For Olympians and prospective Olympians all over the world, the next few weeks and months are a kind of phoney war which will test, perhaps more than their physical endurance, their mental strength. These are the days when ambitions, if not carefully tended, can unravel.

That other easy assumption – that competing in a home Games will automatically lift every home performer – has not been made by those responsible for sending the home team into the Olympics and Paralympics in optimum condition.

Britain's men's hockey players, for instance, have already undergone lengthy sessions with a sports psychologist assessing the challenge of being home favourite.  

Earlier this week there was another glimpse into the mind of a prospective Olympian when Andy Turner (pictured below), the European and Commonwealth 110m hurdles champion who won bronze at last year's IAAF (International Association of Athletics Federations) World Championship, spoke of his determination not to familiarise himself with the Olympic stadium before he was due to compete.


Turner has based his policy on a perceived relationship with his regular training base at Crystal Palace – where he believes the fact that he feels so much at home has contributed to his muted efforts on his home track in the recent Samsung Diamond League meetings which have been held there. When he enters the Olympic arena – and if he is selected to do so – he wants to be challenged by the shock of the new.

Whatever the event, sportsmen and women with their sights on London are working like never before on getting their mental preparations just right.

It is a process which is thoroughly understood by former athletes such as Jonathan Edwards, the world triple jump record holder and Dame Tanni Grey-Thompson, who have guided the Athletes Committee which has advised LOCOG (London Organising Committee of the Olympic and Paralympic Games) on the design and detail of the Olympic and Paralympic Athletes Village.

As Edwards stressed during a media walkabout to show off the first of the fully kitted-out apartments (pictured below), what an athlete needs during the greatest challenge of their life is an absence, rather than a presence. They just don't want to have to worry about anything – they want a bed they can be comfortable in, blinds which black out the light effectively, lifts which arrive, transport which arrives, simple food which isn't going to cause them any problems. Physically, the need merely to tick over as they come to grips with what is, at the elite level, a challenge which tests their mental resources at least as much as their physical condition.

Edwards reflected on his alienation in the Athletes Village at the first of his four Olympics in Seoul 1988.

"I felt like I didn't belong there," he said.

"And all around me I saw these world-famous athletes and competitors sharing the same space, the same dining hall as me.

"It was very challenging mentally and I didn't react well.


"Like many athletes who are experiencing their first Games, I underperformed."

The environment was alien, but it was the fact that Edwards allowed it to get to him which made it so damaging. Twelve years later, in his final Olympics at Sydney, Edwards – already a silver medallist from 1996 – got it right triumphantly as he added the last gold he needed to his collection.

And this despite the fact that he was rooming with his good friend Steve Backley (pictured below), who – as Edwards smilingly recalled recently – snored. Edwards had also had to deal with a classic pre-Games media storm in a teacup when a throwaway comment he made about the propensity for swimmers to party after their events were over – swimming is always held before athletics at the Games – and hinted that in some cases it seemed as if partying was more important than medalling.

But nothing could deter him from his destiny, from his victory. Mentally, he was a different athlete from the alienated soul of Seoul.

Backley had the mixed experience of throwing an Olympic record in the javelin at the 2000 Olympics and Paralympics before having to settle for silver as the phenomenon known as Jan Zelezny rose to the challenge once again to claim his third consecutive Olympic title.

But in a career which included medals at three consecutive Olympics, as well as several world records and four consecutive European triumphs against Zelezny et al, Backley showed himself to be one of the world's foremost competitors, with redoubtable mental strength which often allowed him to achieve, despite wear and tear on his elbow and ankles obliging him to compete strapped up like a crash test dummy.


Earlier this month Backley brought out his latest book, titled The Champion in All of Us – 12 Rules for Success (Mirage Publishing, £9.99 ($15.82/€12.01). Although it relates broadly to life and business, it gets its message across by following the story of four archetypal characters in search of Olympic glory, characters who – as Backley points out – personify four features present in most athletes to a greater or lesser extent.

They are Could've, Should've, Would've and Did, and the cartoon faces of these four mythic figures adorn the front cover of the book.

Backley's room-mate has probably ranged across all four elements in his career. Seoul was where the Could've element came to the fore – essentially a lack of self belief which prevented him achieving what he might have done.

Edwards' failure to win at the 1996 Atlanta Games, which he entered as world champion and world record holder from the previous year, looked at first glance like a case of Should've. Under immense pressure, he could not respond, ultimately, to a man for whom this was the Did moment – home jumper Kenny Harrison, who took gold with the performance of his life.

Yet this is not quite the way Backley interprets Should've. Instead, Should've is conceived of as an athlete who is massively naturally talented, but fundamentally incurious, and a touch complacent, features which ultimately prevent them turning all that talent into achievement.

Would've is a character whose natural talent is limited by the fact that, essentially, he isn't that bothered.

Did, as the name implies, is the athlete who has the dedication and attitude required, although he too must make his journey of realisation that others can and at times need to be a part of his success.



By the end of the book, the four stand symbolically on the winners' podium after winning the Olympic sprint relay programme. Could've has become Can, Should've Shall and Would've Will. And Did has become, effectively, the new coach.

The values and precepts which have guided these four to the podium top are imparted by another composite figure, Coach. But the lessons he imparts as the quartet make their way towards a competitive peak are firmly rooted in the experience of Backley and other high-achievers.

And the quotes he offers along the way resonate strongly: "If not you, who?" 

"If not now, when?"

"Success is a decision, not a gift."

"See it first in your mind, then become it."

"When the four characters stand on the rostrum at the end of the book they are effectively four parts of a single person," Backley told insidethegames.

Backley is a Did athlete. But he says he when he started out in the sport he was a bit of a Could've figure.

"At first, I couldn't believe I was able to beat people until I actually did it," he says.


"I didn't have that confidence, almost arrogance, that a lot of successful athletes have."

When he recalls his javelin career, he can see clear elements of his book in some of his major rivals such as Seppo Raty, the dumpy but massively powerful Finn who won world gold and Olympic silver, and the man whose world record has not been seriously challenged since he retired, Zelezny.

"Seppo was essentially a weightlifter," Backley says.

"He would do what he did and that was that.

"For instance, he would never run.

"If you ever saw Seppo jogging in the warm-up it meant he was nervous.

"My German rivals also tended to be very rigid in the way they prepared.

"They would do things in the way things had always been done.

"But Jan always had a very enquiring and open mind.

"He was always looking for new things to make a difference, some of which appeared way 'out-there'."

"But he was always willing to change things, and you had to respect that."

Backley's book has already been read and very well received by some of Britain's aspiring London 2012 Olympians, including Goldie Sayers, who produced the throw of her life at the Beijing Olympics, raising her British record to 65.75 metres, only to miss out on a medal by one place.

"Goldie said it had all made sense, and that she could relate to all of it," Backley said.

Four years on Sayers will be re-setting her sights on the Olympic podium; and if she should manage to do even better than she did in Beijing, it would be the ultimate compliment for Backley's distilled wisdom if reading his book had contributed in some way. Here's hoping.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, has covered the past five Summer and four Winter Olympics for The Independent. Previously he has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, the Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. He is now chief feature writer for insidethegames. Follow him on Twitter here.