Verity Ockenden on role models in the mud

Following a return to cross country in Liverpool, Verity Ockenden writes about why she’s still learning from one of her first role models, Emelia Górecka.

There’s no avoiding it at Sefton Park, the beating heart of British running will embrace you. Whether it’s the thundering pack or the sticky mire that chews you up and spits you out, you’ll finish rosy-cheeked and festooned in filth from head to toe either broken or triumphant, and there will always be somebody waiting to hug you anyway. 

It’s a rite of passage for most middle to long distance runners growing up in the UK, and as I walked through the melee of club tents again this year, I saw myself in the small faces of all the younger girls perhaps here for the very first time, streaming through the finish line with mingled tears and grins. It’s 16 years since I first raced on this course in Liverpool at the English Schools Cross Country Championships, which lends the partaking a ritualistic kind of nostalgia and a healthy reminder of my roots. 

Club colours are tribal and there’s a level of heroism present in every athlete who pits themself against the day’s elements, leaning into the burn as the pulverised turf clutches at their gaffa-taped laces. Stampedes of junior athletes christen the course nicely ahead of the seasoned seniors, and I’m reminded of who led the way for me when I was one of them.

One such heroine was Emelia Górecka, ever-present in the red, green and white of Aldershot, Farnham & District, slicing through the mud like it was butter, leagues ahead of the likes of me. Even when I began to move up the rankings from aiming for the top 50, then the top 20, and even an 11th place in 2017 when Emelia won the senior women’s race, I never thought I’d stand a chance of following in her footsteps for anything more than 200m, let alone towards a professional career, but she set an example that I looked up to nonetheless. 

When I returned from the NCAA having grown into my shoes somewhat but still operating with pretty raw naivety, I made my first British team at the Great Edinburgh Cross-Country in 2018. I was starstruck to discover that Emelia was going to be my room-mate as one of the favourites to win the hotly contested battle against Team Europe and Team USA.

Emelia was uber-organised and businesslike, exuding a confidence I could only dream of (by stark contrast I was a complete mess, having smashed my car into a hedge the day before I was supposed to travel) but she was also kind and humorous, lending me a little of her own energy to absorb and cracking self-deprecating jokes that helped me to relax and realise we were both just human. 

When race day came, I felt proud to know that any team points I scored would be tallied alongside hers and it motivated me to make every position count. I remember watching her disappear like an arrow fired into the distance in pursuit of Turkey’s Yasemin Can and listening to the crowds and the commentator on the tannoy losing their minds as she closed in fast, so very nearly snatching victory, while I heaved myself up the same freezing slopes of Holyrood a good 35 seconds back. 

Back then I would never have imagined that, this year, I’d return to Liverpool with Emelia continuing to inspire young athletes through her role working at On, the brand that have sponsored me for the past four years, and that she’d be cheering me on madly alongside my coach Chris who wrote so much of her training, too. 

They had just come back from the 10-day On Youth Camp in St Moritz, a project that Emelia has been orchestrating for three years now. It is aimed at giving aspiring 15-18-year-olds a taste of what professional athlete life is really like, with coaching from people like Chris, and all sorts of educational workshops about altitude training, nutrition, sports psychology, menstrual health, anti-doping and media training. 

These are all things that I would have loved to learn about sooner in my own career, and it’s amazing to see Emelia now providing the kind of invaluable knowledge that you only learn through experience for the current generation of young talent. They may not have been following in her footsteps quite as literally as I have been over the years, but they’re very lucky that she is now forging a path for them in a new way with such dedication. 

When I asked Emelia what kind of advice she would give to a young athlete thinking of pursuing a career in running (and to be honest, it’s advice that doesn’t hurt for me to hear even now as a 34-year-old either), she said: “Enjoy the process and every moment of it. Take your time, and make sure you keep a healthy balance outside of sport. Find hobbies in areas that genuinely inspire you and give you energy outside of training. 

“Listen to your body – pay attention to the small warning signs and to what it’s telling you. Most importantly, don’t measure your worth solely by results – the journey itself, the training, the friendships and the lessons learned along the way are just as valuable as the outcomes. The memories, experiences and connections you make will stay with you long after your career, and they’re ultimately what matter most.” 

It’s excellent advice, no matter how long you’ve been in the sport, and I was reminded of all of it over the past week of going back to where it all started. I’m conscious that one day it will end, too, and though I hope to keep going for a long while yet, I know that transitioning out of being a professional athlete might be just as challenging as it was to become one.

But, yet again, I find myself appreciating the example Emelia has set. She has transitioned from extraordinary athlete to extraordinary ex-athlete and so much more, navigating that journey with an abundance of grace, energy, generosity and a secure sense of identity that isn’t tied to running. Much of her ability to do that lies in the advice that she gives, which isn’t just the skin-deep kind of guidance that leads to short-term success but that which will stand you in good stead long after your legs are done running.