Running News Daily

For more than four decades, one number has hovered over women’s middle-distance running like a mountain peak few dare to climb: 1:53.28.

Set in 1983 by Jarmila Kratochvílová in Munich, it remains the oldest world record still standing in women’s track and field. Generations have come and gone. Champions have risen, medals have been won, but the clock has stubbornly refused to yield.

Now, the question feels sharper than ever: is that 43-year-old record finally under serious threat?

Just a week after rewriting history indoors, Keely Hodgkinson has shifted her focus to the ultimate prize — the outdoor 800m world record. Her recent indoor world record was not just a victory; it was a statement. A declaration that the margins are closing and that the impossible may simply be waiting for the right moment.

For years, Hodgkinson has hovered tantalisingly close to the barrier. The 1:54s have become familiar territory — controlled, composed, almost routine for an athlete who has built her career on remarkable consistency at the highest level. Olympic and world medals have confirmed her place among the elite, but the stopwatch keeps whispering that there is still more.

“We’ve been saying for years now,” she admitted, “and I think I’ve just been tipping on those 1:54s and at some point a 1:53 is going to come.”

That belief no longer sounds hopeful. It sounds calculated.

Hodgkinson is careful to protect what she already owns. She has made it clear that medals — earned through championship battles and tactical brilliance — mean more than a time on a scoreboard. Yet even she recognises the magnitude of what breaking 1:53.28 would represent.

“Now I do really believe that we can break it,” she said. “I think the outdoor 800m record would be like ‘cemented GOAT.’ I do really believe it’s possible.”

That phrase — cemented GOAT — captures the scale of the challenge. This is not simply about running fast. It is about redefining the boundaries of women’s middle-distance running. It is about erasing a mark that has survived eras, technologies, and entire generations of talent.

What makes this moment different is momentum. Hodgkinson is no longer chasing from a distance; she is knocking on the door. Her strength through 600 metres, her composure under pressure, and her devastating final drive suggest an athlete entering her prime with unfinished business.

Records do not fall because they are old. They fall because someone arrives who is fearless enough to believe the clock can be beaten.

For 43 years, 1:53.28 has stood untouched — a relic of another era. But with Hodgkinson’s confidence rising and her form sharper than ever, the barrier feels less mythical and more mathematical.

Is 1:53.28 finally under threat?

For the first time in decades, the answer does not feel like nostalgia.

It feels like anticipation.