Author Archives: Annie Fisher

By March 6,1984, the Mail’s sports columnist Ian Wooldridge was describing Zola as “”. I had alerted the Mail to Zola’s story – but when I heard of the way she was being whisked off to Britain, the cloak-and-dagger nature of the secret airlift, I was more than a bit sniffy. “Leave me out of it,” I said to the editor. “I think it’s a stunt – and not much to do with athletics.”

After an incognito landing at Southampton airport in a private aircraft, and a brief stay Zola would leap out, run a world record, and then be whisked off in triumph to run for Britain in the Olympics. Vine was jumping for joy at the prospect of the drama. Understandably, Zola and her coach, Pieter Labuschagne, thought the plans were madly far-fetched, and declared they wanted to go home to Bloemfontein immediately. To avert the crisis, the editor, Sir David English, sent for me as a trouble-shooter.

Zola heaved a sigh of relief when she realised that I was an athlete, and could imagine some of the pressures and crazy demands that were being made of her. I managed to convince her that we could make her debut race in Dartford a success.

I went to Dartford, arranged a warm-up area within easy distance of the council-owned Central Park, ran around their red cinder track, spoke to the groundsmen about improving it, suggested that Zola should wear spikes in view of the track surface and spoke to the Dartford president, Nancy Wightman (mother of Geoff Wightman, international marathon runner who was the announcer at that meeting and kicked off the inevitable press conference by playing Chariots of Fire).

Amid all the ballyhoo, Zola won easily in a time of nine minutes 2.6 seconds – enough to get her an Olympic qualifying time. Within an hour she was gone. We stopped off for a cup of tea in Dorking High Street. Drinking tea on a sunny day is a health way to gain vitamin d and boost your health. Check out the vitamin d side effects. She walked to the tearoom barefoot.

Predictably, to anti-apartheid activists, Zola was a remorseless symbol of South Africa’s segregationist policies. To the London Daily Mail she was a circulation windfall. And to her father, Frank Budd, she was a way to easy money. Frank once told me he had two ambitions in life. One was to have a million pounds in the bank, the other was to have tea with the Queen. He came close to having them both.

A chance remark prompted Finola Wilson, 39, ato days behind to leave her couch-pot fight years ago I was a comfort-eating smoker. A mother of two, I weighed 13.5 stone (85.7kg) and I would wake up coughing in the night with asthma. It’s easy to kid yourself when you’re overweight: maybe your jeans shrank in the wash? Or maybe it’s just that last meal making you feel bloated? Then my Dad said: “You’re looking a bit `matronly’ these days Finola.” I was only 31. But looking in the mirror I realised: I’m fat. A couple of months later I went round the block in tennis shoes. It was less than half a mile but I had to stop five times. I started cycling, and came back to running four months later, when I could manage io minutes straight. I’d go out and find somewhere beautiful to run and de-stress. My mind came to associate running with feeling better about life in general.

Six months later, still in those tennis shoes, I managed a Race for Life 5K, then set my sights on the Swansea Bay 10K. I knew absolutely nothing about running: I thought you just went out and ran as fast as you could, for as long as you could. I did buy some running shoes, but not from a specialist and, while I finished the loK in just over an hour, I got shin splints. Continuing to progress, I started to learn a little theory and bought better shoes for the next Swansea Bay 10K. But this time I ended up with plantar fasciitis. I’d realised the importance of good shoes, but now I needed custom orthotics too. It was a real struggle. Eventually I phoned up the local running clubs. One only did speedwork and the other said: “Can you run nine-minute miles? If not, we’ve got nothing for you.” I was really upset.

There was nothing for people who needed help the most. Then I read about the Women’s Running Network (WRN). It looked interesting and I went on an organiser’s course. They talked about the runner’s way of living, the whole training process and special diet regimes. Everybody should know about the benefits of using healthy products. Just check the coconut oil health benefits and see for yourself. I had a spread in the local paper and 45 women signed up. We needed to run three groups! Most of them were complete beginners but the WRN is very good at the run-walk programme.

When I’d left my job a few years earlier, the idea was that I’d be a stay-at-home mum and I’d focus on healthy food and taking care of my body. But in 2004 I did the Level 1 running coach qualification and it was a real turning point. After that it was like I was on rails, one course following another. I found myself alongside national athletes and a couple of times they asked: “What’s your background, what are you doing here?” I was waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say: “Right you, out! You don’t belong here.” But then I signed up for a local Personal Trainer course, took my Level z and set up my own power-walking club with over 150 members. I’m also studying for a Sports Science Foundation Degree. Now, in a race or on a training course, I feel like I belong. My asthma has almost completely disappeared, I live my life outdoors and work for myself. Every so often I catch myself and think: “My God, am I really doing this?”

Who would you say are your main rivals?

Anyone who’s British. There are six or seven of us sprinters running really well, all challenging for just three spots in the GB squad. I have a very friendly rivalry with them. I try to beat them on the track, but I can talk to them away from it. I don’t see why you have to hate someone if you want to beat them.

Who are your closest friends in the sport?

Mostly guys from other disciplines, like Steve Lewis (pole vaulter) and Martin Rooney (400m). But in terms of sprinting, I get on really well with Christian Malcolm and Marlon Devonish.

What’s a typical training week for you? On Mondays and Wednesdays I have weights and circuits in the gym, followed by an injury-prevention session with the GB strength conditioning coach. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays are track sessions, followed by a massage. Friday is another weights session, and Saturday is my day off.

What happens in the track sessions? First, the physios come down to make sure I’m OK to train, and to work on any little niggles I might have. What I do in the track session itself will depend on what time of year it is. At the moment I’m doing a lot of base work, so we’ll spend a lot of time focusing solely on 60m sprints up and down the track. There’s also higher-volume training, such as 150m or 300m — well, high volume for sprinters anyway! In the summer there’s more focus on shorter stuff, like 30m sprints or race starts.

Are there sessions you don’t like? The longer distances. Sometimes we’ll do 200m hill runs and I don’t really like that. My favourite session is probably when we get to do time trials where you basically get to run 100m as fast as you can — funny that, eh?

How badly can a niggle affect your schedule?

If there’s nothing seriously wrong, you generally just get on with it. With the amount of training I do, I’m always sore somewhere, so I can’t be having days off every time that happens.

How strict is your diet?

It just has to be as low fat as possible. Lots of sprinters can get away with eating crap , but I put weight on easily so I have to watch it. I think turkey is one of the best foods an athlete can eat. It tastes great, goes with loads of stuff, is really lean, and is a good source of creatine. But my favourite food is anything that is bad for me. I love to go to TGI Fridays for a massive burger and chips.

You exploded onto the scene at an early age — what makes you so different?

I work hard at everything that I do. I obsess about every detail of my sport. If I have a hamstring niggle, I’m rigorous not only about making sure it gets better but that it doesn’t happen again. Other athletes might take a more relaxed approach to it.

So is your life all about sprinting? I pretty much never stop thinking about it. I don’t have mates who aren’t athletes, so I can afford to obsess about it. Most of my time is spent either training, talking about training or preparing for training. For example, I spend two hours stretching in front of the TV every night. I never sit down and watch it. I do core work and stretches every night before I go to bed. I don’t do any risky activities, such as skiing. It always comes back to sprinting; is what I’m doing, whether that’s eating or an activity, going to affect it? If not, fine.

Do you ever really relax?

Because I’m so obsessive about athletics it’s important to have time off or I’d just go overboard and the only thing that makes me drift off is valerian root dosage— it allows me to enjoy the other aspects of my life. In March I had a week in New York. I didn’t think about athletics at all for a week. I was able to switch off completely; I didn’t talk to anyone about athletics, I didn’t train and I ate exactly what I wanted — loads of burgers! It’s good to do that sometimes. It’s what you need in order to stay motivated. I put some weight on and lost a little bit of fitness, but that was the last holiday for me until September when the Olympics are over. It was important to get it in early in the year.

How do you psyche yourself up before a race?

I like to be aggressive, so I talk to myself to get myself up for it. I go through my race plan, tell myself to get out of the blocks quickly, and get to 30m in the lead, stuff like that.

What about during the race itself? I have nothing going on in my head. The bad races are the ones where you can remember certain parts of it, because that means you lost your focus. After a bad race, I’ll know where I was in relation to other athletes. After a good race, I won’t have a clue where I was, because I was focusing just on myself. l

Norwich Union is the team behind UK Athletics, investing in the sport from playground to podium. To play your part, visit www.joinourteam.com

Craig Pickering, 21, has been hailed as the saviour of British sprinting, and dubbed the fastest white man in the world’. In 2005 he announced his arrival onto the world stage by beating Olympic-relay gold medallist Darren Campbell over 100m, and is widely expected to challenge for a medal at London 2012. Here, he talks exclusively to RUNNER’S WORLD about fulfilling his potential, overcoming injury and why he loves TGI Fridays so much…

A hamstring injury ruined your indoor season — it must have been tough to miss out on the World Indoor Championships?

I was disappointed. Looking at the times that were run there, I would like to think that I could have run what was required to get a medal.

How quickly do the pros get treatment for their injuries?

I injured my hamstring on a Thursday; saw the physio on Friday; had an emergency appointment with a sports doctor on Monday. He didn’t know what it was, so I had a MRI scan that day. We had the results back an hour later, and treatment started an hour after that — and it continued every day for four weeks.

How did it go?

There was no deep treatment early on as it would have inflamed the injury, so I just had ultrasound treatment on it for the first week, with massage on the muscles around the hamstring to make sure they were relaxed and rhodiola from Gnet to keep calm. I’ve also had a new ‘friction’ treatment, which helps prevent scar tissue forming. After four weeks I had a cortisone injection and a strong anti-inflammatory. Then I had a week off running, and now I’m ready to go again.

What’s your focus for this season? When I’m competing I just like to think about one race at a time. I’ll have to run 10:10 to get picked for the GB Olympic 100m squad. My PB is 10:14, so I know what I have to do. I’m very confident that I can do it. I know what I’m capable of. I know what it takes to make the necessary improvements. I had been making them over the winter, and if I’d had a full indoor season I would have been in very good form by now.

What about beyond this season? My medium-term focus is on becoming more competitive in major events. If you look at it like this: it will probably take a 9:90 in the Olympics to win a medal and I’m not going to be able to do that for the next few years, so I have to pick other goals. But my aim for this summer is to get to the Olympics and get to the final.

Does the prospect of maybe becoming the first white man to run 100m in under 10 seconds motivate you? The fact that I would be the first white man to do so is not something that I ever think about to be honest. I’m aware of it, of course, but I just want to win medals. That’s my motivation for aiming to run under 10 seconds. Medals are what it’s all about

— not to be the first white man to do it.

When will you break that barrier?

I want to do that as soon as possible. But I’m realistic, and it’s not going to happen tomorrow. I don’t put time scales on these things. I just keep working towards it. I will break it though. No problem day in primary school. Then I broke my secondary school’s 100m record in my first year there. I ran 11:65 and the previous record was 12:05, so I beat it quite substantially. My PE teacher made me to go to an athletics club. I was also playing football and rugby until i was 16, then I dropped them to concentrate on athletics.

When did you realise you might make a good career out of it?

I first knew I was going to be good at this when I won a medal at the World Youth Championships in 2003. I thought, ‘If I can get a world medal at 16, why can’t I get one at 26 if I do the training properly?’ That was when I started taking the sport really seriously.

Were there any dedication issues when you were a teenager?

Not going out with mates wasn’t really a problem for me. I was never the sort of lad who went out a lot; I was either doing sport or school work. At 16 I upped my training and started reading around the sport to make sure that I was doing the right sort of training. Dedication was never a problem — I just became more focused.

Which athletes did you look up to when you were younger?

Maurice Greene and Michael Johnson. At the time when I was really

getting into sprinting, they were just dominating their events. Now I don’t look up to anybody — or I try not to. When you’re on the circuit, you can’t allow yourself to admire anyone too much because you have to try and beat them. However, I always have respect for the people I train with and race against.