World Athletics Relays 2021 | Silesia, Poland
A week ago, I was in Poland, standing on the line for what might be the most high-pressure race of my life. This year, the World Relays was an Olympic qualifier event. The first top 8 teams (who hadn’t already qualified at World Championships in 2019) got a secure spot into the Tokyo Olympics.
Needless to say, the Ghana women’s relay didn’t make it. That day was a mixture of emotions. Anxiety, nervousness, defeat, disappointment, pride, and excitement; just to name a few. Our men were able to grab a coveted finals spot and snatch their Olympic qualifier. While weren’t been able to do the same, it was still such a rush to see them give it their all as well and succeed.
The morning after the race, in an almost serendipitous sort of timing, I happened to read Seth Godin’s blog post, “When It Doesn't Work Out”. It gives a brief look at the aftermath of failure. Maybe we learn from failure. Maybe we reevaluate and discover the “hope” we had was misplaced and what we thought was possible was actually impossible from the start. But what stood out were the last few thoughts of his post:
“…Or perhaps there was luck involved, and this time, the luck wasn’t on our side (perhaps 20% of the applicants who are qualified get in to famous colleges, which means that kids who do their best still have just a 1 in 5 chance of admission).
If there was no acceptable solution, or there was more bad luck than we hoped, then there’s no room for shame or blame or recriminations. ”
I think the results of this relay fall into this category. In Yokohama two years ago, we had amazing luck. Zero relay practice, zero camps, early in the season with only a few races under our belt and going up against experienced teams who had been camping for weeks in preparation for the event. In that case, luck fell in our favor. Our time was nothing to write home about, but enough countries in our heat either didn’t finish or were disqualified to push us straight into finals.
This time luck wasn’t on our side. There were too many new variables on our end (new additions to the team and new relay order introduced). Not to mention, most other countries had again spent weeks camping and training together leading up to this. Looking back, there was really no helping where we finished.
“All we can do is honor the situation and work to find the next thing, another opportunity to contribute or grow.”
Looking at our results as a whole, I’m proud of what the team was able to come together and do. Personally, I wondered if we would even get the baton all the way around the track.
Standing on that line, I was probably the most nervous I’ve been before a race since my freshman year in college. Funnily enough, that was also the last time I ran the first leg on the relay.
“I need to give us a good start.”
“Have a good hold of the baton.”
“Make sure to stay on the inside of the lane.”
“Watch the mark and make sure she takes it.”
Silesia reminded me that it’s ok to be scared. It’s ok to be nervous. As long as you can still leave it all on the track when the gun goes off, none of that matters. At the end of the day, I walked away knowing we did everything we could, and so the pride outshines the disappointment.
My season continues with my individual events. I’m still training and still working on getting my own Olympic qualifiers. I’ll be sure to update everyone as things come along. I have two months to qualify. Two months to give it everything I’ve got. Wish me luck.
All photos taken by Michał Laudy (@fot.mlaud)
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