Free Blade Runner by Oscar Pistorius Page B

often so nervous that I am physically
nauseous. I want to race but all my fears and self-doubt
resurface and I am a jittering wreck. On the day of the race
itself I always find twenty good excuses why I can't race – I
am not up to it, I have a stiff neck or I slept badly – nothing
really important, but still I have to mentally work myself
towards a healthy competitive state. Yet once I cross the
finishing line, all I want to do is start the whole process all
over again. I believe that if you can channel this nervous
energy it can work to your advantage. Many athletes contend
that nervous tension is simply proof of your ambition.
    I will never forget my 200-metre race at the Paralympics
in Athens. There I was on my starting blocks, racing in lane
number seven, surrounded by athletes who were both much
older and much more experienced than me. In the sixth lane
was Brian Frasure, the reigning World Champion, while in
the eighth was a French athlete called Dominique André who
during his warm-up began grunting and spitting. I found his
behaviour both disturbing and nerve-racking. I could not
concentrate (which in hindsight was probably exactly the
point of his behaviour). I was completely intimidated. I was
only seventeen years old and a newcomer at that. To
complicate matters there were four false starts. When the gun
marking the fifth start sounded, I froze. I had convinced
myself that it was going to be another false start, and when
it was not I was so taken by surprise that I was immobilised.
It was horrible – by the time I realised that the second shot
was never coming I was already 1.8 seconds behind the
others. In retrospect my confusion was one of the things that
made my performance in that race so special to me. I ran for
all I was worth, managed to catch the pack, and went on to
win the gold medal. Marlon Shirley and Brian Frasure came
respectively second and third. My time (21.97) set a new
world record, which I have since improved on. It is hard to
describe my emotion – it was an incredible achievement and
a great triumph.
    It is astounding to think back on that moment of my life:
so much has happened since that it seems a lifetime ago.
When I look at the photographs of me on the winner's
podium with the laurel leaves around my head and gold
medal around my neck I am struck by how young I look.
    The Athens Paralympics were a fantastic experience. The
Olympic Village was mind-boggling: it was 4,000 square
metres in size and the food hall boasted the capacity to feed
16,000 people simultaneously and at any time of day or
night. There was no limit to what you could eat: the choice
went right across the culinary spectrum. Even McDonald's
had a counter that was 30 metres long, and all this was
entirely free for the athletes. As we were in Greece, the fruit
was delicious and plentiful. Once I had finished my races I
went straight to McDonald's, ordered five Big Macs and
proceeded to devour them one after the other. Pre-race Big
Macs are of course strictly prohibited, but once I was finished
I gave myself free rein.
    The Olympic Village also hosted two entertainment zones,
each equipped with huge TV screens and PlayStation points
with all the Olympic sports available. By the end of the week
athletes had blisters on their hands from their devotion to
PlayStation and the intense competitiveness with which they
had been playing the games. It was a serious business. There
were electronic kiosks dispensing a seemingly endless supply
of ice creams and cool drinks. Athletes had an electronic card
system that allowed them to order and consume whatever
they wanted for free. It was amazing.
    Once the Games were over I toured the Greek islands –
Mykonos, Paros, to name only two; there were so many I can
barely recall them all. It was a magical experience for me as
I slept on the beaches by night and by day toured my chosen
island by Vespa.
    But it wasn't just the beauty of the location or the
incredible facilities of the