Adam Peaty is always ahead of the wave. This time it’s not his technique or record-breaking speed but his prescient moves out of the pool that are lighting the way towards a new definition of meaningful success in sport. It’s a bold move to restore the Olympic spirit and it’s exactly what British Olympic sport needs for its next chapter.
The buildup started with the same old narrative dominating the days leading up to the 100m breaststroke final: will it be gold again? Can he win three successive Olympic titles in the event? Can he make history as the first person to do so? But Peaty was intent on writing his own story, having finally wrest back control of it over the past year and a half.
He was out to test and prove that sport, however fiercely competitive and pressured, can be a beautiful rather than brutal experience. To show how a sporting legend can appreciate balance in life, value relationships for their lasting importance beyond apparently life-determining races, seek internal measures of fulfilment rather than external arbitrary outcomes and learn to connect at a greater spiritual level.
It’s 12 seconds of his poolside post-race interview rather than the 59 seconds in the pool that may last longest in our memories where he cried “happy tears” in gratitude for what he had gained rather than tears of grief for a loss. “It doesn’t matter what the time says on the score, I think in my heart I’ve already won,” he said.
It was a moment finally to dispatch those macho myths that you’ve failed if you don’t come first or, in the words of the depressingly negative Nike Olympics advertisement, that you need to be “a bad person” to be the best; maniacal, irrational and disrespecting others. Nike marketing directors should sit down and watch Peaty’s post-race interviews on loop.
It’s a sporting parable for our times. Peaty started off as the king of aggression, combative in and out of the pool, set on destroying his opponents. He won two Olympic golds but lost himself along the way. He awoke to the cruel realisation that those medals had brought little happiness. They didn’t heal his relationships, bring peace of mind or help him become the person he wanted to be.
Peaty knew that in order to return to the pool he had to find another path. Once committed to the search for a better way to succeed, he characteristically spared no effort to connect to inner values rather than external trophies and to nurture relationships more intentionally, including his beloved journey into fatherhood. He’s a man reborn, who has come “into the light” (as his latest tattoo confirms) through finding a faith and set of values in Christianity that outlast any scoreline.
Peaty’s story offers an allegory for British Olympic sport’s journey and shines a light on the path forwards. The current system was founded in 1997 and sparked an obsessive and aggressive chase for medals. Seemingly incredible outcomes followed: fourth, third, even second in the medal table. But then came the reality that environments of abuse, fear and bullying existed across multiple Olympic and Paralympic sports.
UK Sport talks about “winning well” in its current strategy, aware of the need to move away from the win-at-all-costs culture that prevailed. But it’s fair to say it’s not been entirely clear what “winning well” means. Some sports leaders grabbed the opportunity to redefine their sport and create thriving training environments, give a greater voice and opportunity to speak up to all within them and recognise the need to connect elite performers to the rest of their sport. The question I’ve heard repeatedly over recent times is: if we’re moving away from “win-at-all-costs” which at least everyone understood, what are we moving towards?
Peaty has given us a brilliant definition of what “winning well” means and the good news is that it’s also resonating with the country. Countless views across social media have outpoured more love, appreciation and admiration of him than ever before. UK Sport’s leaders often quote research that the British public want Team GB to excel and see them up there with the NHS and the armed forces as national treasures. But I think we can safely say from the public response to Peaty that they also welcome the sight of healthy Olympic athletes with a greater perspective on what really matters in life.
It’s time for some new posters for Nike’s next campaign, school gym walls and sports academy halls: “If you’ve given your best every day, never be upset about the result”; “it’s not about the end goal, it’s all about the process”; and “how you show up each day is what matters most”.
That Peaty tested positive for Covid the day after the race reminds us that much in sport, as in life, is out of our control. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give absolutely everything to stretch ourselves, learn about ourselves and explore what we’re capable of. But we shouldn’t kid ourselves that it’s always true “the harder we work, the luckier we get” or that we can guarantee results and therefore “shouldn’t settle for anything less than gold”. It’s madness to believe that human worth could be determined by a fingernail’s difference in a swimming race. This was a realisation that Peaty had internalised well before he stood on the starting blocks on Sunday evening.
Peaty will be remembered as a true Olympian long after many others because of his story and what he stands for. Defying narrow, arbitrary definitions of winning, he has brought a broader perspective of meaning, effort and gratitude underlined by a strong inner core of knowing that who you are can’t be changed by the scoreline. Excitingly, it’s a message he is on a mission to take to swimming clubs around the country with the “AP Race Club” and it’s a message that could lead British Olympic sport into its next chapter. The Olympic spirit isn’t dead yet.
