Weirwolf Page 17

  I was still feeling relaxed as we lined up for the start. When the gun went it was the Chinese athlete Liu Yang who made the early running. He was a bit of an unknown quantity. But I wasn’t too concerned. If it had been his teammate Lixin then I might have been a bit worried. As expected, by the end of the lap he fell away.

  I positioned myself in my usual place, in lane two in second or third place, poised to strike, staying out of trouble. Then, as we approached lap three, Josh Cassidy of Canada came up to me on the outside. At first I was a bit cautious because I didn’t know who it was. I worried about getting boxed in. But he shouted across to me that he wasn’t going to do that. Because Josh and I are friends I was pleased he was there next to me. He was the best person to be there at this point. Although we are rivals we were helping each other out.

  As for my big rivals, Kurt and Marcel, I had no idea where they were. I only found out when I watched it back that Kurt was stuck at the back, having the worst race I have ever seen him in.

  As Thailand’s Saichon Konjen chased Yang down I stayed on his wheel. Then, on the last lap, I found myself in the perfect position with his teammate Prawat on the outside of me. I decided to go for it with a lap to go. I didn’t want to wait. I opened up as much as I could on the back straight and took the lead with about 300 metres to go. If you look back at the TV pictures my arm speed appeared the same as the others but I was just pulling away from them all the time. I was in another place – the noise from the crowd just lifting me, pushing me on and on to the finish. Usually you feel a little bit tired going into the home straight, but I didn’t. I kept hammering it until I crossed the line, winning gold in a time of 3:12.09. Prawat was second and the Korean Kim Gyu-Dae got bronze.

  Just like Sunday night and the 5,000m, the Olympic Stadium erupted in joy. I went crazy, waving my arms around and punching the air. It was such a powerful feeling to be the conductor of this amazing noise. And now to have two gold medals! I looked around at all these faces, boys and girls screaming their heads off, going nuts. I saw my friends again, Leon, Tarick and Ricky. I remember them leaning over the front rail but I couldn’t get close to them. Ricky said later he could see I was in the zone and just welling up.

  As I worked my way through the mixed zone it seemed the press pack asking me questions had grown a lot since Sunday night. You had your regulars like Gareth A. Davies of the Telegraph. He has always been around for my big races and is such a great supporter of Paralympic sport. I can remember him putting up four fingers after that race, telling me I would go on and win all four gold medals. But there were also lots of new journalists there, showing interest for the first time. I felt really flattered that some of these big writers and journalists were now, in this incredible summer of British sport, focusing their attention on me.

  With the medal ceremony happening the same night as the final I didn’t have much time to do anything. I hadn’t eaten for hours so I tried to get a quick bite, whatever I could grab, energy bars, Lucozade, anything. It didn’t matter, though. I couldn’t wait for this ceremony. I didn’t have any nerves this time. I just enjoyed every moment and belted out ‘God Save the Queen’ at the top of my voice. Again, I wanted to show people how much I cared about competing for my country.

  I tried to unwind afterwards. As an athlete in the middle of a schedule like mine, you couldn’t afford to switch off too much. The heats of the 800m were the next day and I had to move on quickly. I couldn’t wallow in the emotion of it all. It was just eat, sleep, drink and get yourself ready for the next race. I knew Thursday was a big night for Paralympics GB and I wanted to make sure I got the heat right.

  I went over to the warm-up track to see Jenny. She never goes into the stadium to watch me in big races. She is superstitious in that way. She thinks she might put a jinx on me or something. She has taken some stick for it over the years. It was only when Lloyd Cowan, Christine Ohuruogu’s coach, came up to her and said, ‘Don’t worry, I do the same thing,’ that she felt a bit more at ease about it. She can see everything better on TV and she doesn’t get caught up in the emotions.

  When we met up she gave me a massive hug. She kept saying we had proved everyone wrong. She felt she could walk around with her head held high and whatever anyone else said it didn’t matter. I just wished Emily was there too, but I didn’t want her to come up to the stadium. My finals were always late and with Mason it just meant a lot of hassle.

  When I eventually got back to my room I remember taking a picture of my two gold medals and sticking it on Twitter. I just left it at that – I didn’t write anything to go with the picture. I didn’t need to. I then closed them away in the drawer by my bed, locked it and went to sleep. Even at that point, with two already banked, I wasn’t thinking, ‘I can get four.’ I was just thinking of the next race.

  Day Six: Wednesday 5 September. 800m heats

  I was now halfway through. I had two golds and I had broken the back of my schedule. I just had three more days of racing. I didn’t feel too bad, pretty strong. That day I knew I had a tough heat. Kurt and Marcel were with me in the second of three heats and only the top two could go through to the final, plus a couple of fast losers. This time I didn’t take any chances. I hit the front earlier than usual and looked back to see where Marcel and Kurt were and they were a long way back. Kurt didn’t make it. He came third and missed out. I never expected that. He was the 800m silver medallist in Beijing and I just always expect him to be alongside me in the big finals. As for me, I was just cruising and won easily in a time of 1:37.09 – a good second and a bit ahead of Marcel. At that point I did start to think I could get three gold medals and better my two from China in 2008.

  Because the heat was all done and dusted by 10.30 a.m. I had the rest of the day to chill out and try and get some rest, take on some food and try to prepare for what would be the most memorable night of the London Paralympics.

  Day Seven: Thursday 6 September. 800m final

  If the Olympic Games had ‘Super Saturday’, then the Paralympics had ‘Thriller Thursday’. Even before the athletics started that night Paralympics GB had won three gold medals – Josef Craig in the pool, Sarah Storey in the velodrome and Helena Lucas in a keelboat. The athletes had the chance to double that tally with Hannah Cockcroft in the T34 200m, Jonnie Peacock in the T44 100m and yours truly in the T54 800m.

  It was also the night when the Weirwolf legend really took off. The whole thing started with the C4 presenter Rick Edwards. He came up with the nickname on the Paralympic show a few years earlier. We were doing a competition with able-bodied guys who worked in the sports business. One was a body builder, one a lifeguard and one a gymnast. The challenge was for them to get in a racing chair and beat me over 100m. As a bit of a laugh, Rick gave everyone WWF wrestling-style nicknames. I think the bodyguard was called ‘The Unit’ and that was when he suggested calling me ‘Weirwolf’.

  Then, during the Games, Rob, one of the team doctors, found an old song by a rock singer, Warren Zevon, called ‘Werewolves of London’. It wasn’t to my usual taste but it has a couple of funny lines like ‘There was a hairy-handed gent who ran amok in Kent’ and a catchy chorus you can howl along to. I have to admit I quite liked it and once Rob posted it online it took on a life of its own.

  Before I knew it, it was all over the place and someone in the team had tracked down some werewolf masks from somewhere (God knows where in the middle of a Paralympic Games) and brought them down to the stadium for the final of the 800m. They even played the song in the stadium that night. I came to really like it. After all, Usain Bolt had the lightning bolt, Mo had the Mo-bot, Wiggo had his sideburns and mop top and now I was the Weirwolf. I have always loved the way British sport creates big characters.

  I had to try not to get carried away with all the excitement and attention. The 800m was possibly the toughest of all my track races in London and I planned to go for it from the start. To treat it as if it was a 400m race.

  After the first bend I was l
evel with Zhang Lixin, which was really good. I knew he would be the fastest so I just sat on his back wheel. Behind me there was a bad crash involving America’s Jordan Bird, my mate Josh Cassidy of Canada and the Frenchman Julien Casoli. It was quite a bad one and Julien didn’t finish in the end. Fortunately, I was out of trouble because Lixin was pushing quite hard.

  It was only then that I noticed my zip had come down on my top and I was exposing my chest to the world. I have no idea what happened to it but all of a sudden the top was flapping around. I was thinking, ‘This isn’t very aerodynamic.’ All those days in wind tunnels testing helmets and your chair, only for your zip to break and slow you down. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t stop to do it up. I had to push through it.

  I was feeling quite tired and drained but as we hit the final lap the roar went up. Lixin was pushing 22mph on the final bend and I was just praying he wasn’t going to go faster. I opened up off the back of the last bend and my speed stayed the same all the way down the home straight. Lixin started going backwards. He just faded as he hit the home straight but I felt I was never going to fade.

  Then I was worried about Marcel. Normally you will see a wheel creeping up on your outside. But it didn’t happen. No one got near me.

  People might think that after you win one or two golds, the impact of another one doesn’t feel quite so special. I can assure you the opposite is true. It just feels better and better. If you look back at the replays of the finish and my victory lap, I cross the line and then start waving my arms around like a maniac, really enjoying the moment. Then all of a sudden I start fiddling with my top again, trying to fix it and pull the zip up. I know it might sound silly but I just felt a bit self-conscious. It took me ages to get a grip and do it up.

  That was when I saw my mum and dad in the crowd, but I couldn’t get over to them. They were crying and everyone was turning to them. The nice thing about that is that they actually had tickets for much higher up and some other friends swapped with them so they could be closer to the track in case I won and they could get to see me afterwards. I know my mum and dad were so grateful for that, it was such a nice gesture. My mum asked me afterwards if I couldn’t see them. She said my eyes were just black, as if I was in another world. It was a surreal moment. I kept wondering if I was ever going to wake up. I eventually got over to them, but I only had seconds because the officials were rushing us on. They were hassling me to get over to the mixed zone to do my interviews. That was actually the first time I spotted the group of team members wearing the werewolf masks. At one point my Welsh teammate Aled Davies took his mask off. When he did I could see he was in tears. It was a very touching moment – to see your own teammates so moved by what you had achieved.

  It was such an extraordinary night to be involved in. Before I raced, Hannah had already won gold in the 200m, and I was still talking to the cameras in the mixed zone at the side of the track when Jonnie Peacock won in the 100m – against Oscar Pistorius. There had been so much hype and attention over the previous couple of days. He was only nineteen, and he must have felt under enormous pressure.

  And then there was a false start. If that had been me at his age I would have been a bag of nerves. But he raised a finger to his lips and SSSSHHHHHDDDD the crowd. I was very impressed. He could have gone to pieces. The crowd was shouting his name over and over again. I knew at that point we had really captured the imagination of this public.

  Jonnie’s race was the only race I watched live in the whole Games. I just so wanted to watch a British athlete wipe the floor with Oscar. He was the world record holder, under pressure. To see Jonnie cross that line and see him overwhelmed and elated was just brilliant.

  We both got our medals that night and while we were waiting we gave each other a big hug.

  I got my medal from the comedian Eddie Izzard. He just said, ‘Bloody brilliant.’ And then singing the national anthem for a third time in that stadium – everyone joining in, belting it out with such pride. I never got bored of it.

  I didn’t even get drug tested so I didn’t spend the next three hours sitting in a room waiting to pee. A lot of people might find it surprising that the winner of a Paralympic gold medal didn’t get automatically drug tested. But the anti-doping officials said there was no point – I had already been tested three times since the Games started, once in the village when I arrived and then after the 5,000m and the 1,500m.

  So far I haven’t come across performance-enhancing drugs in wheelchair racing. That doesn’t mean I haven’t come across suspicion. Back in 2006 and 2007, when I was breaking world records, I knew people would be asking themselves how I was doing it. But it was just pure training. And besides, I am probably the most tested athlete in Paralympic sport. During the 2006 World Championships I was tested two or three times a day.

  I actually welcome that. The more you are tested the better, as far as I am concerned, because it shows you aren’t on drugs. That’s not to say the system is perfect. Far from it. You can figure it out. If I went on a training camp they would test me before I went or when I came back. Sometimes both. A week before the marathon I would always get tested and then in the marathon itself. Leading into a big championships I would get tested two or three times.

  I don’t think that’s enough and it’s too predictable. But the thing that really annoys me is the lack of consistency. Every single country that competes in the Olympics and Paralympics should do the same level of testing as us. Then it would be fair. America, Canada, Australia – they do it. But lots don’t have the systems in place. And I know what WADA (the World Anti-Doping Agency) and the other anti-doping agencies will say: lots of smaller countries don’t have the money. Well, WADA should take it on, then. They must have the money.

  Having said that, I do think most Paralympians are clean. And in wheelchair racing we are, on the whole, honest people who love racing each other. There are always other ways to improve that 1 or 2 per cent: technology and good diet – like the cycling team has done for years and years. There are alternative ways to putting dope in your system.

  When you are seeing all these athletes getting caught in the Olympics, it makes me angry. And I do think the Olympics are dirtier than the Paralympics. Maybe there’s more at stake, greater competition.

  I know some people are suspicious of the Paralympians because a lot of the athletes have to take medication. But what can they do? As long as they aren’t using them to cheat.

  For once I was back to my room nice and early. But, irritatingly, I couldn’t sleep. I was still up at 4 a.m. I might as well have done a drugs test. I just couldn’t drop off. So I got my London 2012 duvet from my bed, went into the living room and sat on the sofa watching the BBC news channel. For the first time in a week, I didn’t have anything to do the next day – or the day after. That was perhaps why I was still wide awake, buzzing from probably the most incredible night British Paralympic sport has ever seen.

  Day Eight: Friday 7 September. Rest day

  I was so exhausted when I woke up on Friday morning. Part of me felt that my job was done. But I so wanted that marathon. I now had two complete days of rest to try and rebuild my strength for that race.

  Later that day I was meeting Emily and Mason in the family zone at Team GB House, Westfield. It was the first time I had done that during the whole Games. She got lost, bless her, and she was quite upset about it all, especially being pregnant. She got off at the wrong tube stop.

  Once she met me she was OK. She had been so anxious to see me – it was more than two weeks since we had been together. She said she was worried I might have to rush off for some reason. But I reassured her that I would be spending the whole day with her. It was so good to see my little boy. He had started walking on his first birthday, about six weeks earlier, so he was tottering around GB House. Emily had asked me to bring my medals with me to show them off. I opened the bag and took them out and put them on the table. She picked them up and put them on. And then she said, ‘Now fo
r number four, Dave.’

  I didn’t say anything but in my mind I was thinking, ‘I am so tired.’ I just said I would give it my best shot.

  Then she proceeded to tell me about how I was everywhere and how everyone on the estate was talking about me. I couldn’t believe the number of people who were planning to come up to town for the marathon.

  By this point she was really showing with Tilly. She only had a month to go. But throughout the Games I was worried the baby might come early. Mason had. I was always ringing home to make sure Emily was OK. I felt like I should have been there and helping but this was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

  When it came time to say goodbye to her and Mason it was really tough, but I only had two more days to go so that kept me going. Having had such a horrible journey across London I made sure she didn’t get a train back this time. The security guard who was looking after me took her down to where she could get a black cab to take her all the way back. I gave her £60 or £70 to get home.

  I then headed back to the village, got a bit of dinner and crashed out.

  Day Nine: Saturday 8 September. Rest day

  I still felt really tired and drained. By this point it was too late to pull out of the marathon. At lunchtime all those doing the marathons had to pack up and move to a hotel around the corner from St James’s Park. It was strange to be out of the village. I spent most of the afternoon checking my chair – making sure my tyres were road ones and that everything was set up just right for the 26.2-mile course. The weather was really hot and I was anticipating having to compete in temperatures above 27 degrees. Suddenly I was glad I had done all that work in the sweltering heat of Portugal in July. It was going to come in handy.