I had just run the fastest indoor hurdles race of my life, in a championship I desperately wanted to win. But instead of celebrating, I quickly learned I had to do it all over again if I wanted to grab that gold medal. Due to the noise of the crowd in Sheffield, neither I nor the other athletes in the final of the BUCS Championships 60m hurdles realised there had been a false start.
As we all returned to our starting blocks – except for the overly enthusiastic hurdler who had jumped with the gun and was disqualified – I thought back to the same competition last year, when I got injured during the heats and had to drop out before the final. A few months later, there would be another BUCS disappointment: in the 110-meter hurdles, I missed a medal by a hundredth of a second. Since then, I wanted to prove that I could do it when it really mattered – for myself and for everyone.
I had to concentrate on the final replay, and quickly. I tend to get nervous quite easily in big competitions – sometimes that meant I didn't get a good start, other times it led to hitting the hurdles. But in this first final, everything went perfectly. I was completely... I was in the zone , until I was told that my victory didn't really count. I got myself back in my blocks. When the gun went off, the nerves disappeared; I felt the same as the first time we ran the race. I won again – and this time I could celebrate! Shortly afterwards, I discovered that my first run in the final was only one tenth of a second away from the indoor world record – a huge personal best, albeit an unofficial one. My repeat time also counts as my PB.
Just eight days later, I was in Glasgow for the British Championships. This was the biggest indoor competition of the year, a step up from university level. The pressure was on again. I wasn't as fast as I could have been, but I still won bronze – another huge achievement for me, as I'm still at U23 level! The fact that these two events were so close together meant I was on an emotional high for practically the whole month.
Finding the right mental balance is so important in athletics. My coach, Jerzy Maciukiewicz – everyone calls him George – and my training partners really helped me with their pep talks and support, and I've been able to adapt better thanks to all the experience I've built up over the years. There's another reason why I feel more relaxed and confident during competitions now. It's something I didn't notice at the time, but in retrospect I can see that it had an effect. After coming out to my school friends, I also came out to my family and within my athletics environment – and that took a different kind of pressure off me.
RAINBOWS IN MY SPIKES
Growing up, I was initially more interested in music than sports. That all changed when I was 13 – I passed my Grade 3 piano exam, but I also set a school record for the 100m, despite being one of the youngest. Watching the London 2012 Olympics also had an impact on me, and I joined a local club in Bexley, focusing on sprints and long jump. One day I saw an older athlete running hurdles and asked my coach, Liz Slater, to let me try it. It clicked immediately, and I was soon coached by Tony Jarrett, one of the greatest hurdlers Great Britain has ever produced. Until 2014 I did some multi-eventing, but then I concentrated on the 60m and 110m hurdles.
In the summer of 2016, I was selected to travel to Tbilisi for the European Youth Athletics Championships. These were the best young athletes from the entire continent, and I was only 17 years old, making my international debut. I narrowly missed the podium, finishing fourth, but the whole experience was enough to change my mentality. I had always wanted to compete on the biggest stages in my sport, and Georgia exposed me to that. It only made me want to work even harder.
I'm currently in my third year studying Sports Science at Loughborough College. It was daunting at first, as so many sports stars have studied and trained here, and the facilities are excellent. But I was lucky to be placed in an apartment with other athletes, and once I'd settled into a group of friends and my training started to go well, I felt right at home.
"It is important to quickly make sports clubs a safe space for athletes, because then all barriers can be broken down and everyone can feel comfortable and be themselves."
Several of my university friends are also LGBT+. As I got older, more and more people felt comfortable being open about it within our university community. That was the case for me too. A good friend of mine is a hurdler and gay – he was always there when I needed support, or someone to talk to about certain situations that I didn't feel comfortable discussing with a straight person. At one point, I got a pair of rainbow laces and put them in my spikes. I wore my laces at the British Championships in Birmingham last summer when Andy Paul, who coaches one of my rivals, saw them and we ended up sharing our own stories about homosexuality within athletics.
We stayed in touch and discussed what we could do to bring more people together. Through his involvement with UK Athletics, Andy knew Donna Fraser, who leads inclusion and has spearheaded various diversity initiatives. Addressing homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia, and supporting athletes, coaches, and officials to feel comfortable in their own skin, had become much clearer messages. Because Donna was coordinating it, we contacted other LGBT+ community members we knew within athletics.
There were email conversations and Skype calls, and last December some of us met for a workshop in Loughborough called 'Let's Talk LGBT+'. It was really helpful – everyone shared their different experiences and backstories and gave their opinions on how best to move forward. From that meeting, the Athletics Pride Network (APN) was formed, with aims to support lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people; combat anti-LGBT+ discrimination; and improve access to athletics for people in the community.
COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET, BEING CONFIDENT
Regarding my own story, I'm fortunate that I can't recall any truly difficult times. I've always known I was gay, even from a very young age. I clearly remember being in love with one of my male friends in the final years of primary school. I never really thought about it and kept it to myself. In secondary school, I became friends with an older student because we were both involved in the Christmas pantomime production. He happened to be gay too. Until that point, I had many curious thoughts and unanswered questions. After letting them wander in my head for so long, I bombarded him with all my questions. I asked him how he knew he was gay, how he told his friends, if he knew many other gay people – it was all new to me. It was great to have someone older who helped me gain the confidence to come out.
That happened at the beginning of the following year, when I was 13. Initially, I only told five of my closest friends. But it was high school, of course… a friend accidentally let it slip, and the news spread like wildfire. Before I knew it, my entire year knew I was gay! I realized that everyone was suddenly aware of my 'secret,' but my friends all reassured me that they didn't care that I was gay. Most people I knew said they had a 'feeling' about it anyway, that it didn't change who I was, or that they were glad I'd told them.
"The support, love, and respect I received from my school friends... made it 100 times easier to eventually become comfortable in my own skin."
But then there was an internal struggle. At home, it's just me, my mother, and my older brother, and I only came out last year. I grew up Christian, and it was always said that 'man is made for woman' – because of things like that, I was in a shell. I resisted telling my mother to protect myself from potential conflicts. But it was churning in my mind, and it became increasingly challenging to keep everything secret.
Eventually, I reached the point where I had to tell someone at home – and the support I received from both my mother and my brother was immense. It wasn't what I had imagined when I was younger. It was the best feeling ever, like the whole world had been lifted off my shoulders.
Many people seem to think that coming out is easy for everyone in my generation. But in reality, it's very diverse – some don't struggle as much, but others are still really scared. Many people always knew they were gay or lesbian, but couldn't tell anyone until they went to university. It depends on the person and their circumstances. For me, the support, love, and respect I received from my school friends after coming out to them was so great that I can only embrace my coming out. This made it 100 times easier to eventually feel comfortable with myself.
WHY I'M SHARING MY STORY
This lockdown felt like a good time to talk about the APN, as I can't train much at the moment. I'm back home in Bexley and have to make do with exercises in the backyard – I recently set up a couple of dining chairs as hurdles, just to keep my legs working! If I don't use them, they lose their purpose. Stretching in the morning is also important. If I just sit around all day, everything gets shorter and it will be even worse when I start training again. Apart from that and courses, I'm binge-watching 'How To Get Away With Murder' and playing some piano. I've challenged myself to learn a new pop song every week and post videos on social media. Maybe I can become the next YouTube sensation!
Sharing my story and being part of the APN means a lot to me. I truly hope it resonates with other LGBT+ people who may also relate to some of my experiences. Hopefully, it can help them gain confidence over time and quickly find their own path to authenticity.
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Editor: Jon Holmes .
Original article from SkySports: https://www.skysports.com/more-sports/athletics/news/29175/11973843/ethan-akanni-coming-out-as-gay-in-athletics-has-boosted-my-confidence
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