It was times like those when I appreciated the ‘Sharon Factor’.
To me, a coach is the most important part of my training, my confidence, my talent and of course my preparation. There is no way I would be as good as I am today without my dedicated coach. She is on a mission to become the best athletics coach she can be, whether that’s coaching me or coaching club-level athletes.
Sharon just loves to coach, and you can hear in her voice how passionate she is about the sport and about learning how to better herself so she can help athletes achieve their goals. To me that is a very selfless act, especially considering athletes can be very selfish people who only care about being the best athlete they can be – me included.
I don’t say thank you enough to the people who have my best interests at heart, and who have helped me to become the best athlete in the world. My mission, as well as being the best athlete I can be, is to be more aware of the people around me and to make sure they know how appreciative I am of their efforts.
Sharon had been by my side for 14 years and, more than ever, I needed her magic to work. As usual she had a theory about what had been going wrong. She’d analysed all my races and had figured out that my hurdle clearances over the whole race were only .12 slower than Daegu. But the speed in between the hurdles over the whole race was .4 slower, which is almost half a second. What was stopping me from running fast was the speed in between the hurdles. It was great to have some kind of explanation of what was going on.
We both knew there was enough time to get that speed back before Moscow, but could I get it back in time for my final lead-up race in London? There was something extra-special about the event because it was being held in the Olympic Stadium. The thought of going back to where all my dreams had come true 12 months earlier was the shot of excitement I needed.
Add that to the fact that I could feel things starting to click after some solid speed sessions at training and I felt a bit like the old me again. There was certainly a familiarity about the warm-up, and it actually felt like the Olympics.
When I entered the stadium, the memories came flooding back, as once again, there was not a spare seat in the house. It was an incredible atmosphere, and it went up a level when Jessica Ennis, the heptathlon gold medalist who was in my 100m hurdles event, was introduced.
As I got on the blocks I figured that surely these circumstances would bring something special out. At halfway I smiled and said to myself: ‘Oh, thank God.’
It was nice finally to feel like I knew how to hurdle again. I felt smooth and was already well clear of the other girls. I was cautious over the final two hurdles because I didn’t want any mistakes; I just wanted to get to the finish line first.
When I achieved that, I looked at the clock, which read 12.65. I was hoping for faster but, importantly, I knew there was a lot more in me.
You couldn’t wipe the smile from my face afterwards, and it turned out I’d won comfortably from Britain’s Tiffany Porter (12.76) and American Kellie Wells (12.95). I was actually more relieved than I’d been at the Olympics because it had been such a tough month.
For the first time in a while, I was happy to front the press and decided to deliver a message to those who’d written me off.
‘It’s hard when you are Olympic and world champion and getting absolutely smashed in races and having bad comments about you,’ I said. ‘[But] it’s nice today to come out and know that I am a champion and I know how to get the job done.’
Two days later I was on the massage table with my good friend Bruno in Tonbridge and, as usual, he was relaying his theories on life. One of them I liked a lot.
‘The difference is you’re just running with them now,’ Bruno said.
‘They’re running the same as they always do this time of the year but you’re running with them. They are used to you being out in front. The thing is: because you’re running with them, they think they can beat you now, which is hilarious because they can’t. You’re getting better and better and they’re just staying the same as they always do.’
Bruno was on the money again. I was getting better.
* * *
It was so fast.
Given how I’d felt so slow for the past few months, the quickness of the warm-up track in Moscow was unnerving.
My first session had been a disaster. If a track is fast, it can throw out your rhythm, as your body and mind aren’t working in tandem with the spring and bounce you’re getting off the ground. This all adds up to one big mess for a hurdler.
I was becoming more and more frustrated as my second hurdling session started the same way. I was getting too close to the hurdles, and it almost felt like I didn’t know what I was doing.
‘Why can’t I hurdle? I kept asking Sharon. ‘What if this happens on the real track at the stadium?’
It was freaking me out because I’d worked so hard to get my speed back and to feel normal again; then I’d arrived at the world championships and all the good work seemed to have gone out the window.
Patience. Patience. Patience.
I was sick of hearing the word from my coach, but she was sticking by it. The key was we had plenty of time, as we’d arrived in Moscow on the Tuesday before the championships commenced on the Saturday. Well, they commenced for a lot of people then – my first-round heat wasn’t until the following Friday.
I found the waiting around particularly tough. While the program had been exactly the same in Daegu, I seemed to forget how long the wait felt every time. Staying focused on the job can be quite tough when you’re scheduled at the end of the program.
You have to remain calm and relaxed, but at the same time remember that you have a job to do and remind your body that it’s not time to shut down yet. It’s a delicate balancing act, because if you’re thinking about things all the time, then your body stays tense, which is not ideal.
The key is to know when it’s okay to switch off and switch on. This takes years of trial and error to get right. Ideally when you’re not at the track, then you switch your mind and body off – but when you’re at the track, every light bulb has to be on and ready for what you’re about to do.
As a young athlete there are always people giving you advice on how to do this, but it comes down to experience. There will be some disappointing moments as you learn how to deal with these situations, but it’s how you deal with them the next time and the one after that which will make you a better athlete.
I found I was best suited to sticking to the same routine. The 4x100m boys, who were also at the end of the program and dealing with the same issues, refer to it as ‘Groundhog Day’ – which just happens to be one of my favourite movies.
With my heat scheduled for 9.30 am on the Friday, I trained myself to wake early, like I would on race morning, when I’d be required to catch the 7 am bus to the warm-up track to start preparation.
This meant that for the four days leading up, I had the alarm set for 6 am. I would get up, go downstairs for breakfast to kill a bit of time, and then head back up to the room to watch the morning session or another episode of the popular TV series Suits, which had been recommended to me by Bruno. He’d warned me that it was addictive and had suggested to everyone on the team to get involved. Good old Bruno was right again – I was hooked.
At lunchtime I’d wander down to the foyer of the Crowne Plaza Hotel, where were staying, and have a chat to whoever was about. Staying in a hotel is very different from the vibe and atmosphere of an athletes’ village. I prefer the village style, because there you share an apartment complex with six or eight girls and there’s a communal area where you can all sit and chat. There was nothing like that in Moscow.
My roommate was javelin thrower Kathryn Mitchell, who was also competing at the back end of the program, but she had her own routine and we really didn’t see much of each other.
There were a number of other teams, including the US, who were staying in the same hotel, so the foyer was a hive of activity and I’d regularly bump into a couple of my rivals.
Kieran, Mum and my manager, Robert, were all staying at a different hotel, so I’d often kill a part of the afternoon by meeting them and going for a walk up to one of the shopping centres that were about a kilometre from the hotel.
In the lead-up to the start of the championships, I’d had the opportunity to see a few of the sights of Moscow while I did some media events. The IAAF press call was in the famous Red Square, and I was pleased to get a few snaps there with some of my counterparts, including the lovely Allyson Felix, the 200m Olympic champion.
I’d picked up another title to put alongside my name for these championships, which was a great honour. Now I had Australian Flame captain to go with Olympic champion and defending world champion.
I had some big shoes to fill, as Steve Hooker had been sensational in the role, but he wasn’t in Moscow so the baton had been passed to me. I actually took a little time to think about it before accepting, but then I realised there was a generational change happening that would make it easier.
What excited me was the fact that there were so many new faces in the Australian team – 19 debutants to be exact – and I figured I could make a big difference in helping them to understand what it’s like to be an international athlete at a world championships. Sometimes it can be quite overwhelming, and while I obviously had to make sure the role didn’t take away from my own preparation, I was confident I could help my teammates. I also had an able deputy in javelin thrower Kim Mickle, who was the life of the team and a seriously funny girl.
I found myself being chief cheerleader a couple of times.
Each evening I would be locked into watching the athletics. The performance of Flame teammate Zoe Buckman as she won her 1500m heat, and then the semifinal, had me jumping around on my bed.
The night before my heat I was down in the foyer watching the action with Sharon and Kathryn and was literally out of my seat cheering when Tristan Thomas ran an amazing final leg in the heats of the 4x400m relay to get the Australian team through to the final. He’d received the baton in fifth position but surged over the top in the final 150 metres to grab second.
It was inspiring stuff but I figured I needed to calm it down a touch, as I needed a good night’s sleep. My day had finally arrived.