The year is 2010. It’s my first track and field day at school. I’m on the starting line of the 50-meter dash on a sunny day in a grassy field. I have one goal in mind: I must cross that line first.
Regardless of the outcome, I had fun. At least that’s how I remember it all those years ago. At the time, I didn’t have to be conscious of having fun in track, it came naturally. However, the older I got, the harder it became to find enjoyment and belonging in sport. Since realizing why, I have grown to have a greater appreciation for my involvement in the track and field world.
I have been involved with competitive track and field for over ten years. For the last four years, I have been studying psychology and sociology at the University of Saskatchewan and competing with the Huskies. I am Nigerian and was born and raised in Saskatoon by my parents who immigrated from Nigeria. Because of the support of my family, I was able to do track and field, which led me to many opportunities and achievements.
Throughout my track and field career, I have been a part of multiple Team Saskatchewan track and field teams. I am a Canadian Outdoor National medallist, a U Sports medallist and I have broken the Huskie triple jump record six times. Most recently, I became a three-time Canada West triple jump champion and a Canada West triple jump record holder. These achievements reflect the encouragement from my family and the inspiration I draw from the Black role models who have shaped my journey.
If my younger self heard this list of accomplishments, she would be ecstatic. When I first started track, I thought success in sport was winning and recognition. However, even when I did win, the satisfaction lasted only a short time. This made me believe that I wasn’t meant to have fun in an individual sport and if I did, it would be standing on a podium.
Eight years ago, I started triple jumping; it came more naturally than the other events. Jumping was fun at first, but at some point during my late teen years, I had a jarring realization. After winning silver at the 2022 U20 Canadian Outdoor Nationals, most Saskatchewan athletes had left the meet and I had no one to celebrate with. I began to see how lonely an individual sport could be. I desired more for myself and from the sport. Looking back, this moment was the beginning of the loneliness that I would continue to experience with track in the years to follow. It gradually stopped feeling like an outlet and more like an obligation.
As I began university, I found myself still wanting to quit track despite the success. Balancing the demands of being a student athlete, searching for a career path and losses on the track challenged me to consider my identity beyond sport. While my first, third and fifth years were marked by success, my second and fourth years put me far out of my comfort zone. In hindsight, it was the losses and perceived setbacks that I learned from the most and experienced the greatest personal growth.
Many coaches and athletes have supported me in my athletic journey thus far. However, Black coaches and athletes had a specific understanding, encouragement and counsel that they offered because of similar lived experience. There was something special about having a community of Black student-athletes on my team and beyond. These people gave me a sense of belonging and love and grew in me a confidence that I didn’t understand the significance of until I experienced it. They believed in me and dared me to dream big. I didn’t have to alter parts of my identity or change the way I presented myself.
Although track and field is an individual sport, I now understand that even when I stand on the runway alone, I am upheld by these people as their support spurs me on in immeasurable ways. They motivate me to commit to sowing seeds and watering them continually. I am forever grateful to them. This past year I realized that I don’t feel so alone anymore. My relationship with sport has forever changed, as I have now found belonging and purpose.
In the same way that I needed fun, support and belief in my goals, I want to create that space for young athletes, especially Black athletes. The positive impact of community, purposeful leadership and encouragement to persevere is significant. In recent years, I have realized that young athletes look up to me. Seeing Black athletes confide in me and being able to encourage and coach them as they strive for big goals is more fulfilling than I could have ever imagined. I have found fulfillment from track as an athlete and a coach. In addition to this, I am a co-founder the Black Student Athlete Association at USask, which seeks to create a supportive community for Black athletes. The presence of teammates and coaches of all backgrounds has helped me to develop and be more equipped to lead others.
Black History Month is meaningful to me because it is a time that we can celebrate Black excellence, remember changemakers and dreamers, and be empowered. Black history is happening right now, and I draw inspiration and strength from the people around me as we celebrate each other, uplift one another and put out names in history books.
I imagine that if I could have a conversation with my younger self about my athletics career, she would ask, “Are you winning?” I know without a doubt in my heart that I can say, “Yes.” I am winning because of love and joy that I share with Black athletes, coaches and my family. I am winning people believe in me and I get to take that belief and show it to others. I am wining because I am able to use the gift that God gave me, and I am blessed for the places it has taken me and the lessons I have learned.
I’m not sure if I would tell little Olamide that sometimes I haven’t won or what it means to lose. Because what once felt like losses, I now see as lessons. Each setback has allowed me to be vulnerable to people around me and learn develop humility, courage and resilience. I choose to win whenever I step in the weight room, attend a practice and struggle with jumping reps. The work that I put forth directly translates to a place on the podium, a personal best or a record. I am winning because I live in a time where I can share my story and listen to the stories of others.