Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5
I remember feeling so angry with myself. It was the end of the 10,000 metres final at the 2001 world championships in Edmonton, Canada. I had taken a gamble, run a totally different race to normal and it hadn't paid off: I'd finished fourth. I knew I'd made mistakes, I felt I hadn't given every last ounce of energy, and I just wanted to get back out there and do it again.
The race is probably most remembered, however, for an altercation between Gary, my husband, and me. I had just crossed the line and, glancing at the giant screen in the stadium, I saw they had mistakenly listed me as third instead of fourth.
"Why did they do that?" I asked Gary, who had somehow got himself down by the side of the track. He thought I said, "Why did I do that?" "Yeah, why the f*** did you do that? Why didn't you stick to the race plan that we talked about before?" he yelled at me.
Gary was not just my husband but also my manager, and his point was valid. But his timing was wrong. In a minute or two I was going to have to do television, radio and newspaper interviews. I needed to be emotionally in one piece.
"Leave it for now. We'll talk about it later; just leave me alone," I said, pushing him away as I walked past.
It was just one of those blow-ups that happen between two strong-minded people with a lot of invested emotional interest. We had argued before and would again but the difference this time was that we were the focus of television cameras and photographers at a moment when our deepest emotions were raw and exposed.
The television footage was beamed into millions of homes, the pictures were everywhere and everything was totally out of proportion. Gary's mum called the next day about it. Here’s what he says now:
Gary: I barged my way past these security people, got down there and saw her cross the line fourth. I didn't see her name go up on the screen as third and when she said, "why did they do that?" I had no idea what she was talking about and thought she said "why did I do that?" "Yeah," I said, "why the f*** did you do that?" referring to the way she had run the race. She said she wasn't dealing with that now; she had interviews to do.
I felt she was blanking me and never thought about the fact that there were television cameras on us. As she walked away I tried to stop her and she just kind of pushed me away. She then went up through this blue tunnel towards the television booths and I stupidly followed her. The BBC actually had footage of me inside this bloody thing which, thankfully, they never showed.
When she finished her interviews, I apologised. I mean she was devastated by the race and to top it all there was all this bullshit from me. My mother called and all she said was: "You are an arsehole. I was meant to go to the bank this morning but I can't now. Everyone is talking about it; I can't go out. What are Paula's mum and dad going to think?" That awful picture, the one of Paula pushing me away, was everywhere. The Times newspaper ran an unbelievable story about the bust-up. It was so way out, it just made us laugh. Paula and I were listed with all the celebrity couples who'd had a public falling-out. There was Liam Gallagher and Patsy Kensit, Madonna and Guy Ritchie, Paula and me: I kid you not.
If there was one thing I found upsetting about all of that, it was the portrayal of Gary as rude, pushy and awkward. That's not him. He's just fiery. It's the way he is. I can be fiery, too.
Something similar happened at the Sydney Olympics where I also ran a disappointing 10,000m. He kept asking why I had not run faster. Being physically exhausted and mentally wiped out, I felt he was accusing me of not trying hard enough when all I needed was some consolation and comfort, but Gary isn't strong on tact and diplomacy.
Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5
|
