I wish I could have written something immediately after my final to let everyone know exactly what I'm going through, but I am simply at a loss for what to say or where to begin.
So, instead of trying to create some allegory or inspirational message, I'll just share some thoughts on the last 18 months.
Most everyone knows by now that I've been through a lot transition over the past 18 months. I've gone professional, moved, changed coaches, gotten married, and switched my focus from the steeplechase to the 1500m. All of these decisions were made with considerable guidance from people I love and respect. I think the most important key to many of these decisions is that I surrounded myself with a very small support-group of people that are loyal to me and believe in the outstanding goals I'm trying to achieve.
My final year of college was such an incredible streak of records and championships. It was a magical time that will always define an era of my running career. It broke my heart when that momentum was disrupted by an injury during the following track season, my first year as a professional. But, determined to not allow the momentum to totally die, I cross trained like an animal and was diligent about rehab and therapy on all of my "weak links." I used this time to get into the clinic and the weight room and strengthen areas often neglected when mileage is the primary focus. A year later I was stronger and fitter once again and then during a visit to Boulder for the annual Bolder Boulder, I came down with the flu. We were visiting friends and I was in such denial that I went two days with a 102 degree fever before I finally went to a clinic. Even then, I didn't take antibiotics in hope that I could pull out of the illness in time to bounce back to race the Pre Classic the following weekend. Well, I did end up on antibiotics and the flu lasted two weeks forcing me to not only forfeit my trip to Eugene, but also to the Diamond League in New York as well.
It was at this point that I was ready to throw in the towel. I knew how competitive the 1500m was going to be at USAs and I had lost two entire weeks of training and was still battling through a nasty cough. It was the stability and encouragement of Juli, my coach, and Jason, my husband, who simply wouldn't allow me to drop my eyes or throw up my hands. Jason was hard on me in a very positive way, even going on runs with me to help me get out of the door when I felt terrible. Juli was a coaching genius, recognizing that I would want to try to make up for lost time and forcing me to be practical about each and every run and workout. My body was taxed and my mind was disillusioned.
At USAs I ran made it through the prelim and marched on to the most intimidating race I've ever run in my life. I felt compromised going into the final but absolutely ready to fight for every step. That 4:05 was one of the most difficult races I've ever run. I didn't focus on how hard it was for me afterword but it took me some serious time to recovery from that effort. I really believe that on that day, that was the fastest race I had in my legs. It was such a huge emotional victory though. My season had such a slow start and this was an important milestone along the way. It was important for me to remember that it's always worth making it to the starting line willing to fight because as I've said before, when you get your shoes on and out the door, your mind and body will often surprise you.
The month that followed included a crowded 1500m in Madrid and Monaco, an 800m in Padova (where I ran close to PR), and a 5k in Stockholm. Each and every race I just couldn't seem to catch a break. In Madrid there was a fall, Padova actually went well, Monaco had serious travel and logistical problems making it a very hectic week, and again, I got sick right before the 5k in Stockholm with an infection and was on antibiotics. It wrapped up to be a somewhat average stretch in Europe. However, I was actually gaining a lot of confidence. I was learning tactically from each experience and I was getting in some great training. There was an undercurrent of anticipation between our little group and we knew I was getting better even though my results weren't clearly indicating that to the racing world. Isn't that better though? It was like we knew something that nobody else knew. I was running workouts that I could never do before and bouncing back from each disappointment with new energy and will to fight.
I came back to Colorado for 17 days. I got right back to work not taking time to readjust to elevation or the weather. I did some long runs, workouts, thresholds, weights. I stuck to my routine, didn't change anything, and was getting stronger.
The first round in Daegu was terrifying. But, as always, when I got onto that track I felt such an amazing peace and was excited to get the show started. The prelim was a more intelligent race than my first and then the Final was a better executed version of my prelim. I think my prelim and final were incredibly similar races. Ironically, after the prelim, Hannah England and I were chatting about how it's a difficult decision during the race to either run outside and ready to pass or inside where it's shorter but risk not being able to "get out" if someone breaks away up front. We chatted about how in the prelim at the bell lap, you can see that I try to get out and I hesitate and stay inside for one more turn. Hannah makes the other decision and moved out. When it came to the final, I learned from what I experienced in the prelim and ran almost the same race except that I didn't hesitate with 400 to go. I stayed inside until the backstretch and then moved up from there. I had mental contact with the front group the entire race and if they weren't running away, I was going to take the shortest race inside. I haven't asked Hannah, but it's tempting to think she was thinking the same thing because her race execution was similar.
When I finished I think it's clear that I had no idea how to react.
So, I tell this outline of my most recent journey because it's the story of how I got to the top of the World's podium but also because I hope it provides hope to others. When things aren't going perfectly, you can still make the best of every opportunity. zJuli and I talked about how I was in the final and healthy; at that point, what more could I ask for? I certainly had some luck which I suppose could be said for most champions. You kind of have to have things swing your way in order to have the perfect outcome. But, most importantly, over the past 18 months, when the valleys seemed deep, I showed up to work hard and dream big and believe in my support group. When we did have indications that I was improving, I believed in it even though they weren't as public as winning a race.
Thanks to everyone that knows they are a part of this journey from Coach Getty to Juli Benson and everyone in between. You all taught me there has never been a secret to making Gold- just waking up, showing up, and working hard. Hopefully this is just one peak on what will continue to be a long journey.
I was walking down the street in Rome this afternoon holding hands with my husband and I kind of laughed to myself. He asked me what I was thinking and I said "this is so exciting." He shot me a curious look and asked, "what's exciting," and I replied, "the rest of my life."
So, instead of trying to create some allegory or inspirational message, I'll just share some thoughts on the last 18 months.
Most everyone knows by now that I've been through a lot transition over the past 18 months. I've gone professional, moved, changed coaches, gotten married, and switched my focus from the steeplechase to the 1500m. All of these decisions were made with considerable guidance from people I love and respect. I think the most important key to many of these decisions is that I surrounded myself with a very small support-group of people that are loyal to me and believe in the outstanding goals I'm trying to achieve.
My final year of college was such an incredible streak of records and championships. It was a magical time that will always define an era of my running career. It broke my heart when that momentum was disrupted by an injury during the following track season, my first year as a professional. But, determined to not allow the momentum to totally die, I cross trained like an animal and was diligent about rehab and therapy on all of my "weak links." I used this time to get into the clinic and the weight room and strengthen areas often neglected when mileage is the primary focus. A year later I was stronger and fitter once again and then during a visit to Boulder for the annual Bolder Boulder, I came down with the flu. We were visiting friends and I was in such denial that I went two days with a 102 degree fever before I finally went to a clinic. Even then, I didn't take antibiotics in hope that I could pull out of the illness in time to bounce back to race the Pre Classic the following weekend. Well, I did end up on antibiotics and the flu lasted two weeks forcing me to not only forfeit my trip to Eugene, but also to the Diamond League in New York as well.
It was at this point that I was ready to throw in the towel. I knew how competitive the 1500m was going to be at USAs and I had lost two entire weeks of training and was still battling through a nasty cough. It was the stability and encouragement of Juli, my coach, and Jason, my husband, who simply wouldn't allow me to drop my eyes or throw up my hands. Jason was hard on me in a very positive way, even going on runs with me to help me get out of the door when I felt terrible. Juli was a coaching genius, recognizing that I would want to try to make up for lost time and forcing me to be practical about each and every run and workout. My body was taxed and my mind was disillusioned.
At USAs I ran made it through the prelim and marched on to the most intimidating race I've ever run in my life. I felt compromised going into the final but absolutely ready to fight for every step. That 4:05 was one of the most difficult races I've ever run. I didn't focus on how hard it was for me afterword but it took me some serious time to recovery from that effort. I really believe that on that day, that was the fastest race I had in my legs. It was such a huge emotional victory though. My season had such a slow start and this was an important milestone along the way. It was important for me to remember that it's always worth making it to the starting line willing to fight because as I've said before, when you get your shoes on and out the door, your mind and body will often surprise you.
The month that followed included a crowded 1500m in Madrid and Monaco, an 800m in Padova (where I ran close to PR), and a 5k in Stockholm. Each and every race I just couldn't seem to catch a break. In Madrid there was a fall, Padova actually went well, Monaco had serious travel and logistical problems making it a very hectic week, and again, I got sick right before the 5k in Stockholm with an infection and was on antibiotics. It wrapped up to be a somewhat average stretch in Europe. However, I was actually gaining a lot of confidence. I was learning tactically from each experience and I was getting in some great training. There was an undercurrent of anticipation between our little group and we knew I was getting better even though my results weren't clearly indicating that to the racing world. Isn't that better though? It was like we knew something that nobody else knew. I was running workouts that I could never do before and bouncing back from each disappointment with new energy and will to fight.
I came back to Colorado for 17 days. I got right back to work not taking time to readjust to elevation or the weather. I did some long runs, workouts, thresholds, weights. I stuck to my routine, didn't change anything, and was getting stronger.
The first round in Daegu was terrifying. But, as always, when I got onto that track I felt such an amazing peace and was excited to get the show started. The prelim was a more intelligent race than my first and then the Final was a better executed version of my prelim. I think my prelim and final were incredibly similar races. Ironically, after the prelim, Hannah England and I were chatting about how it's a difficult decision during the race to either run outside and ready to pass or inside where it's shorter but risk not being able to "get out" if someone breaks away up front. We chatted about how in the prelim at the bell lap, you can see that I try to get out and I hesitate and stay inside for one more turn. Hannah makes the other decision and moved out. When it came to the final, I learned from what I experienced in the prelim and ran almost the same race except that I didn't hesitate with 400 to go. I stayed inside until the backstretch and then moved up from there. I had mental contact with the front group the entire race and if they weren't running away, I was going to take the shortest race inside. I haven't asked Hannah, but it's tempting to think she was thinking the same thing because her race execution was similar.
When I finished I think it's clear that I had no idea how to react.
So, I tell this outline of my most recent journey because it's the story of how I got to the top of the World's podium but also because I hope it provides hope to others. When things aren't going perfectly, you can still make the best of every opportunity. zJuli and I talked about how I was in the final and healthy; at that point, what more could I ask for? I certainly had some luck which I suppose could be said for most champions. You kind of have to have things swing your way in order to have the perfect outcome. But, most importantly, over the past 18 months, when the valleys seemed deep, I showed up to work hard and dream big and believe in my support group. When we did have indications that I was improving, I believed in it even though they weren't as public as winning a race.
Thanks to everyone that knows they are a part of this journey from Coach Getty to Juli Benson and everyone in between. You all taught me there has never been a secret to making Gold- just waking up, showing up, and working hard. Hopefully this is just one peak on what will continue to be a long journey.
I was walking down the street in Rome this afternoon holding hands with my husband and I kind of laughed to myself. He asked me what I was thinking and I said "this is so exciting." He shot me a curious look and asked, "what's exciting," and I replied, "the rest of my life."
Categories: jenny simpson
I think it is more a lack of emotional intelligence than actual arrogance. She seems smart in someways but clueless in others. She has bought to much into all athe acolades and hype.
Some athletes remain grounded and humble and some don't. I think of steepler Josh McAdams. Such a great athlete and so down to earth and humble.