Dai Greene: ‘There were moments when I thought it might never happen’
The 400m hurdles world champion flipped burgers to make ends meet and overcame epilepsy before reaching the top
Donald McRae
guardian.co.uk, Monday 26 September 2011 23.00 BST
Article history
Dai Greene was confident he could become the 400m hurdles world champion despite finishing seventh in 2009. Photograph: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian
“I lived on the breadline a while and you get used to it,” Dai Greene says, as the new world champion in the 400m hurdles remembers his relatively recent days of hardship and trouble. Greene, who once worked at McDonald’s to supplement his meagre income as an athlete, also overcame epilepsy and doubt before transforming his life. “After a while you don’t want to live like that. You can’t if you have any hopes of becoming an elite athlete. The little money I had went on food because I wasn’t prepared to eat beans on toast every day.”
At the world championships in Daegu last month Greene displayed impressive composure and determination to beat a field that included five men who had recorded faster times than him this season. It was not an isolated championship win for the 25-year-old. In fact a gold medal in the 400m hurdles at the London Olympics will complete the set for Greene as the reigning European, Commonwealth and world champion. He could then make legitimate claim to being one of the greatest British athletes in history – despite facing so many obstacles.
Greene was once a typical student in Cardiff, surviving on a loan, but his predicament became serious in 2008 – soon after he failed to qualify for the Beijing Olympics. “There were moments that year when I thought it might never happen,” he says, as his disappointments merged with a financial crisis that worsened once he tried to become a fully professional athlete. "I finished third in the UK trials that year with the same time I’d recorded as a junior. I’d had lots of injuries but I thought I’d maybe reached my limit.
“In 2008-09 I was down to just £8,000 lottery funding and I probably earned a few hundred extra pounds from the odd race and a few thousand from part-time work. Without knowing it at the time it was a make-or-break season because if I hadn’t improved I would have been really struggling to hold on.”
Amusement replaces Greene’s calm seriousness as he describes the jobs he accepted out of desperation. “I did three years at McDonald’s, while at college, and then I moved on to part-time work at Next.”
Did the current world champion really flip burgers at McDonald’s? “I sometimes was on burger duty but I tended to be on the second drive-thru window. I worked weekends and I was the guy who handed out the food. I would usually be told off for chatting to the customers about their day. They just wanted me to say [Greene slips into an American accent] ‘Hi there, and welcome to McDonald’s!’ I’m not going to do that. At Next it was just a case of giving a guy a suit or jumper and saying ‘Does that fit you?’”
Greene pulls a face at the memory. Did he ever bark out that immortal ‘Suits you, sir!’ line – just to divert himself? “Never. I didn’t give them that much leeway. It was just very monotonous. I hate things that don’t push you – but I needed the money.”
Two years earlier, in a far more challenging task, Greene had taken himself off the medication prescribed for his epilepsy – which had first been diagnosed when he was 17. He had established by 2006, after a disconcerting seizure resulted in him being taken to hospital, that alcohol and lack of sleep were the most obvious triggers of his epilepsy. But he was certain that the pills were limiting him as an athlete.
“It was hard for my parents,” Greene admits, “because my brother Darren also suffers from it. But they were fine once I discussed it with my specialist who agreed to me coming off medication because I’d changed my lifestyle dramatically. I was no longer drinking and so I was confident I wouldn’t put myself in a scenario where I’d have another seizure. I very rarely drink alcohol now. I’ve had some nights when I’ve gone drinking at the end of the season but as long as I spend time in bed the next day I’m fine. Also, my girlfriend doesn’t drink, so that helps.”
Greene’s girlfriend, Sian Davis, was with him during his worst moments as a poor and failing athlete. “Sian saw all the low points. When things weren’t going well I’d be rougher on her, and snap at her. I’m not proud of those things but you only do it to people who care about you. It’s strange how it works. But she got me though some tough times.”
He was tested yet again when his former coach, Benke Blomqvist, returned to Sweden in 2009. “I was very upset because he had looked after me really well and we were improving as a partnership. But Benke advised me to go to Malcolm Arnold [the 72-year-old who had coached a variety of great hurdlers from John Akii-Bua to Colin Jackson] in Bath. I didn’t know too much about Malcolm at the time but he’s been amazing.”
When Green finished seventh in the 2009 final did he believe he could win the same world championship two years later? “Yeah,” he says. “I’d worked so hard to get to the final because I needed a PB to get there. I was mentally exhausted but I knew I was in touching distance of those guys. I said to Malcolm: ‘I can win this next time.’”
It still needed a gruelling training regime in Bath, running up and down the unforgiving hill of Claverton Down. “Malcolm always tells me that, ‘Oh, when I was in Uganda with John Akii-Bua, we had nothing but the red sun and the sky.’ I say, ‘Yeah, that’s more than we’ve got in Bath.’ It’s usually wet and the wind’s howling. It’s pretty harsh but a race is never going to be as hard as running up an icy hill in Bath in the middle of winter.”
Greene attributes his three major championship gold medals to that bleak hill. “My confidence comes from that preparation. I know on the start line I’ve done everything to be ready. So if someone beats me they are going to have to run a special race. A lot of people have superstitions – but I don’t need a lucky teddy or to put my shoes on in a certain order. I believe in myself. The last time I finished outside the top three was probably in June 2010. It shows I’m consistent and I won most of those races anyway. Some guys have run faster than me in perfect conditions – which we don’t get in this country – but I always back myself to win the race that counts.”
In Daegu, however, even the implacable Greene wondered if he had done enough in the biggest race of his life. “When I came to hurdle eight I thought ‘Damn, I’ve left it too late – I’ve really got to hammer it home now.’ By the time I got to hurdle nine I thought, ‘I’m catching them.’ Javier Culson [the American] was still in front but as soon as I took 10 I knew I had it. My stride pattern was perfect and I knew I was stronger on the run-in. As I went past Culson and dipped for the line I thought: ‘I’ve won …’”
The bricklayer’s son from Llanelli took a while to absorb his achievement. “It was strange. My dad rang two hours later and said ‘Well done.’ I didn’t know what to say – apart from ‘Thanks.’ I’d achieved everything I’d wanted and I didn’t know how to respond. It was just a case of job done. If they had been there I would have broken down in tears. But, without them, I just thought I’ve beaten seven guys I had already defeated earlier in the year. It was more a case of ‘Oh, I beat him two months ago, I beat him four months ago.’ That stops you getting overwhelmed.”
The next morning was different. Greene leans forward and smiles with something approaching rapture. “It was an amazing moment. I woke up and thought, ‘Yes, you really are world champion.’ There is not one single person in the whole world who is better than me at what I do.”
Greene is now sponsored and so we meet neither at a McDonald’s in Cardiff nor on Claverton Down – but in the London Bridge office of Red Bull. He stresses how such financial support has helped him but, significantly, Greene appears unaffected by his new status as Olympic favourite. “Malcolm thinks you either can handle it or you can’t. Personally I think you can learn how to handle it and I’ve been moulded by personal experience. I don’t think it’s going to be a problem for me. I felt very comfortable at the worlds with everyone expecting I’d win at least a medal. I’m not going to start doubting myself now.”
As befits a man who, at university, wrote a 10,000-word thesis on hurdling, Greene is aware that, in his chosen discipline, “You’re at your peak between 26 and 29 and the average age of the Olympic champion in the 400m hurdles is 26½ . I’ll be exactly 26½ during the London Olympics. So no pressure then.”
Greene grins, and it’s possible to believe that he will control the pressure bearing down on him. “This has been my best year, my most consistent year. I’m all about winning and I don’t really care how fast I run – as long as I win I’m happy.”
He may once have been a Swansea City youth footballer, who even scored a penalty against their junior counterparts at Real Madrid, but Greene relishes all the battles he won to become a world champion athlete. “I like the person I am. I don’t think I’d like myself as much if I was a footballer. No one can hide in athletics and all those tough times made me mentally stronger. I wouldn’t change it for the world because, even now, it’s helping me deal with my success. When you’ve been at the bottom of the pile, like me, it’s easy to keep focused on the next goal.”