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| Lane four | |
| By JeffFernandez | ||||
| 21 February 2006 | ||||
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This is linked with the other stories of Mr focus, Reduction and under ten. Let me know what you think. Can someone please review the journey...... Lane FourHear the fire of the gun... Commentator: " And they're off...a good start from the runners.. it's going to be close." The start was good I think I am in the pack as it were. This is obviously a very tough race and one I needed to experience. It has not been easy at all. The injuries, the death of my coach and the problem with that dodgy urine sample all did not help ( I am sure it wasn't mine). The media were calling this race my rehabilitation but I knew it was more than that. I would have been one of the favourites but the ban and the depression kept me back. It was not easy. " You're sample has come back with something in it." My coach said and that was the hammer blow. The same feeling I guess I had when I heard my mother was terminally ill with cancer and was going to die. It was a numbness that took over me...it was familiar but I was powerless to fight against it. I took three months to recover from. It was a real problem. " What does that mean in real terms. I have not taken anything. What the hell was it?" " Don't know until we get the tests back though. But I will check." " Can I still run in the meantime?" But I knew the answer to that. It was out of desperation that I asked that question really. But I was desperate then. It was my life and the only thing I knew how to do really. The pain I was feeling was it was being taken away from me. It hurt worse than anything. I was banned for three years after they found something that was banned and linked to steroids. I never knowingly took anything to enhance my performance but that was it for me. I had the right to appeal but that would be personally, asking a lot from me. I had stamina but only for running and not for facing one of life's crisis. But it crisis it was. I became very depressed. So depressed and withdrawn that my cousins and girlfriend did not want to be around me. Infact the last act of kindness from my girlfriend was an appointment with the GP for treating my depression, before she left me with a Dear John letter and pissed off never to be seen again. I wonder what she is doing now? Ah... what am I thinking? " Mr Fareel... what seems to be the problem? It's the drug scandal isn't it? Tell me what the problem is..." I started to cry. I mean I didn't know where to start. If he had not asked me an open question I would have (maybe) not have cried so embarrassingly. But I did, after two minutes I sort of composed myself and explained what was going on. " Depression ... maybe a low lying one at that and I will start you on a short course of SSRI treatment." Well I did not know what he was talking about but had only one question. " Will it make me feel better?" " I hope so... see me again in three weeks." I took the tablets and I did start to feel better after three weeks. Not a sea change in my mood but a little bit better. I decided to try and break out of this feeling and started jogging. This got me out and I started to get fit again. I also noticed that it was important for me to get out and into the outside world. It sometime became too scary to step out into if you spend all day indoors. Also in the autumn the colours in the park are so beautiful. It does remind oneself's that to be alive and experience such things is indeed worth it. I called my coach and informed him that I was in treatment for depression and it was working well. I had started to run again and was losing weight and getting fitter. He seemed happy for me and we aimed for a date that I would come down to the track and start running and training. This was important for me and the idea of getting to see a way out was indeed important. * * * * * * * * * * * * Commentator " It's the half-way stage and Great Britain and America and the pack are still sooo close." I was still in there, and this was good form. I knew I could do it. * * * * * * * * * * * * "Hi coach... I here and fit and injury free. What the plan?" He smiled at me in one of those kind and considered smiles I associated with my Dad. " Look... since you have been away...." Well another crisis. What else could possibility go wrong now? He was ill and had developed bowel cancer and was not long for this world. He was given one year at best. My ban was for another more year. He would do what he can but it was unfair he felt on me to coach me like in the old days. Anyway he was winding down now. This was all I needed to take the wind from under my feet again. But importantly I did not retire into the space I had come from. It was the words he said to me which challenged my behaviour and natural instinct to crawl under a stone. " You have never let me down...but you have let yourself and your talent down. You are a great runner, but you need to believe it and run like you are a winner. Especially now. They will all want you to fall... show the strength and stamina you have physically in your mindset. That were you can improve. It would be wonderful to see. " Great words but the fact that he gave me so much and wanted to see me running again was indeed the focus and goal I needed to avoid the pitfall of moving back. I had a year and I trained every single day, even over Christmas I was out there running through the park. I wish he could see me run sooner, as I was feeling great now, and getting better all the time. I was also experiencing a new focus, which gave me stamina to run further. Was my mindset changing or was it the drugs, I hope anti-depressants have no hint of steroid in them? Well I hope so... The first National race was in Sheffield. It was a strong line up and we where all in the final that could have been predicted before the trial and event began. It was a race where I had surprised a few people. I had been out for years. I was supposed to be out of shape but here I was. I knew the new skills and strength I had found was not physical but mental. My attitude was so focussed on the race and remembering the words of my former coach that it made the nerves I used to feel before a race fade away. It was excellent to experience this focus and what it did to my running and I was not going to let it go. But it had to be said, I struggled in that race, as it was so fast I was really pushing myself to get into the pack to stand a chance of qualifying. The fact that I was in with a real chance to qualify after being out for so long was something really. But despite my new found mental strength, my physical shape was not the greatest. Infact judging by the Sheffield race it was fourth best, but I had made the national team and this was so important. The relief was like a watershed, and for the first time in years since I was eight and hurt by leg, and of course the GP, I started to cry in public. It was a relief and I felt I was back to where I was and belonged. Infact the tears just kept coming and coming, and I was worried I might de-hydrate. But I did not care. Even though I was crying I felt great. Coming into this race was different. It was a bigger international field and the semi-finals were the hardest race I had run so far. There was not much difference in the field and we had all run similar Personal Bests this year. It was going to be how you felt on the day, and how you ran. I ran like the wind, but that only got be into second place and therefore the fourth lane. Not ideal but off the running pack and near Mr Focus the ‘Hot' favourite. He looked so mean and powerful, but for once he did not intimidate me. " Remember the race is won in the latter stages in your mind. It is that extra ten percent which can and does make all the difference. Physically you are in the best shape, you cannot get any better, but your mindset was always something I thought could be improved. Not now, I feel you have it." He said that before he was admitted into hospital. That was to be his last admission as he never came out. Those words were banging around my brain right now. It was the confidence boost I needed, he had that knack of saying the right thing before an important race. It was the last piece of advice he gave me but it was the one that meant the most. I felt like a winner now and felt |I had a real chance. " Remember no-one expects you in the final." * * * * * * * * * * * * Yes of course coach but here I was in the thick of it. I glanced across. I was in the pack I had a chance. Commentator " Well...well well.... What a race and a whisker will define the winner and the person in sixth place. It was so close. Six people under ten seconds...... a photo finish..... Yes it was close...Fingers crossed luck was on my side and my coach in spirit.
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