Every athlete should have their own specialised training programme to minimise the risk of injury. And there is no set path to success. Life lessons from the undeniable comeback of Georgia Bell
I ran my last ever race in 2017, seven years before I won Olympic bronze.
That timeline doesn’t make sense, does it? Well, it turned out it wasn’t my last ever race, but I didn’t run competitively for a long time afterwards, and if you’d asked 2017 Georgia Bell after that college track meet in Texas, she’d have left you in no doubt: That’s it. I’m done.
I was 21 when I got a track scholarship to the University of California, Berkeley. I left home full of excitement. I was starting out on my American dream. I was going to get faster and by the time I came home I’d be a professional runner. Instead, when I crossed the line in Texas, all I felt was relief that it was over.
Before I tell you how that happened, I want to tell you about who 2017 Georgia Bell would have loved to have heard from. And that’s 2025 Georgia Bell.
I wish I'd heard more stories like my own. Stories about athletes whose journeys are different. Because it’s not the same for everyone.
You can have young athletes in high school who are incredible, but who never make it to the Olympics. Or there can be athletes who were nowhere in the juniors, but then medal at the Olympics. There isn't a blueprint.
At the start of my 30s, I am categorically faster than I was when I was 21, and I just wish I had heard more stories like that – especially after what I really, absolutely thought was my last-ever race.
And just like everyone develops in a different way and there are different ways to reach your goal, I have learned that every athlete should have their own approach to training. A programme of training and preparation should be aligned with the athlete, not prescribed to them in a one-size-fits-all style. One size does not fit all. I’m proof of that.
I was in the States for two years and overall it was great, but my time there was littered with injuries. I had two different stress fractures in my shins. The early signs were pain at the front of the shin, something like shin splints, and then gradually it got worse and worse. They say if it comes on quickly, it goes quickly. For me, though, it was in the background for a long time. I could feel with every step that something was wrong.
It took me a bit of time to come forward and say what was going on. I was on a scholarship, I was trying to be as positive as possible. I thought, ‘maybe I’m just tired. Isn’t everyone feeling a bit sore?’
I went to get MRI scans and they showed small breaks in the shins.
Stress fractures mean no running, no impact. A couple of weeks of nothing, total rest. Then building your way back into fitness with things like aqua jogging or the bike. But no running, no training, nothing that’s going to be putting pressure on while that bone is starting to heal.
Every athlete who is injured knows that there is a mental side that is just as important as the physical. In my case, I had been given this opportunity to go to a university which a lot of people want to get into. And the expectation is that you'll race as much as possible. I felt a pressure to get back as quickly as I could.
When you're injured, you get isolated from the team. You can't join in the sessions. There's just so much social interaction that comes with training, then suddenly you're on your own for all that time. And in my case, I had no family with me. I was going through this on my own.
After years of injury and lost confidence, I also lost love for the sport. And, when I graduated, I had to face the reality that I wasn't going to be a professional runner. Or so I thought.
Gradually, however, I realised that running is a part of my identity. It makes me happy.
Years after my ‘final’ race in Texas, I started to run again. I had been out for a couple of runs before lockdown, but when that was going on, I used to really look forward to the hour of exercise each day. I started to ask myself: ‘how far can I go?’
How fast could I do two miles?
Why don't I try to do a half marathon?
I was putting my results on Strava and I was getting messages from former teammates and friends: ‘wow, that was a really fast run.’
I did a parkrun and I ran a decent time – that's when I contacted my old coach again. I showed him the numbers. ‘What do you think? Do you think we should work together again?’
Luckily he didn't ignore me.
I now know I am a low-mileage athlete. I’ve got there through trial and error. During my time in the US, I was running 60 plus miles a week and it literally caused my bones to break. I didn't have enough bone density to support that kind of training. And now, as an older, more experienced Olympian, I know what works for my body and I never go past 35 miles a week. I've learned to adjust and I haven't had any similar issues since.
In my training group today, every one of us has a specialised programme, because all of us are different and the goal is to get everyone onto the start line healthy.
That’s what every athlete should know. We’re all different. We can’t all train the same way. We won’t all recover from injury the same way. And there’s never only one way to reach your goal.