Once you reach your peak you should ‘tell the world’ about your goals. This is definitely one of the things that has contributed to my success If you have a dream and share it with others, it puts pressure on you to try and achieve. It also makes that dream more real. While dreams remain in your head, they may never progress; but vocalising them brings them alive and moves them forward. Just writing the dreams down doesn’t do the job. You have to vocalise. It is about making things happen.
Before the Games at Athens I spent six months doing interviews with journalists, and everyone one of them asked me what medals I was going to win. The scenario I came up with was two golds, one silver and a bronze. My own personal goal was a little higher, but what I told the journalists was what I thought I could realistically achieve. And from the moment I told the first journalist that this was what I wanted to do, the motivation to train was there for every session that I did.
I often get asked for advice by young athletes, and I’m happy to try to answer questions. But some of the training sessions that I do are not appropriate for someone who is just developing in the sport. And few problems in sport, such as how to acquire the technique for pushing a chair, have a ten-minute quick-fix solution. Yes, in ten minutes I can show someone what they should be aiming for, but to perfect that technique the athlete will have to do it again and again in training to embed it into their brain. It may seem tempting to blame equipment and try to solve difficulties with a new chair, or a new pair of gloves, but the solving of most athletes’ problems only comes from learning a good technique, and then training hard.
Over the years I have seen many naturally talented athletes who possessed the potential to go far, but what has stopped them from achieving this potential was their inability to learn, or train hard.
Gary Player is reputed to have said, ‘the harder I train the luckier I become’. Practice can indeed make perfect. A reality of life is that some people are more naturally talented than others. Some people make everything they do look easy. Some people are natural risk-takers, while others are reluctant to try anything new. We can change some of the ways in which we behave, but we can’t completely change our personality.
An American athlete, Jim Knaub, who had eight Boston Wheelchair Marathon victories behind him, once said, ‘It isn’t always the fastest person who wins, it is the person who slows down the least’.
When I was growing up, I wasn’t the most talented, but I was keen. I knew many very talented young boys and girls in school who were competing at a good level. In fact they had a great deal more natural talent than me. But at the highest level in any walk of life, natural talent is not enough. Training made the difference to what I was able to do. When natural talent runs out, what else do you have to fall back on? You need the ability to push yourself as hard as you can, and you need to be able to pick yourself up from disasters. You get the confidence to do this from working to the highest level that you can.
Sport and life are full of ups and downs. There is rarely an easy path open to anyone. Even for those who are seen to be the most successful, there are usually things thrown in their path which would test anyone’s resolve.
For me, a big part of my life has been about dealing with what I have got, good or bad, and then trying to move on, to get to a point where I can reach my goals.
I would love to say that there is a solution out there for every problem. There probably isn’t, but I do believe that you can work through to get on the path to your end goal if you are committed to the task and work hard.
I have been very fortunate to have had a great time being an athlete. I have had the opportunity to represent my country, work with some amazing coaches, and also achieve many of my goals. But once my sporting life is over then there will always be other goals that replace my desire to break world records and win gold medals.
The life of an athlete is short. You spend more of your life not competing than competing. I have been really lucky, not to have picked up any major injuries, and only had brief periods where I wasn’t able to train or compete. But one thing I do know is that the rest of my life will be filled with other challenges that will become equally important to me, and that they will replace what I feel for wheelchair racing.
Working with up-and-coming athletes is a great deal of fun, and if I can help the athletes that I coach to reach their maximum potential (whether this is representing their country, or winning medals, or just them being the best they can), then I will be happy. I have one thing when coaching that I hold dear. I coach athletes whom I like as people. To really want to help them, to sometimes have to be really tough on them, to pick them up when they are down, it is important for me to have that basic level of trust and respect for them as individuals. I hope that I will never coach an athlete who I don’t like first and foremost.
Throughout my athletics career I have enjoyed working with and in the media, presenting TV and radio programmes, commentating on sports events and also writing many articles for a wide variety of journals, magazines and newspapers. Right now that work looks set to continue and develop and that is a really exciting challenge ahead for me.
When I know that the time is right to stop, then I will not have any regrets about ending my athletics career. There may have been a couple of races that I could have done differently, but actually I have come to terms with the fact that winning 11 gold Paralympic medals is OK – it was always something that I wanted to do, and I have done it. At Paralympic level I don’t think that I could have done any more. My sister summed it up for me in really simple terms. She told me that I only have to prove things to myself. The rest doesn’t matter. I have proved to myself that I am a good athlete, and I have competed well.
I have always known that one day I would wake up and just wouldn’t want to do wheelchair racing at international level any more. It wouldn’t be a slow, protracted decision – it would be quite immediate. I knew after Athens that I wouldn’t compete in Beijing (I don’t think a lot of people believed me when I said this in just about every interview I have done). When you have been around as long as I have, then many people just presume that you will keep going forever. But Athens wasn’t quite the time to stop. There were a couple more things that I wanted to do, and I want to finish my international career in an event that is held on British soil.
I will always want to be fit and healthy. I don’t think that I will ever stop training in my chair or on my bike, but I don’t always want to be an athlete.
There is one thing that I know. As one door closes another one opens, and there are plenty of challenges and goals that I still have in my life that will keep me Aiming High.
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