The men’s 4x100m relay, was a particularly important event for me. Why? Well, I had narrowly missed out on selection for the men’s 4x200m at the World Championships in Poland, and to make matters worse, a torn hip flexor had kept me out of the men’s 4x100m at the European Championships in Italy. Both of those teams went on to win gold. So, you can imagine my determination this time around. I was not going to miss the team again. But, of course, nothing was guaranteed.
Selection for the relay team is primarily based on UK rankings, which meant I needed to run a standout qualifying time during the season. Simple, right? Well, not quite. Every time I ran a 100m race, the conditions were, let’s say, less than ideal: wind, rain, cold, you name it, Mother Nature threw it at me. It was incredibly tight, with about eight GB athletes all in with a chance for the relay spots. Thankfully, this time, I made it, and I was selected alongside three incredible athletes: Ronnie Hunter, Steve Beak, and Brian Steene.
The day before the race, we headed to the track for some baton handover drills. In the 4x100m, exchanges are everything. You can have the fastest sprinters in the world, but if the baton doesn’t get around cleanly, you’re done. So, we practiced our passes over and over, making sure they were slick. We also decided on the running order: Ronnie, with his explosive start, would take the first leg. Steve, a superb 200m runner, was on the second leg with his blistering speed. I was given the third leg, which suited me fine since I feel confident running bends. Finally, Brian, a 100m specialist, would bring it home on the anchor leg.
Race day arrived, and we were as ready as we’d ever be. The atmosphere was electric, as it always is, but this time it felt different. The usual nerves before an individual race were magnified as being part of a team carries a whole new kind of pressure. You’re not just running for yourself; you’re running for everyone who’s counting on you. The call room buzzed with quiet tension, and as we were led out onto the track, anticipation turned into a full-blown adrenaline rush.
The gun went off. Bloody hell, here we go! Ronnie shot out of the blocks like a man possessed, launching us into the race with the kind of power you can only hope for. His handover to Steve was flawless, just as we’d practiced. I could see Steve hammering down the back straight towards me, absolutely flying, with baton in hand.
Then it was my turn. Steve’s handover was clean, I remember the feeling of relief, and I set off around the bend, giving it everything I had. I could feel the competition right there with me: Germany, the USA, Spain. All of us in with a chance. There was no time to think, just pure, raw effort. The curve came and went in a blur, and all I could focus on was getting the baton into Brian’s hands. Another wave of relief as the handover was clean. Now it was down to Brian to bring it home.
As Brian tore down the final stretch, it was anyone’s race. It was impossibly close between us, Germany, Spain, and the USA. In the last few meters, Germany’s anchor found just that tiny bit extra, pulling ahead to snatch the gold. But Brian wasn’t far behind, crossing the line to secure silver for us. The USA took bronze, just ahead of Spain.
We were absolutely thrilled. Sure, gold would’ve been the dream, but silver at a world championship? Not too shabby! We went up against the best in the world and showed we belonged right there with them. Standing on the podium together, silver medals around our necks, was an unforgettable and emotional moment.
Next time, though? Next time, we’ll be going for gold.
Stuart Lynn - Masters Athlete 