Setting my stall out early

I’d not known much about athletics at my first and middle school in a village outside Rugby, and gymnastics had been my first sport. But then a neighbour who was a PE teacher, noticing that I looked pretty nippy, suggested I went along to the local athletics club, where I discovered not just that I was good at running, but that I loved it, too. It was around that time that my parents took my brother and me for a week’s holiday to Devon. It was 1984 and my ten-year-old self was completely transfixed by TV coverage of the Los Angeles Olympics and especially the success of British competitors such as Daley Thompson, Sebastian Coe and Kathy Cook. Then and there I decided I, too, was going to win a medal. I even identified the 2000 Olympics in Sydney as when it would happen. I guess you could say I was goal-orientated from a very young age.

And keeping my eye on the ball

Athletics proved great for my confidence levels. Freakishly, I discovered I was good at every speed-based event I tried. And I enjoyed and even looked forward to the training sessions. No way was I a reluctant competitor, thinking, “Boo! Hiss! I wish I were off drinking cider with my mates.” Mixing with people from outside my own school environment gave me a new, very positive outlook, so I never thought I was making sacrifices or missing out. I was hugely appreciative of the talent I’d been given and wanted to take it all the way. Look at any of the other British women who’ve achieved Olympic success and you’ll find the same uncompromising approach. The only downside is that I find it almost impossible to get my head round why some other gifted young athletes don’t have that drive and focus, and just piss their chances up the wall.

Refusing to feel sorry for myself

I never seemed to go through all the teenage angst, not even the usual body image stuff that girls are susceptible to, and I put that completely down to sport. Nothing outside it mattered to me, and the discipline and routine required seemed to carry me through. From the age of 14 onwards, I concentrated on sprinting and, that year, was the fastest girl in the world. Sadly, though, I was very injury prone and only had one full year as an international 400m runner (the event for which Merry won her Olympic bronze in 2000). It was nobody’s fault. I was just unlucky. I didn’t moan and rarely got down about it. What would have been the point? I never doubted my own ability, so still don’t feel bitter that I didn’t get to run as fast as I should have done and over a longer period of time. Just box it up and move on.

And determining to make a difference

Goal-setting, constant self-evaluation, persistence… The things that help carry you forward in sport can be applied equally well in business and in life. No one’s interested in listening to someone else’s “Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve.” We’ve all just got to get on with it, making the most of the talent and the chances we’ve been given. I put my sports bag down and retired the very moment I first thought, “I don’t want to do this any more.” It wasn’t planned and I even surprised myself. But I also determined then and there that I wouldn’t let the knowledge and experience I’d gained go to waste, but would do all I could to mentor and help the kids coming up. Too many senior athletes come out of competition and just bugger off. Not me. I want to pass on my passion.

Katharine Merry offers mentoring advice on all aspects of sport at www.elitementor.com