The body-breaking journey: Bryan Clay

Bryan Clay felt like a noodle.

After two days of the most grueling competition, each one of his finely tuned muscles had been pulled, stretched, strained, and ultimately exhausted, like they had never been before.

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Inside Beijing's massive Bird's Nest stadium, all Clay had left in him was the power to lie down, his head resting on his bag. The U.S. decathlete put everything into the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, and he never gave up his lead.

But now there was one problem: he wasn't done. The 10th and final event-a 1,500 meter foot race-remained.

As Clay lay on his back, staring into the dark Beijing night sky, he looked over to his good friend, 2004 gold medalist and world-record holder Roman Sebrle from the Czech Republic.

"Roman,'' Clay told him, "I don't know if I'm going to be able to finish.''

"Trust me," Sebrle responded in broken English with his Russian accent. "I know exactly what you feel and where you're at, and you'll be fine."

"Roman, you don't understand," pleaded Clay, whose body was feeling punished. More than 90,000 people watched in pristine Beijing's National Stadium-the centerpiece of Beijing's extravagant Olympic Green. Clay just needed to stand up, walk to the starting line, and run three and three-fourths laps without letting second place Andrei Krauchanka Belarus beat him by more than about 68 seconds.

Clay would make it to that starting line, and he-barely-made it to the finish line. He was dead last in the race. But the American was fast enough.

On Friday, Aug. 22, 2008, Clay became Olympic champion. And despite essentially jogging the 1,500, his 240-point margin of victory was still the largest in the Olympic Games since Russian Nikolay Avilov won by more at the Munich 1972 Games.

"I didn't know (my score) until they put it on the Jumbotron there," Clay said from his home in Glendora, Calif. "I don't remember when that was; I don't even care! I just knew that I had won the gold medal."

Clay's body-breaking journey began one day before, with a distinctive American attitude.

Sure, when the 28-year-old rolled out of bed at the usual 5 a.m.-about 2 hours before the sound of the first gun-and saw rain, "dumping, like monsoon-style rain," his first thought was: As if decathlon isn't hard enough.

But as Clay left his rented Beijing apartment in last night's running clothes with teeth still unbrushed for his morning jog, he came to another realization.

"If anybody is going to compete better in the rain, I am going to," Clay says, his voice still sounding confident and motivated as he talks about the event, nearly one year later.

That competitiveness showed up at the Bird's Nest two hours later, as Clay lined up next to his opponents in the third heat of the 100-meter dash. Clay isn't one to talk trash on the track, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it.

"In my head going into that 100 meters, I said, 'I am going to crush everyone and let them know that I am right here to win this gold medal,'" Clay said. "That was my intention, to say 'I'm not fooling around, I want this medal more than you do.

"And I feel like that's what I did."

At 9:34 a.m. local time, the gun sounded for the third heat of the decathlon 100-meter dash; 10.44 seconds later, Clay crossed the finish line in first place.

"I wanted everybody to know that this is my medal," said Clay, the 2004 Athens Olympics silver medalist. "That's kind of how I went through the meet: This is mine."

Clay was in first place after the long jump, shot put, high jump and 400-meter dash. Then, after going to bed at nearly 2 a.m. and waking up again at 5 a.m., Clay was back on the track for Day 2, where he extended his lead through the 110-meter hurdles, discus throw and pole vault.

And then came the javelin.

Clay was gassed. To master 10 track & field events is no small feat. From the neck down to the ankle, each muscle in an elite decathlete's body is finely tuned to handle the rigors of sprinting, jumping, throwing and more. Injuries are common, as Clay knows all too well.

His bio is a mix between the biggest accolades-world champion, Olympic silver medalist-and the dreaded did not compete due to injury. This summer, when the best convene once again at the track and field world championships in Berlin, Clay will be missing due to a hamstring injury that kept him out of the national championships.

But at the 2008 Olympics, his body was miraculously in top condition, as strong as he could have ever asked for. Until the javelin, that is, the ninth of 10 events.

Clay threw once for 68.71 meters, an "OK throw, not terrible," Clay said. But now the first seven events were beginning to catch up to him. Clay's commando, take-charge attack through the first seven events, his adrenaline, was fading.

At this point, Clay only knew that he was leading, not that he already held a commanding 479-point lead over second place Krauchanka. So when his throws coach suggested Clay take his second of three throws-not taking all three would have been unthinkable for the Clay of events one through seven, now it was a struggle to even take two-Clay got up and walked to the line.

And then he threw.

"I backed up on the runway and said, 'this could be the last meet of my life, so if I blow my arm off, so be it,'" Clay said. "I ran down the runway and threw as hard as I could. (It was) not the most technical throw; but further than my last."

His elbow was numb. He couldn't even feel his fingers.

"I looked back and said 'I can't take another throw," Clay said. "(The coaches) said, 'You don't need to, you're fine.'"

Clay passed on his third throw. His second-70.97 meters; his "not the most technical throw"-was good enough for third in the javelin competition. Clay still didn't know the official scores, but not even the news that he had a 68-second cushion in the 1500, an event that usually lasts a little more than four and a half minutes, could boost his confidence going into the final event.

That's when Clay found himself on his back, striking a deal with his old friend Sebrle.

Sebrle, the reigning Olympic champion, looked Clay in the eye and continued to tell the American, "You will be OK."

Clay was starting to believe it when he found out that Sebrle, who was in the middle of the pack in the Beijing competition and unlikely to medal, was not going to compete in the 1,500.

"He kind of looked at me and kind of hemmed and hawed and was saying things under his breath," Clay said, "but finally said, 'OK, I'll run.'"

Sebrle did the best he could for Clay, leading his American friend around the track.

The capacity crowd in the Bird's Nest was already buzzing, as the only event after the decathlon 1,500 was the men's 4x100 relay, where Usain Bolt and his Jamaican relay team would aim for (and get) Bolt's third world record of the Games.

Clay wasn't sure he was going to make it to the end. After two laps drifting behind Sebrle, Clay decided to make his move. But the move didn't work. In fact, it backfired.

"I completely died," Clay says now. "Every step after the first two laps, it was like the realization, all of my dreams were about to come true. It was like I was trying to run faster but I just kept getting slower. I felt like I was running in water, not getting anywhere.

"Every step I took, it was getting further and further away."

Clay was in dead last as he ran down the stretch toward the finish line. When he crossed the white line in 5:06.59-only 39.12 seconds behind Krauchanka, who went all out-Clay fell to the ground in Lane 2 as Olympic Champion, the unofficial "World's Greatest Athlete."

 Clay couldn't believe what had happened. He went from last to first in the matter of seconds.

"(Finishing is) not what you think, it was just a huge amount of relief, a huge sigh of relief,'' Clay said. "I had been working at this for eight years and for it to finally come true is the most amazing thing in the world for me, and it was nice to have finally accomplished it."

When he finally managed to stand up, he walked and began his victory lap.

"The first person I saw was my wife," Clay said. "I broke down. My wife started crying, all I could say was 'I love you and I am so glad you are here.' "

Clay hugged her, gave her a quick kiss, and then went to see the rest of his entourage.

When Clay won the silver medal at the Athens 2004 Olympic Games, the two most important people in his life-his wife and mother-were not there to see it. Neither traveled out of fear for their safety in the post-9/11 world. Clay vowed that wouldn't happen again, and in Beijing his wife, mom, dad, stepdad, brother, high school coach, and a handful of others was there to see him.

As per tradition, Clay joined all of the decathlon finishers for the victory lap-a sign of respect amongst each other for finishing the grueling test. Soon afterward, he became one of only two athletes from Beijing to grace the Wheaties cereal box (The other was gymnastics champion Nastia Liukin).

One year later, the best part of Clay's incredible two-day rush to the gold medal is not the disc hanging around his neck, but sharing it with the ones who helped him reach it.

"To have all these people there with me, in my moment-and not just my moment-it will forever be stamped in my head," Clay said. "I don't know how to explain it, it was like, perfect. Everything was perfect. My wife was there, my parents were there, my brother was there, my high school coach was there, my coaching staff, it was like all these people who were dreaming with me were experiencing his dream come true, and that was as good as it could have gotten."

Story courtesy Red Line Editorial, Inc. Chrös McDougall is a freelance contributor for teamusa.org. This story was not subject to the approval of the United States Olympic Committee or any National Governing Bodies.

 NOTE: Bryan encourages all fans to follow his daily updates on his Facebook account or on Twitter (BryanClay) accounts.

Tags: 2008 Olympic Games, Amazing 8's, USA Track and Field