Before the Seoul Olympics, I only did eight headquarters. At the 1987 World Trials I hit the barrier and got a hematoma with clots and was out for two weeks. But I was totally bought.
With two young children, family, behavior, hunger – I was motivated to make a living and put food on the table for the children. But, fundamentally, I wanted to be successful, to be the best. In 1987, it was only the penny that I could be good at this despite the criticism.
I didn’t think I was that gifted, so I had to be better. I’m a butcher’s guy, but I cut out red meat. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but I did it. At that time they thought: “There’s more fat there.” I wanted to do everything, everything I could to be the best I could be. I was no Coe, Ovet or Crum. I trained with those guys, but I had to be meticulous in everything else.
I did all the physical and mental preparation instilling confidence and faith. I ended up doing some tapes to relax, relaxing myself. It’s my nature to always worry about the environment, but I’ve learned that I can’t control anyone else or control the weather. I can control myself, now.
Heading into Seoul, I would run an 8:07 clock in the holding camp. I didn’t know how fast I could go, but at that moment I wanted to win. It was all about winning. Italian Francesco Panetta was a world champion, so he was a great player. I knew there were always three Kenyans, so I had to do something good.
We expected the heat to be the most difficult, and not the final, but the semi-final. The semi-finals were more difficult because they are slower. I had better run fast because there was more efficiency.
I went to the village medical center to get quite weak. I had never had a massage in my life, but I needed to loosen up when the heat scared me. Then you stay focused. You stand on the line and just ignore everyone else. For the finale, I was really in the moment, in the zone.
I knew it was going to be fast. I just had to keep them in touch. You never know how fast it’s going to run, but I’d probably ignore it anyway. The one thing you don’t want to do is hit the barrier, and I went first. It woke me up because I didn’t want to go over the hurdles. It touched me. It could have been a blessing in disguise.
Then there was a critical moment when the Kenyans started to go with 1000m left. That’s a critical moment when it went down. Panetta had fallen back, but some of the East Germans had returned and they were beginning to reach the front.
I remember when there was about 800 meters of road, I thought. “It’s here, just stay with them.” Alan told me. “Don’t just start sprinting and stay as long as you can.”
I couldn’t do anything on the back straight. I looked back to see a blur of blue vests. I thought. “Don’t look back.” I was third and there was nothing I could do. In 1987 I was fourth in the world and in Europe.
Peter got in the way of the water jump and then I got in and was pretty good. I felt myself closing in a little more. I just attacked every obstacle. For the last 300m it went into slow motion. I attacked the last one, made it through and it was right there, the finish line.
I’m not disappointed that no one has beaten my British record since. But, now, I’d like to train someone to break it.
Mark Rowland is the Head Coach of the Endurance Program at the University of Edinburgh
As Mark Woods said
