Running News Daily

How failing in training and racing can make you a stronger runner

It’s Tuesday. No, it’s not only Tuesday. It’s critical velocity day. My coach has assigned me two warm-up miles and six 600 meters in 3:13-3:21 intervals, with a 90 second jog between each one. I head out to smash the workout. I’m confident. I’m excited. Then, I start. It’s blistering hot. Sweat is dragging all my face sunscreen down my forehead into my eyes. Water sloshes in my stomach. I’m so thirsty but I can’t drink anymore or I’ll puke. I start to slow. Miss my paces. What is happening? My head spins and I get this horrible gut-wrenching feeling as I pull through the last interval. My coach is going to be disappointed. My Strava record is going to be humiliating. Because I absolutely, undoubtedly failed this run.

Thinking of yourself or your run as a failure can be debilitating and keep you down for days. For a while, I thought I needed to stifle this feeling. But as it turns out, I should be making nice with failure rather than fighting it. 

So what exactly does it mean to fail a run? It looks different for everyone, but to many people in the running community, it means missing the splits you or your coach has set for yourself. You can fail in training and fail in a race – both are equally debilitating for a runner. However, running coach and founder of Run Your Best, Cory Smith, says this doesn’t always mean running too slow. 

“A lot of people think the faster you run, the better,” he says. “But if you’re trying to hit a certain zone or train a certain adaptation and you run too fast, then you’re training something different than your coach wanted you to train, that can be a failure, too.”

In fact, Smith doesn’t believe going slower than your faces should be defined as the typical, negative definition of failure. 

“Failure is data collection,” he says. “It’s learning information. If I fail a workout, it doesn’t make me a failure as a person or an athlete, it’s just an opportunity to look at the data and figure out how to grow from it.”

Oftentimes you’ll hear runners call it the “F word” or scold others for talking about failure, but mental endurance coach, Vanessa Foerster, wants people to use the word. She echoes the same thing as Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone – “Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” (That’s the only Harry Potter reference, I swear.) Foerester believes shying away from the word or thought of failure gives it more power. 

“We have an opportunity, with our language, to normalize failure,” she says. “If we can redefine it, we change our relationship with it.”

What both Foerster and Smith stress the most is that one bad workout doesn’t make or break you. Smith compares it to basing your retirement fund on one day when the market went down, even though we know it goes up and down all the time. 

“The most powerful thought around failure is that one workout never makes or breaks a race or athlete,” Foerester says. “We’re in a constant state of learning, if we open ourselves up to be.”

Beating yourself up over a workout can often bleed into your next run, creating a sort of downward spiral effect. 

“It puts you into a negative mindset, and then the next workout you’re going to put more pressure on yourself to do well to convince yourself that last workout was just a fluke,” Smith says. “This leads to anxiety, which can hurt your workout performance.”

One study reports that a negative emotional state can hinder athletic performance. Speed, specifically, was proven to be affected by emotional state. This study examined the correlation between sadness and depression and reduced running speeds, head movements, and arm swinging. 

In other words, failure can be heavy, if you let it. 

Like we said, failure looks different for everyone. So far, we’ve been talking about failing during training sessions – which can be referred to as process failure. An outcome failure, however, is not meeting an end-result or goal which the training was put forth for. Like a race.

For Addie Bracy, it looks like an uncharacteristic 116th place in the 100k CC. Bracy is an elite trail runner, placing first in the 2023 Behind the Rocks Ultra Race and third in the 2023 Speedgoat 50K. She has a consistent track record across the board and even has her masters in Sport and Performance Psychology. 

“I had a pretty poor performance,” she says, reflecting. “Objectively, one of the worst I’ve ever had in trail running, and certainly not the race I trained for.” 

Bracy says she can’t pinpoint a rhyme or reason why, but that it just wasn’t clicking that day. At a certain point, she realized the race wasn’t going the way she thought and reframed her mindset. Failure, in her definition, is only when you give up – and she chose not to. 

“I think that’s the beauty of ultras – they’re so long that you’re going through the mental process then and there,” she says. “I had thoughts of stopping, but I went through the mentality of ‘That’s not what you do this,’ and gave my best effort to focus on just finishing instead of making a certain time.”

This is what Smith identifies as performance standards versus outcome goals. 

“Outcome goals are the splits you or your coach sets or the final finishing time,” he says. “The performance standards aren’t outcomes, but how much effort you put into whatever that task is.” 

Meaning, Bracy started out at UTMB with an outcome goal of a particular time, and mid-race, reframed her foals to a performance standard to do her absolute best. 

“I think when it really boiled down to it, the goal of a race was to put yourself in a challenging situation and see how you can handle it,” she says. “I was still able to do my best that day – it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be, but it was still my best.”

But she wasn’t happy with her placement in the 100k CC. 

But in early September, Bracy took on the 100k CCC and placed in what she thought was an uncharacteristic 116th with a time of 14:48:21. 

Foerster goes a step further and says that failure is not only okay, but it’s actually beneficial to experience. 

“Anytime we can meet emotional discomfort where we have to deal with heavy emotions like disappointment, we teach ourselves how to navigate that more effectively,” Foerster says. “So that when we meet another uncomfortable moment in a race, we know we can meet it and process through it.”

In a study conducted by Ayelet Fishbach, Behavioral Science professor at University of Chicago, and Kaitlin Woolley, associate professor at the SC Johnson Cornell College of Business, it was proven that discomfort could lead to personal growth. By applying cognitive reappraisal, study participants assigned a new meaning to discomfort before they experienced it so it served as motivation rather than a reason to stop their goals. And, in the case of this study, participants who were forced into discomfort while doing a task reported a greater sense of achieve

Much like running itself can be uncomfortable, forcing yourself to address the emotions that come with failure can be an unfamiliar, disagreeable experience. But doing so allows you to feel, process, and recognize that you can change your relationship with failure every time you meet it. 

“Discomfort is the currency to our dreams,” Foerster says. “If we’re willing to meet it, all our potential is on the other side.” 

So fail, and fail hard. Address the feeling head-on and don’t let it define you, but just one out of many more runs to come. 

Long before he became the fastest man in history, before the Olympic gold medals, world records, and global superstardom, Usain Bolt was simply a gifted teenager with extraordinary speed and limitless potential. In 2002, on the track at Kingston's National Stadium in Jamaica, the world witnessed the first chapter of a story that would forever change athletics.

At just 15 years old, Bolt lined up for the men's 200 metres at the World Junior Championships with the weight of expectation resting on young shoulders. Competing before a passionate home crowd, the Jamaican prodigy produced a performance that instantly captivated the athletics world. Crossing the finish line in 20.61 seconds, he became the youngest athlete ever to win the men's 200m title at the championships.

It was far more than a gold medal. It was the moment the world realised that a once-in-a-generation talent had arrived.

Bolt's victory in Kingston marked the beginning of one of the greatest careers in sporting history. Over the years that followed, he rewrote the record books, dominated the Olympic Games and World Championships, and transformed sprinting into a global spectacle through his breathtaking speed, infectious personality, and unrivalled confidence. His legacy continues to inspire young athletes across the globe, many of whom dream of following the same path he once began as a teenager.

This week, that dream comes alive once again as the World Athletics U20 Championships take centre stage at the iconic Hayward Field in Eugene, Oregon. The venue has already witnessed the birth of future superstars. In 2014, it was where Britain's Dina Asher-Smith and Uganda's Joshua Cheptegei captured their first global titles, launching careers that would later produce world championships, Olympic medals, and lasting legacies in athletics.

Twelve years later, another generation arrives in Eugene hoping to create its own defining moment.

Among the brightest young talents is Great Britain's Jake Odey-Jordan, the 200m bronze medallist from Lima who now owns the European U20 100m record after an astonishing 10.01-second performance. He enters the championships eager to build on his growing reputation as one of Europe's most exciting young sprinters.

The United States will look to Tate Taylor, who has already made history as the first American high school athlete to break the 20-second barrier for the 200 metres. Fresh from a Diamond League victory in a sensational 19.75 seconds, he arrives in Eugene carrying the momentum of one of the most remarkable junior seasons ever recorded.

Jamaica, the nation that introduced the world to Usain Bolt, will once again have high hopes through Shanoya Douglas. The talented sprinter has established herself as one of the championship's leading contenders after producing lifetime bests of 10.98 seconds for the 100m and 22.11 for the 200m this season.

History has repeatedly shown that the World U20 Championships are far more than a junior competition. They are often the first chapter in the careers of future Olympic champions, world record holders, and global icons. Every generation arrives with ambitious dreams, but only a select few leave having announced themselves to the world.

No one can say with certainty whether the next Usain Bolt will emerge this week. Greatness cannot be predicted, and legends are never manufactured. Yet every legendary career begins with a single breakthrough performance.

For Bolt, that defining moment came in Kingston in 2002.

Now, under the famous lights of Hayward Field, another group of gifted teenagers stands ready to chase history. Somewhere among them could be the next athlete whose name will inspire the world for years to come.

"An athlete cannot run with money in his pockets. He must run with hope in his heart and dreams in his head." More than seventy years after those words were spoken, they remain among the most powerful messages ever shared in distance running. They are often quoted as simple motivation, but behind them lies a remarkable story of sacrifice, courage, conviction, and an unwavering belief that true greatness is never measured by financial reward.

Few athletes have left a legacy as enduring as Emil Zátopek. Known around the world as "The Czech Locomotive" for his relentless determination and unmistakable running style, he redefined what was possible in endurance racing. His legendary performance at the 1952 Olympic Games in Helsinki still ranks among the greatest achievements in athletics history. In the space of just nine days, he captured Olympic gold in the 5,000 meters, the 10,000 meters, and, incredibly, the marathon—a race he had never attempted before.

Yet the world in which Zátopek competed was vastly different from today's professional athletics landscape. During the 1950s, elite sport officially operated under strict amateur rules. Olympic athletes were forbidden from accepting prize money or earning a living directly from competition, although unofficial financial arrangements existed in many sports. Zátopek himself never raced for appearance fees or lucrative prize purses. Instead, he served as an officer in the Czechoslovak People's Army, receiving a military salary while representing his country. Running brought him glory, but not personal wealth.

It was within that environment that his famous words carried genuine meaning. For Zátopek, success was never driven by the promise of money. He believed the greatest performances were fueled by hope, ambition, discipline, and the courage to pursue dreams that seemed impossible. Those qualities, rather than financial incentives, formed the foundation of lasting excellence.

With the benefit of history, his words carry even greater significance. In 1968, during the Prague Spring, Zátopek openly supported democratic reforms in Czechoslovakia. When the movement was crushed, he paid a heavy personal price for standing by his principles. He was stripped of his military rank, removed from public life, and forced into years of manual labor. The man who had once stood proudly atop the Olympic podium found himself performing physically demanding jobs, far removed from the stadiums where he had inspired millions.

His story reminds us that the values he expressed were not empty words crafted for public admiration. He lived by them, even when doing so came at enormous personal cost. His belief that hope and conviction mattered more than material rewards became evident not only in the races he won, but also in the hardships he endured with remarkable dignity.

Distance running has changed dramatically since Zátopek's era. Today's elite athletes compete in a fully professional sport where prize money, sponsorship contracts, appearance fees, and endorsement deals can be worth millions. Success on the track and roads now offers opportunities that were unimaginable during the age of amateur competition. Professionalism has transformed the sport, allowing athletes to train full-time, access world-class coaching and sports science, and build financially secure careers.

Yet despite these changes, the essence of Zátopek's message has never lost its relevance.

Every elite runner naturally hopes to earn a good living from years of dedication and sacrifice. There is nothing wrong with financial success, and the rewards available today have elevated the standard of competition across the world. But history consistently shows that money alone is rarely enough to sustain greatness. The athletes whose careers endure the longest are often those driven by an inner passion to improve, to test their limits, and to chase excellence for its own sake. Financial rewards become the result of that commitment, not the reason for it.

When competition is motivated solely by wealth, its deeper purpose can fade. But when an athlete races with genuine belief, relentless determination, and an unwavering dream, extraordinary performances often follow naturally.

That is why Emil Zátopek's words continue to resonate across generations. His legacy extends far beyond Olympic medals and world records. It lives in every runner who laces up their shoes with a goal that cannot be measured in dollars, every athlete who refuses to surrender when the race becomes painful, and every competitor who understands that the greatest victories begin long before the finish line.

The economics of distance running may have evolved beyond recognition, but the heart of the sport remains unchanged. Every athlete still arrives at the starting line carrying something far more valuable than money—hope in their heart and dreams in their head. Those invisible qualities have always been, and will always remain, the true fuel of greatness.

Winning a major championship is never just about crossing the finish line first. Behind every gold medal lies a carefully crafted race plan, and Josh Kerr's unforgettable Commonwealth Games triumph in Glasgow was a perfect example of tactical brilliance meeting extraordinary finishing speed.

While the final time of 3:54.12 for the mile will be remembered as the official result, the split times reveal a much deeper story—one of patience, precision, and devastating acceleration when it mattered most.

Kerr resisted any temptation to force the pace from the gun. Instead, he settled into a controlled rhythm, allowing the opening stages to unfold naturally. His first four 100-metre segments—14.9, 15.1, 15.3 and 15.1 seconds—brought him through 400 metres in 60.4 seconds, a measured opening that conserved valuable energy while keeping him firmly in contention.

The second lap remained equally composed. Passing 500 metres in 15.3 seconds before recording splits of 15.7, 16.2 and 15.4, Kerr reached 800 metres in 2:03.0. The pace had eased, but that was exactly where the Scottish star wanted to be. Rather than chasing early speed, he was setting the stage for a decisive finish.

Everything changed after halfway.

Kerr gradually increased the tempo with smooth, controlled acceleration. His 900-metre and 1,000-metre splits of 15.2 and 14.9 seconds signalled that the race was beginning to stretch. He then surged through 1,100 metres in 14.3 seconds before covering the next 100 metres in just 13.4 seconds to reach 1,200 metres in 3:00.8.

From there, the home crowd witnessed championship running at its finest.

Instead of fading, Kerr became even stronger. He reeled off three consecutive 100-metre splits of 13.4, 13.4 and 12.8 seconds, dismantling the field with every stride. His final 100 metres were covered in a stunning 12.5 seconds, sealing an emphatic victory and sending the Glasgow crowd into celebration.

The progression of his race was remarkable. After opening with relaxed 15-second splits, Kerr transformed the closing stages into a demonstration of world-class speed endurance. His ability to accelerate continuously over the final 600 metres highlighted not only exceptional fitness but also supreme confidence in his race plan.

Championship middle-distance racing is rarely about producing the fastest possible time from the start. More often, it rewards athletes who understand when to conserve energy and when to unleash everything they have left. Kerr executed that philosophy to perfection.

His split chart paints the picture of a runner who never panicked, never wasted effort, and saved his greatest weapon for the closing stages. It was a textbook display of patience followed by relentless aggression—a combination that turned a tactical race into a memorable Commonwealth gold medal performance.

For aspiring middle-distance runners, Kerr's Glasgow masterpiece offers an important lesson: the strongest finish often belongs not to the athlete who runs hardest from the gun, but to the one who knows exactly when to make their move. On home soil, Josh Kerr timed that move to perfection, producing a performance that will stand as one of the defining moments of the championships.

At just nine years old, Oliver Smith has achieved something extraordinary—not by chasing records or medals, but by proving that determination, compassion, and consistency can create a life-changing impact.

Hailing from Wombwell, on the outskirts of Barnsley, Oliver set himself a remarkable challenge at the beginning of the year. Rather than attempting a single marathon, he decided to complete the equivalent distance of nine marathons over several months. From January 1 to April 26, the young runner covered an incredible 380 kilometres, breaking the distance into manageable daily runs suitable for a child his age.

His routine was built on dedication. Saturdays were reserved for parkrun events, Sundays for junior parkrun, while the remaining kilometres were steadily accumulated throughout the week. Averaging approximately 3.3 kilometres each day, Oliver never lost sight of the goal that inspired every step.

The challenge carried deep personal meaning. Last summer, Oliver's father, Tom Smith, suffered a devastating health setback after losing most of the vision in one eye. Medical examinations revealed a 4-centimetre meningioma wrapped around his optic nerve, leading to a complex 12-hour operation at the Royal Hallamshire Hospital in Sheffield.

Throughout the family's difficult journey, The Brain Tumour Charity provided invaluable guidance, support, and reassurance. Grateful for the help his family received, Oliver decided he wanted to give back in the most meaningful way he could. He launched a fundraising campaign with an initial goal of raising £2,000 to support others facing similar challenges.

What followed exceeded everyone's expectations.

Oliver brought his incredible fundraising challenge to a memorable conclusion at the Mini London Marathon, finishing on the very same day his mother, Hannah Smith, completed her first-ever London Marathon. It was a fitting family celebration of courage, resilience, and perseverance.

By the time Oliver crossed the finish line, donations had soared beyond £16,500—more than eight times his original target. His remarkable achievement captured the hearts of supporters, demonstrating how one young boy's determination could unite an entire community behind an important cause.

For Oliver, however, the journey is far from over. Inspired by the overwhelming support and the difference his efforts have made, he has already begun working toward his next fundraising challenge.

His story serves as a powerful reminder that age is no barrier to making a meaningful difference. Sometimes, the greatest acts of courage are measured not by speed or distance, but by the willingness to take one small step after another for the benefit of others.

Oliver Smith's inspiring journey is more than a fundraising success—it is a testament to the strength of family, the power of kindness, and the extraordinary impact that can begin with the simplest decision to help.

Sometimes the smallest opportunity creates the greatest triumph, and Jamaica's Navasky Anderson proved exactly that with a stunning performance to capture the men's 800m title at the 2026 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.

Less than 24 hours after scraping into the final by the slimmest of margins, Anderson produced the race of his life, surging to victory in 1:45.33 to complete one of the most remarkable comeback stories of the championships. His gold medal was not only a reward for exceptional talent but also for courage, determination, and unwavering belief when everything was on the line.

The journey to the top nearly ended in the semifinals. Locked in an intense battle with England's Max Burgin for the final qualification place, Anderson threw himself across the finish line in a dramatic dive, stopping the clock at 1:45.38. That desperate effort earned him the last available place in the final as the fastest non-automatic qualifier, keeping his Commonwealth dream alive by the narrowest of margins.

With another chance in his hands, the Jamaican made sure it counted.

In a fiercely contested final, Anderson displayed outstanding tactical awareness and patience throughout the opening stages before unleashing a devastating finishing kick down the home straight. His perfectly timed acceleration left the rest of the field with no answer as he crossed the finish line first, securing a memorable Commonwealth crown and one of Jamaica's standout victories of the Games.

Australia's Luke Boyes delivered an impressive performance to claim the silver medal in 1:45.93, while Kenya's Wyclife Kinyamal battled strongly to take bronze in 1:46.12 after another highly competitive championship race.

Anderson's unforgettable triumph will be remembered as one of the defining moments of Glasgow 2026—a powerful reminder that championships are not always won by the fastest qualifier, but often by the athlete who refuses to surrender. From a fearless dive that kept his hopes alive to a brilliant gold-medal performance less than a day later, the Jamaican wrote one of the most inspiring chapters of these Commonwealth Games.

Men's 800m Final Results

1. Navasky Anderson (Jamaica) — 1:45.33

2. Luke Boyes (Australia) — 1:45.93

3. Wyclife Kinyamal (Kenya) — 1:46.12

Navasky Anderson arrived in the final as the last man to qualify, but he left Glasgow as the Commonwealth champion—a remarkable transformation that perfectly captures the unpredictable beauty of championship athletics.