It’s an art form – Callum Wilkinson is past caring about race walking detractors

Suffolk athlete Callum Wilkinson has given up attempting to explain what he agrees might be the most misunderstood sport at the Olympic Games.

It is one that demands the nondescript artistry of a seasoned film extra, the tactical mind of a chess champion and the fortitude of a marathon runner, yet Wilkinson often finds his discipline treated like the black sheep of the athletics family.

So while its name might conjure up the determined gait of someone late to the office, the plain truth of the matter is that race walking is very, very hard.

“It’s hugely under respected,” says Wilkinson, who on Thursday morning will take on a gruelling 20-kilometre competition at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the first athletics event on the Paris Olympic programme.

“There are negative comments about it and I kind of leave them completely alone because it’s very hard to explain to someone the level of training, the commitment.

“You train as hard as anyone in the athletics community. You’re up there with the marathon runners in training time, time spent away from family, and then add in technique and concentration. For an hour and 20 minutes, you have to be dialled in focus. A two-minute slip-up and you’re out of the race.

“I know for a fact that an athlete from GB at the European indoors liked a comment saying, ‘what a stupid event’. Then you see them competing, team-mates.

“I could really fight for it, but I don’t think there’s much point in trying to explain to someone that’s going to fire away a throwaway comment on social media.”

Race walking can be traced back to the 17th and 18th centuries, when competitors were footmen employed to hustle alongside the coaches of masters, who would bet on their abilities.

It was eventually codified, debuting as a men-only Olympic event at the 1904 Games in St Louis as a half-mile race, part of the 10-event ‘all-around championship’ – an early ancestor of the decathlon.

The 20km race walk has been a men’s Olympic event since 1956 and since the 2000 games in Sydney for women, who competed at half that distance beginning at Barcelona 1992. New in Paris is a mixed relay.

A 50km men’s version featured for the final time three summers ago in Tokyo, where Wilkinson came tenth at the 20km distance.

The wry athlete says his competitive focus is so intense that he will take a moment to appreciate the Eiffel Tower at the start line before he completely stops registering the Iron Lady and the scenic course – until he poses for a “nice profile picture” at the finish.

Race walking is bound by strict rules. Athletes must have one foot in contact with the floor at all times, and their advancing leg must straighten from the point it touches the ground until it passes under the body – differentiating the movement from running.

Competitors try to push the limits of protocol, but remain at constant risk of disqualification by a series of eagle-eyed judges who raise yellow paddles for penalties –  three from different officials and you are out.

The winner is the athlete whose torso crosses the finish line first.

“I think it’s probably closer to an art form,” says Wilkinson, who at June’s national championships in Manchester smashed the British 10km record in 38:43.91, a feat made more significant by the fact that, four months prior, the 27-year-old suffered a freak injury his specialist ankle surgeon said he had only ever seen three times, and never in athletics.

“It maybe should have comparisons to dressage. It’s an appearance. The judges are looking for a flow across the ground, an effortlessness.

“I wore shades in Manchester because I didn’t want people to see how hard it was. If it’s pouring rain in Paris, I’ll be wearing my sunglasses. It hides the effort and every strain and sinew that you’re pushing through this.

“It’s a sport of blending in. If you’re the one that stands out, whether that’s the colour of your shoes or your hair, the judges will notice, but then when you have the time to celebrate, you can stand out.”

If there is one advantage of the disrespect and lack of fanfare – or sponsors – Wilkinson’s sport gets, he suggests it is that “it probably suits my character, as an underdog that’s going to fight for something against the odds.

“I’d have to change my whole setup if I became the favourite because I think I’d have to think everyone was against us, even if they weren’t.”