2/8/25: British Champs 2025 - Why Trying Matters

4/8/25

The weekend just gone was the British Athletics Championships where I was competing in the 100m Hurdles. It was my first time competing at these championships in five years. Being on that start line giving a thumbs up and a nod to the camera was in itself a massive accomplishment. Like every race this year, it represented the summation of many days, weeks and months thereafter of trying. And trying I believe, may just be what matters most.

Reflecting on my heat is hugely exciting. I ran a 13.21 seasons best, but there were pertinent signs of the progress that is soon to come. For context, my personal best is 13.20 seconds which was a clean and well executed run, and in my heat at the British champs, I smashed four hurdles. I will allow my future performances to elaborate on this.

Reflecting on the final is, several days post race rather amusing, but in the moment, a little sore shall we say. If the race was over nine hurdles I would have had the bronze, but with a tenth hurdle to navigate, I brought the phrase 'falling at the last hurdle' to life, rather brilliantly might I add. In fact if you look up 'falling at the last hurdle' in the idiom dictionary, you find this:

Falling at the Last Hurdle, also known as, Arse Over Head

I've always said if you've got a lane you've got a chance and this race was a powerful demonstration of this. Four of the nine athletes in the race did not finish, including the two athletes with the fastest season's bests. Absolute carnage where anything can happen. Nevertheless, three very deserving athletes took home the medals, with Alicia Barrett winning her second British title in an incredible display of resilience and hard work; Abigail Pawlett taking home a brilliant silver and Emily Tyrrell amazingly taking nearly half a second off her PB to claim bronze. As you can see, I went down like a sack of potatoes which, watching the above video back is really tickling me; I'm not sure why as there's nothing funny about the lack of skin that remains on the left side of my body. But what happened after this race was I believe more valuable to me than finishing the race upright would have been.

After congratulating the athletes that managed to finish the race, which was alarmingly only five women, I hobbled my way off the track, but as I was leaving, a group of about twenty children called out, asking me to come and sign their programmes. I checked over my shoulder to make sure they were actually talking to me as that would have been rather embarrassing to have hot footed it over there and forced my signature upon these poor kids. Sure enough, it was me they were talking to so I gladly went over and signed their programmes and took some pictures. I jokingly said to them, "you do know I didn't win don't you. I was the wally falling over!". In response to that one of the kids said, "yeah, but you got up!". Excuse me whilst I burst into flames.

That right there bookended an experience which I don't doubt I will credit my future progress to. I fell over. I didn't win, I didn't get a medal, I didn't even finish the race. But I tried. I got back up. And what's more, I will try again.

Young humans are magic. They're fresh out the box equipped with the wonder of childhood and the knowledge that adults forget. It didn't matter to those kids that I went arse over head. All they saw was a human being giving it her best with a smile on her face and some really cool grazes to boast, and that was enough for them to feel something. Enough for them to want me to come and scribble on a piece of paper, so that every time they looked at it they are reminded, that when you fall, you get right back up.

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It matters that you don't just give up. It matters that you get up. It matters that you try.

LM