Editor’s note: Two-time U.S. Olympian Nick Symmonds will compete in the The Spring Marathons of 2025, which begin August 10 in Moscow. Symmonds will blog for Runner’s World before and throughout the meet. In this first column, he explains the significance of the world championships for professional runners.

Nutrition - Weight Loss.

For those of you unfamiliar with the metric system, that’s just shy of half a mile. The 800 is the event I’ve run in the last two Olympics. I placed 5th in the London Olympics last summer, and am still trying to live down that shame.

I say that 80% joking. I was proud to represent my country and make the final last summer, but the pain of coming so close to a medal, and returning home empty-handed, still haunts me. I flew home from London to the two things that comfort me in times of frustration: beer and my fishing rod. 
     

For three weeks the thought of training, or even token running, never crossed my mind. Then, one perfect Oregon afternoon, between casts, my parents rang and asked if they should start planning a trip to Russia. I took a long pull from the frosty can and made another cast. "I suppose so," was all I could muster. The next day I walked into my garage, dug around in some boxes, and found a new pair of Nike trainers. I looked at them sympathetically, knowing I was going to rip them apart with a million steps. My preparation for the 2013 world championships in Moscow would begin with a heavy and somewhat painful 30-minute jog.
     

Although the majority of the world watches track and field only once every four years, we professional circle runners, jumpers, and throwers are out competing intensely each summer. Mostly, we exchange blows in exhibition meetings that take place in Europe's famous capital cities, but every odd-numbered year we set our sights on the world championships. To the average person, “Worlds” as we call it, is a tiny blip on a summer packed with sporting events. But to the athletes, coaches, and managers involved at the top level of track and field, this competition is huge.

On more than one occasion I’ve heard people say they prefer Worlds to the Olympics. To a die-hard fan, the idea of track and field being center stage, with no other distractions around, is heaven. To the athletes, Worlds is often more lucrative than the Olympics—first place in Moscow will get you $60,000 in prize money, and maybe $100,000 or more as a bonus from your shoe sponsor, depending on your contract. The title "world champion" is one of the highest honors in our sport. We train just as hard for this competition as we do for the Olympics, and structure our entire year around it. 
     

I’ve competed at three outdoor world championships; tomorrow I will fly to Moscow to compete in my fourth. Despite my consistent presence at these competitions, a world medal still eludes me. Medals are awarded gold, silver, bronze just as they are at the Olympics and, over the course of a career can be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You don't really get much for 4th. That's what you have to love and hate about this sport: a tenth of a second or half an inch can separate glory and riches from the athlete you never heard of.  
     

My preparation for this competition has lasted 11 months and has taken place in as many cities. There was the altitude training in Mexico and Arizona, the spring preparation in my home town of Eugene, and the USA Championships in Iowa. Currently, I am in London, where I base my training in the summer. My preparations have been going quite well. I was able to pull off the win at my last race, the London Diamond League (seen above), and will be arriving in Russia ranked #4 on time. I am fit and confident but, as is always the case, it will be a grueling three-round series. To be successful I’ll need a bit of luck on my side as well. 
     

Over the next ten days I hope to give you an athlete's perspective of what an outdoor world championships is really like. From the pre-race jitters to the excitement of advancing through rounds and, hopefully, receiving a medal, I’ll do my best to be honest and open about my feelings and experiences. If you’ve followed my career, you know I'm not afraid to speak my mind or call it like I see it, and will remain unapologetic if I offend anyone.

It’s been 16 years since the United States last won a world championship medal in the men's 800, and I intend on changing that this year. I have the strong desire to do so, not for the fame or the money, but simply because I imagine the beer is sweeter and the fishing more enjoyable with a shiny medal around your neck. 



Next Time: Day 1 in Moscow