“I feel that the IAAF has confiscated a large part of my life. I’ve spent as much time fighting them as I have training and racing. They have stolen years of performances not only from me but also from the audience—their joy at seeing me on the track over the years, win or lose, has brought me joy. The blow of every insult hurled at me has been softened by the love and admiration of people who watch me run.

“I didn’t do well in the event. I came in fourth and to this day, I don’t know what happened except to say I couldn’t find the zone. I didn’t yet understand that racing wasn’t just about being fast, it was also about strategizing and quieting the mind. I was used to running alone, my only company at times just cows and sheep and goats. I was used to running in South Africa. I couldn’t yet control my nerves. I resolved to learn and never lose again.

““I have thought about it, my friend. It’s over for me right now. If I continue like this, coming in last at these races, I’m going to lose all hope. My leg is killing me. I don’t feel well, Jukka. I’m sorry. I can’t. This is the right decision for me.” This period of my life taught me a lot. Sometimes quitting is the right thing to do. There are times when “powering through” really does more harm than good. By then, Maria and I had had a conversation and both decided it was best to end the coaching relationship.

“Jean was a soft-spoken and deliberate man. He had a calming presence. He did not push me. What we needed, he said, was to get me back to basics. More than anything, Jean wanted me to rediscover my love of running. He believed I understood my body better than anyone else. If he knew I was on the IAAF’s drug regimen, he didn’t let on. We never discussed it. Jean treated me like he treated everyone else in the group.

“Michael’s program improved upon whatever I’d built running barefoot and alone on those dusty grounds in Limpopo as a teenager. His philosophy was, “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” “We’ll just keep doing what you’ve been doing, Caster,” he would say. He believed in stretching things out, moving along slowly, conditioning, and then when the body was ready, you hit it. He didn’t rush things; he didn’t push until he was absolutely sure. Michael was one of those coaches who didn’t believe in pain; he believed in slow buildups. Maria’s style was hardcore. If the plan for the day was to run 200s in 27s, then that is all we were doing, no matter what. Maria did not rest me well, but she made me a beast, she recreated in me an image of herself. Verster was different from them. Verster believed in gut feelings. Before every session, he would ask me how I felt that day. It was an interesting thing for me. And I could be honest with him. If I said, “I don’t feel like training hard today,” he would honor that.