“I’d overhear coaches and other runners say, “That doesn’t look like a girl,” or “Why is this boy here with us?” I had no problem going right up to them and introducing myself. “Hello. I am Caster. I am a girl. Would you like to see? I can drop my shorts here for you.

““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.

“I knew I wasn’t the same Caster. I was still nursing my injured leg and I was grossly overweight, but all I needed was a chance. The director offered me a three-year scholarship. I would study sports science. Soon after, I met with Jean in person. Even seeing how out of shape I was, he believed in me. Potch was about 180 kilometers away from Pretoria. Violet wasn’t happy about the distance, but I would no longer be sitting.

““I told you I wasn’t going to make it this time, uncle. But I’m going to get you and the Nike people a gold medal at the Olympics next year.” Masilo smiled. He’d become a great friend by this point, more like a member of my family than the executive responsible for my sponsorship at a global company. “You do your thing, Caster. Rest now and you come back stronger next year. We are here for you. We believe in you.

“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.