August 4, 2015, Lyon. Parilly-stadion. DECATHLON DAY 1.
I cannot tell how many times I dreamt and imagined the start of my first discipline in the decathlon at the World Championships for Masters... And as always, what you dream is not what you get... luckily this time...
>>> 100m sprint
I am ready. Yesterday I had a whole day's rest in the chill of the airconditioned room of our hotel. I slept half the day, and so I was able to get up very early this morning. I had a shower and an extensive breakfast. I even found time for a chat with some German and Chinese athletes in the lounge. A few hours later I was doing my warm-up at the tracks. Easy going, relaxed, but now - in the starting blocks for the 100 meters sprint - extremely focused and inside my bubble. Waiting to go and eager to jump. My spikes cling to the blocks, and...
The gun goes off, instantly followed by a second shot... A false start on my far right; the Norwegian started way too soon and also the Frenchman, right next to me, followed. They're both presented a yellow card. The stress level rises. I wander a while around my starting blocks and - as last - I am ready for the second attempt. The Frenchman makes another detour and lets everybody wait. Hmmm.
'On your marks'. The silence in the stadion is overwhelming and there's just a buzz coming from a plane far overhead. 'Set', followed by the shot. I leave the blocks hard and only notice the Norwegian in the corner of my eyesight, but also Cherif, the Frenchman presses for it... I can relax and accelerate. Damn! This is going to work. I keep it strong and fierce, and finish first... A PR! A PR! Never expected that! I am shouting loud! To my amazement my teammate Rachel Hanssens (86 years old and multiple Worldchampion) and her friend Anita are heading to greet me. They are at a spot on the tracks where no public should be. Who cares. We kiss and embrace. So wholehearted. A photographer is circling around us. 'But you foolish boy', Rachel exclaims, 'what a performance!' Collegue athletes come and shake my hand... My thumb's up towards the tribune, because somewhere over there are my girl Katrien and son Sten. What a nice decathlon start! Everything just comes together, the puzzle pieces of three years training for this goal just fit. I am so happy; ecstatic. I go back to the call room, relax a bit and eat some biscuits. I take my stuff and head of for the second event.
>>> long jump
Next on the agenda is the long jump. I'm a bit shaky because I've trained very little for this discipline. A high jump injury at the right patella tendon gave me a lot of trouble since February. The four training sessions I had with trainer Ilse Van Nerom since then just showed me the way in theory. But today nothing hurts and I want to shake off all that past burden. The sand pit is extremely hard. Such a coarse sand! I start nagging like a baby... Come on, get yourself together! My warming up jumps are all right; I have to ajust my run and start three feet more backwards than usual. Probably a combination of good shape, absence of pain and the adrenaline of the moment. My run up is faster and more determined than ever. First jump in competition... the spectators are clapping hands to encourage. That gives a boost! I concentrate and start my jump. Come on Dieter don't forget your technique. I feel myself flying and really going far... oh no! The red flag goes up! A faul jump. I surpassed my take off point with more than a foot. No worries! Just go back a bit more for your next effort. No worries, it's going to be just fine. I get really relaxed for my second jump... the crowd is really yelling now... I lose my equilibrium when I hit the sand and fall backwards. A loud disappointed 'oooh' comes from the crowd. 4m73... and I lost a possible full meter due to my fall. Well, I have a valid effort. That's something. And still a third effort to go. But suddenly the magic is gone... I am only half concentrated and just switch to automatic. Distracted a hurry to get my third jump over with. A jump, look at the results shown at the stadion's screens... 5m10. I am happy. It could have been worse. Time for some decent fod and fluids. A good chat with Katrien brings back the moral and focus. The third event, the terrible shot put is next! But first a small hour's rest in my large camping chair. It's a really nice chair which can fold back and gives me the opportunity to get my feet up comfortably. I keep getting comments for it, but what really catches every athlete's eye is the fact that... it has a beaker holder! Laying back, glimpsing from underneath my cap, with a drink in my beaker holder; it's not easy to beat that attitude! We're just having fun about the beaker holder and other small talk. Typically decathlon athletes in between disciplines.
>>> shot-put
The sun is now really heating up the Parilly stadion. Luckily the shot put is outside the track and there are some shady trees nearby. And a bench... It is the first time that I see those golden somewhat smaller shots. I try one during warm up and it feels really good. I'll keep using it during the competition and I consistently throw good for my level. 8m22, 8m26 and 8m38. Yet a lot to improve indeed. But no surprises today, I'll just have to train harder on this discipline. Luckily my trainer Floris Van Coppenolle is a patient man :-)
Three months ago I even couldn't use the glide technique because of pain in the knee... today those worries are over. And I appear not to be the only one struggling. Andre, the Dutch man, is clearly getting frustrated, and he's not the only one. Whatever. With a smile on my face I go searching the high jump ground. It is steaming hot by now. I do very few warming up jumps. I'm really worried to stress my right knee to much. We'll see...
>>> high jump
First surprise: twelve athletes start at my pitiful starting height of 1m29. It seems that I am not the only one struggling with high jump. I easily clear that height and secure myself of the 331 points that go with it. No pain yet, so I decide to pass on the next height and immediately go for 1m35. A few look surprised and wonder why I compete at these low heights. The honest answer is that I al not that good at it, and that I am afraid of hurting myself. They start encouraging me, it's heart warming. 1m35... no problem. To my surprise some are already in trouble. They need second and third attempts, which gives me more time to rest. 1m41... I fail. A small hesitation and a hit the bar. Keep working Dieter, keep working in that run up. I hear the voice of my coach Ilse as if it were a mantra inside my head. It's my turn again. The heat is really harsh now, some 37 degrees in the shadow. Some athletes seek shade underneath the tin cover of the high jump mat. Not such a great idea I guess, it feels like an oven. I get ready for my second attempt... Nice run up and jump! Yes! This is good. 1m44 is next and again my second attempt is a good one. I hesitate to continue because I feel that I lack the vigour and skills. After three attempts I have to leave. It's a pity that I lose so many points in high jump. Justin wins with a 1m77. He gets 309 points more than me, and that's a world of difference.
>>> 400m sprint
I get over an hour and a half rest for the closing 400m sprint of the day. I have a big smile on my face because I still feel strong and notice that a lot of competitors have a hard time. I just smell their fear for the 400 and the paralysing lactic acid one gets in the last one hundred. I'm looking forward to it. Just bring it on, I'm curious if I'll be able to get all my energy out of my body. Dose it right and get under 57 seconds. The last 400m that I ran in Belgium was a bit uncontrolled. The first half I did in 26"00, the second in 31"00. I plan to start more controlled now by following the others and really start accelerating after the 200m mark. What a wise battle plan I thought, until I saw the series and lanes... I get the second last serie and the outside lane eight! No one as a reference point in front of me! That makes me a bit more nervous. I have had several sprints in the outside lane before, and even won some... but I always feel more stressed being hunted by seven others.
On your marks. Five seconds pass. There's some technical malfunction. We have a restart. Good. That's good. I am really fired up now. On your marks. Set. The shot makes me jump out of the starting blocks. Jesus! There's Maghlout already breathing down my neck. Keep it easy Dieter, not to fast. I have some trouble with the first bend. I'm used to a more curved one and have to be extra careful not to leave my lane. Near the 200m mark I get confused because the LED screen shows the clock going from 22 to 23 seconds. To fast? In retrospective normal since the screen was placed at the mark for the inner lane. I postpone my acceleration to the 150m mark. Maghlout really gets closer now. I accelerate and I hear him struggle. I've got one meter in the last stretch. I'm slowly deteriorating and he's getting ahead. We both break down but Maghlout is clearly the stronger one. The rest cannot follow. I finish in 57"13 and that's a satisfying fourth place overall. We shake hands and immediatelly head for our hotels. Most of the competitors leave the stadion with a lot of worries on their mind. Injuries, fatigue and dehydration, on top of one or more disappointing results make the decathlon ever so hard. I know I am one of the lucky ones; I am on top of my game. Thirteenth place after day one, with one PR and the total of 3.032 points makes me jump with joy... The Belgian national record is 6.095 points... I know this is not feasible here in Lyon, but it makes me dream for possible future events.
Together with my family I have my dinner in a Kentucky Fried Chicken... Two buckets chicken wings, a salad and liters of recupation and magnesium drinks later, I finally get my well-deserved shower. Half an hour later I sleep…
August 5, 2015, Lyon. Parilly-stadion. DECATHLON DAY 2.
>>> 110m hurdles
It was a hard night's sleep. I frequently woke up and every time I drank at least half a liter... Apparently a very good idea, because for the first time ever, I have no headache following a pentathlon. I treat myself on a large and luxureous breakfast... I feel good; dead tired, but still good... We leave early for the stadion. In this way I can cope best with my nerves. Talking to other athletes, some chit chat, makes me calmer and gets me focussed.
Oh God. I feel so insecure! Left leg in front? Right leg in front? I check. If only I had one of the trainers of my team ASVO here... I hear them talking to me in my head. A cool 'come on hold on' from Tim Van Coster, a 'use both legs in the starting blocks' from Audrey Baguet, a 'please run on the front of your feet' from Floris Van Coppenolle, 'keep accelerating' from Jennyfer Plasschaert, 'go into the hurdle Dieter' from Ilse Van Nerom, 'stretch that hind leg' from Elie Van Vlierberghe, and 'you cannot even run decently! ;-)' from fondly remembered Richard Van Vlierberghe.
I have a test start. Good... this was fast. Come on! Be eager! Wake up! I don't succeed in getting any adrenaline rush, and as a consequence I have my famous snail start again. But I have hope... Christian Hoser - the Australian champion - is running right in front of me. He's hitting several hurdles and I know that each time that happens I gain a tenth of a second... I try and I try, but unfortunately in such a cramped way that I just don't achieve my flow and necessary velocity. I finish in 18"62... Not good, not good at all. I hoped for a 17 seconds something. That's a first setback... I lose at least 60 points...
>>> disc throw
The wind really starts to blow now, and in combination with the burning sun, my energy level starts melting like snow. I get distracted very easily. I get irritated by the judges who don't allow us to decently warm-up. I get irritated because Katrien does not take the right pictures. I get irritated because the concrete of the ring is a bit coars. I am enoyed with myself that I am not ready to throw hard...
The first three competitors throw the disc out on the right side. I am fourth and do exactly the same. Okay... That's enough! I take to my seat and turn to myself... At that moment I'm just a grumpy old man, trying to get a hold on himself... full of unnecessary self-pittyness... Later I have learned that several collegues were feeling the same at that time; Lionel Dembourg was the worst: throwing three times a faul, getting zero points...
My second throw is uncontrolled but still an ok 25m28. I am getting back to my senses. My third throw is much to eager, not relaxed. 25m37 is better, but it feels like I've missed an opportunity. Immediately after this throw I hear that the pole vault will be postponed for at least three hours. I just hate that! There goes my game plan... I try to sleep on a thin matras on the sides of the tracks... I lack food, I lack drinks, I am not feeling good. I try to get my spirits high by talking to Katrien and Sten; it certainly helps, but I feel myself losing touch with the competition. Everything becomes a bit of a haze!
>>> pole vault
I am in the last competition group and the organisation is really failing for us. Normally the competition should end at 18h00, but it is 17h30 now and we have still three disciplines to go! On top of that the glue on my poles starts to melt, so I cover them with clothing in attempt to save the day. More important: I found my spirits back! Somehow the technical aspects of pole vault bring me some calm. The warming up is short but ok. I decide to start at 2m50, and in that way to warm up during the competition. Wise call! Meanwhile I help Lee Faulkner with his pole problem. We decide to share mine, because his lended pole is simply dangerous for him... he cannot clear any warm-up height, and his attempts even look hazardous.
A clear blue sky, silence and focus. I just love pole vault! Although I probably make a hundred technical mistakes, I just enjoy... I very easily clear 2m50, but at 2m70 I get a severe warning. If I am sloppy in my run-up and pole movements, I will fail. The whole installation shakes under my violence and I fall totally on the right, anxiously clinging to the pole. I don't know what went wrong... Seeing some pictures of myself later on the day during that jump, the real question should be: 'What did I not do wrong!?'
Anyway from then on I clear every height till 3m10 at the first attempt. At 3m20 I start hesitating, I feel the pole bending enormously and I forget to stretch my body to inverted vertical. Stupid. I even try to come a good foot closer because my fellowship tells me I lack penetration... Stupid; I just lack technique at even step 2 of the 5 steps pole vault requires. A lot of improvement still to be made. I get 496 points, but I am pretty sure I could gain a hundred more whenever I get the pole vault rules of thumb right... It's work in progress and probably a headache for my trainer Elie Van Vlierberghe.
>>> javelin
My absolute favorite discipline is javelin...
Since I was a six year old boy scout I threw further. I threw my stones further, over the river, not in it. I threw my snowballs further, fast and hard in your face. In a good day I threw the steal tent pole straight over the garden, further, over the fence, into the maidow… terrifying the poor goats which were grazing over there… Even today, a javelin instantly brings back that boy scout’s smile on my face… I brought my own javelin with me; it’s a great one. It’s owned by my club ASVO Oudenaarde, but I treasure it as if it were pure gold… And right now! It’s gone missing! I went searching for it at the technical support, and they can’t find it. The man responsible for it stares at my receipt and is clearly annoyed. Half an hour later I find the javelin back myself… It was standing amidst a bunch of others and it has clearly been used by others in the competition today. I just don’t like this. I clean it up; it is full of chalk dust at the handle, and it feels sticky and muddy. Shame!
I try to get a hold of myself and get in a warm-up routine. Darkness is falling, and really I cannot see the javelin fly or land… Achiel, the Belgian supervising referee comes to have a talk with us all. It is late, dark and everybody is fatigued. Safety first, please take it seriously. We all agree and understand… several of these athletes throw close to 100 km per hour… fierce and lethal. The competition begins and unfortunately also the loud, really loud music. The DJ is unaware of the fact that competition is still going on… how could he? There are no lights, visability 25 meters…
In these unseen circumstances I have my first attempt. I hit the javelin way to high and feel no speed is transferred. The referees measure 36m54… Come on, in theory I could do 10m further… further… I try to get that boy’s smile back on my face… further… It goes from chaos to real chaos… One of the judges starts dancing, shaking here huge behind, she’s having fun. Loud music, shimmering atmosphere, and a big lady dancing at the throwing line for javelin. I just wait to go ahead with my second throw. It takes for ages till somebody tells her to stop. She comes towards me to apologize. Ok. I just throw with everything I have, pittyfull and unconcentrated… 38m38. Bummer. And then – out of nowhere – Achiel the Belgian supervisor turns up again to ask if we would like to start our 1500m closing event immediately after javelin. He stirs me up. Come on fellow Belgian patriot show us what you got! Come on! It gives me a bit of a rush, and I throw 39m59. I am happy with that; I have to.
>>> 1500m
We are getting ready to run the distance. We all feel very sorry for ourselves. Justin could possibly still break the Australian record, but everyone else is several hundred points behind the personal best performances. Let’s get it over with is the mutual feeling. And then, suddenly, every single light goes out! No electricity. Besides some lights at the 100m finish line there is totally a pitch black darkness at the track… Let’s wait a 15 minutes and then the lights can be restarted?
No. Just a plain no! It is 10 p.m. ... Let's start. Ready. Set. Go.
I try to follow the front runners, but after 300m they have already taken 10 meters. I decide to let them go and focus on 23 seconds for every 100m. In that way I can still try to achieve a 5'20". That is if I can have a last good 400m sprint. I should be able to do that. Only one lap later, half way the race, I cannot maintian this pace. I am running totally alone, a total collapse! One round away from the finish I start sprinting... It will become my slowest sprint ever! 1'25" for the last 400m... Not even below the 6 minutes mark: 6'01"07. What a disappointment! I lose at least 200 points.
I feel dead tired. And what a bad result... I feel bad. And just a second later, I feel all that joy. We've made it! We all succeeded! We shake hands and embrace; we have done this together. Every single one of this group is a champion, strong and proud! We live the moment and do an extra lap in the stadion. The few people left share in our utmost joy. Some collegues are so tired they can't speak anymore. Tears of joy, pictures taken and loud laughter. Later I am told that my 5.560 points is the third best Belgian result all time. I became number 11 on an athletic World Championship... and for the record: for the number 10 - Dirk Maximowitz - finished his 76th decathlon. For me it was only my second decathlon.
>>> the mantis
I've just finishes the decathlon and together with Katrien and Sten I try to find my stuff, and start making our way back to the hotel. Suddenly the lights go on in the stadion, and in the overflow of light a mantis drops out of the sky right in front of me. I feel very fortunate, I pick up this little bug and set it free...
Up to today I have been wondering what happened there. A decathlon, a 47 year old guy and a mantis meet in Lyon... I am blessed.
Dieter Geenens. 2015.
