Running News Daily

She’s juggling the University of Oregon women’s distance runners, the Bowerman Track Club, and a young family. 

Before she gives a new workout to her University of Oregon athletes, Shalane Flanagan will try it out herself. 

During cross-country season, it was a 5-mile tempo loop. Was it too hilly? Were the turns too sharp? In April, she was “messing around at the track one day,” as she described it, when she attempted a descending ladder of mile-800-600-400 at 10K-5K-3K-1500 pace with a short jog recovery.

“Yeah, that’s really hard,” she thought to herself. “But I think if they did that twice, it would make 10K runners feel really prepared.” Her goal with the experimentation is to make sure a workout is “feasible, but not outlandish” before her runners do it. 

Few distance coaches in the NCAA are doing what she does, testing hard workouts, although Flanagan, 42, is quick to say that she does not hit the same splits her athletes do. Her boss, Oregon head coach Jerry Schumacher, is not so sure. “I see her out running every now and then, holy cow, she’s flying,” he told Runner’s World, quipping that it’s too bad she’s used up her NCAA eligibility. 

Fewer still have the credentials that Flanagan, a four-time Olympian, has. She was the Olympic silver medalist in the 10,000 meters in 2008 and the 2017 New York City Marathon champion. Since she retired in 2019, she stayed on as an assistant coach with the Bowerman Track Club, a Nike pro group also coached by Schumacher that she ran for in the latter stages of her career. 

That experience gives her credibility with her runners. So when she tells her athletes that they’re ready to handle a workout or race a certain time, they believe her. 

“I don’t like to refer back to myself a lot,” she said in an interview at her home, a large 1920s colonial about a half mile from Hayward Field. “But I’ll say, ‘Hey, I’ve had experience with this,’ and I think they know, when I’m giving them advice, it’s not a hypothetical. I’m not projecting or guessing. 

“They know it’s coming from a genuine place, because I’ve lived it,” she added. “I think that can be helpful with their confidence.”

Multiple full-time jobs

Flanagan had been living near Portland, Oregon, with her husband, Steve Edwards, and toddler son, Jack, when Schumacher was hired as the head coach of Oregon in Eugene, two hours south, in the summer of 2022. He brought Flanagan on as an assistant coach, while both kept their responsibilities with the Bowerman team, which also moved to Eugene. It was a lot. 

Those early days for Flanagan—getting to know 11 female distance runners on the team, developing their training, learning the ever-changing NCAA rules, recruiting—were exhausting. And that was before they adopted a second child, Grace, as a newborn, in January 2023. They had only hours notice before Grace’s arrival. 

Flanagan gets childcare help for Jack, almost 4, and Grace, 1, from a variety of babysitters and her parents. Her father, Steve Flanagan, and her stepmother visit often. One time, Flanagan had some team members’ parents visiting, and she turned around to see her dad showing them her Olympic medal. “What are you doing?” she asked him. “Put that away, that’s embarrassing.” 

About three months in, when Schumacher asked her how she was handling the workload, she told him she was overwhelmed. “I’m really tired,” she said, “but this is the most fun I’ve ever had professionally. Like, I really love this job. I really love college athletics.”

Schumacher gave her full autonomy to write the training for Oregon’s women. And unlike with the Bowerman program, which former runners have said did not have much variation depending on the athlete, Flanagan has personalized training at Oregon for each individual. Some athletes on her team run as little as 25 miles per week, others go as high as 75. 

One cornerstone of her training is the weekly long run on Sundays, and most weeks it has some structure to it, with tempo portions or a fartlek. For most of the team, the distance ranges from 12 to 16 miles, depending on the person.

When she first arrived in Eugene, she wrote the training with ranges in mileage. Easy days, for instance, she’d have her runners do 6 to 8 miles, depending on how they felt. They didn’t like that. They wanted an exact number. Getting them to trust themselves, listen to their bodies, and know the difference between muscle soreness and a potential injury has been one of her biggest challenges. 

“I have tried to instill in them that they need to learn their body,” she said. “Like, I’m not in their body—they need to take stock and learn how to read their body. It’s one of the greatest skills and assets I felt like I had [as a runner].” 

Flanagan tries to run with various groups at least one day per week on their easy runs. “It’s fun to run with the coach,” said Klaudia Kazimierska, who was fourth in the 1500 meters at the NCAA outdoor championships in 2023. “She’s a great inspiration, and she was a great athlete. She tries to give us a lot of information—and she tries to show us that running is so fun.” 

Flanagan finds it easier to learn about her athletes when they’re on the run instead of sitting down and looking at one another. She’ll pick up vibes about what’s going on with them and urge them to limit their social media, especially when it comes to training. 

“They devour information about what everyone else is doing,” Flanagan said. “I tell them, ‘You’ve got to be careful what goes in your head.’ I don’t follow any other kids from any other programs or any other coaches. I think it would undermine my intuitiveness. I don’t want to know.”

At the same time, she finds her college athletes much more professional than she was as an undergraduate at the University of North Carolina, when she worked hard, but also focused on her classes and other parts of college life. Not these women. “If anything, I’m like, ‘Yo, you’ve got to chill out. You’ve got to dial this back,’” she said. “They’re really into their running and I don’t have to nudge or push. They are really on top of it. It’s kind of freaky.”

Mixed results

Flanagan’s approach has yielded immediate results, but some athletes have had setbacks as well. 

Last year, four qualified for the NCAA outdoor championships in the distance events, from 800 to 10,000, including three who made the final in the 1500. 

Early in the 2024 outdoor season, the Ducks seemed destined to have more in this year’s championship meet, which started June 5 at Hayward Field. 

At the end of March, Maddy Elmore set a school record in the 5,000 meters, running 15:15.79. Two weeks later, Şilan Ayyildiz, a transfer from the University of South Carolina who had been at Oregon for only about three months, ran 15:15.84.

Ayyildiz lines up at the NCAA championships this weekend, along with Kazimierska and Mia Barnett in the 1500 meters, and a freshman steeplechaser, Katie Clute. But Elmore sustained an injury to her soleus in late April and was unable to run in the qualifying meet for NCAAs. Flanagan’s total is again four athletes at NCAAs. She had hoped to have at least one qualifier in every event distance event. 

In her short tenure, she has seen how college students have to grapple with stress, classes, finals, and in some cases, anxiety. They pick up illnesses. The big result doesn’t always come at the right time—if it comes at all. “I see these things and I see how they move and handle the work, but sometimes in this season, I may not get the performance in a race,” she said. The coach is still learning. 

A busy summer 

Elmore might be back in time to race the Olympic Trials, which begin on June 21. Kazimierska will go home to Poland and hope to make the Polish Olympic team in the 1500 meters. As soon as the season is over, Flanagan will turn more of her attention to the Bowerman team, which currently has three women: Karissa Schweizer, Christina Aragon, and Kaylee Mitchell. The club had several departures from the men’s and women’s side after Shelby Houlihan’s doping ban in 2021 and the move to Eugene in 2022. 

It’s been difficult for Flanagan to watch the turnover, especially as some of the athletes she’d trained alongside for years, like steeplechaser Courtney Frerichs, left. They’re friends.

At the same time, Flanagan understands it. She changed coaches a few times herself during her career. It would be selfish for her to expect them to stay. 

“Especially at the end of a career, to eke out those last big performances, sometimes you need a change of scenery,” she said. “I actually think it’s healthy to get different training, a different stimulus. Sometimes you can fall into this monotony and it feels stale especially if you’ve been doing it for a while.”

When she heard from athletes that they were thinking of leaving Bowerman, Flanagan jumped in with suggestions. 

Her coaching brain took over to help. 

“At the end of the day, I want them to be successful and happy,” she said. “So when they expressed maybe needing a change, I’m like, ‘Okay, let’s work through this. What are your plans? I don’t want you to leave and aimlessly not have a plan. What does that look like, what do you want to do?’ It’s a natural evolution.” 

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.