2025 World Championships Reflection
- Jack Edwards
- Sep 19, 2025
- 15 min read
Working with Rohan
I was fortunate enough to coach at this year’s World Athletics Championships as a personal coach for Rohan Browning, who was competing in the 100 m and 4 × 100 m relay. This was a strange circumstance for both of us as this coaching arrangement began (informally) on July 1 before officially becoming a coaching partnership just two weeks later. Even with eight weeks left before the world championships, given the full calendar ahead (including competition and travel around Europe, a flight back to Sydney, a pre-departure camp in Cairns, and then finally a camp and competition in Japan), there was little that I could do to manipulate the program and have an influence on the physical and technical components of Rohan’s preparation. There are components of the program which I did and didn’t like, but fundamentally I did not have a major issue in relinquishing control of the program and it not being “mine.” Rohan is an experienced world-class athlete who has spent over a decade developing brilliant sprinting technique with a world-class coach, competes extremely well, performed great at nationals and throughout Europe, and was in healthy shape. You cannot ask for much more favourable circumstances prior to a world championship event.
Therefore, without significant physical or technical factors to be changed in the program design, I saw my role primarily as providing strategic and psychological support and making it easier for him to navigate a world championship environment, as both the pre-departure camps and the event itself presented unique challenges. We had coffee daily, played a terrible round of golf in Cairns and held regular meetings to review the work that had been done and what was coming next. One session designed around the navigation of the world championships environment attempted to simulate the unique call-room setting at this year’s championships. Athletes had to compete 2.5 km away from the warm-up track and take a bus to the stadium (the warm-up track had been ripped up after the Olympics). The call room was 55 minutes before the start of the race, so after he completed a relay session in Cairns I had him suit up in his tracksuit and sit in the grandstand by himself for 15 minutes (to simulate the bus ride), before undertaking a short warm-up (as if he were under the stadium prior to the race) and then completing a competitive block session (as if it were his race). This was probably my favourite session we did. We both became actors—I was the bus driver in the grandstand and Rohan completely ignored anyone trying to talk to him on the track as they weren’t going to be there on race day—and this session was emblematic of the fact that we both contributed to a world championships campaign that was intentionally planned, but also fun, creative and enjoyable. Through our meetings and working on a plan together, even if we both wanted a better outcome from the world championships competition itself, neither of us felt as if there were any more stones to turn. This was a sentiment shared both before and after the competition.
At the stage I started coaching Rohan, even if he was physically in good shape, he was not in the best headspace, which is understandable as a change from a 13-year coaching relationship would be a significant shift in anyone’s life. The main perspective I asked him to adopt was to look at the opportunity ahead with gratitude. The hardest time to find gratitude is when you need it most, but I think both of us undergoing some personal hardships at the time meant we were able to bond through a struggle. We were able to enjoy the moment but also to look at the future ahead as both a great professional partnership and a reconnection of our friendship.
On the topic of the coaching change process, I believe it was handled incredibly by all parties involved. Andrew Murphy (Rohan’s former coach) was extremely supportive of both Rohan and myself in this change and this carried through to the World Championships campaign where Murph and I chatted regularly about coaching and life. I don’t know many people who would have been able to let that partnership go with so much support and guidance, which I’m incredibly grateful for. I’m sure that we’ll work in close proximity moving forward around NSWIS and Sydney Athletics, so we’ll all be staying in contact. Athletics Australia were also very supportive of me as a coach moving forward, assisting with funding towards travel and accommodation for both Cairns and Japan and making me feel included as an important member of the AA coaching staff. Scott Goodman, Andrew Faichney, Susan Krumins, Michael Perry and Craig Pickering were some of the staff who were kind in reaching out well in advance of the world champs and making sure I was sufficiently supported to help Rohan both for this season and beyond.
Rohan performed well in the early weeks of our partnership in Luxembourg and Fribourg (10.07 & 10.05). The only technical contribution I had to his preparation was around the blocks setup: shifting his shoulders over the line and reducing his first 10 m from eight strides to seven or seven and a half. The word “tension” really resonated with him and we built a race centred on building tension in the blocks and then creating a long, progressive build through acceleration, with Rohan’s visual of this akin to pedalling a bicycle. My thought process was that if he was looking for another 0.02–0.03 s, it would likely be found in an improvement in the first few steps of the race (assuming it didn’t have a negative influence on later stages). I primarily wanted to see a minimisation of flight time in block clearance and the first few steps, and greater horizontal projection, and I hoped that the setup of the blocks would facilitate this. I believe it did improve this phase of the race, but it was not a skill that had yet been stabilised both in isolation and within the context of a broader race model, so I was not convinced it would hold under the stress of an international competition. Perhaps this is how the race ultimately panned out—a fast start and a strong 40–50 m performance—but it came at the cost of the strategic model which would have him execute a more patient acceleration phase. This ultimately kicked him in the butt in the final 20m of the race.
Although I do not have any regrets, I do question whether I complicated one of the biggest races of his life. In saying that, I was brought in to coach and I tried to be as simple as possible. I’ll attach a screenshot of my coaching notes which I wrote up while in a wine bar the night before (shout-out to Yu, the bartender at Music Bar Makani around the corner from where I was staying—he was my spiritual guide for a few days). I think I was so excited by the race to come that I wanted to understand the philosophical underpinnings of my messaging to Rohan, which were:
To approach the moment with gratitude and clarity — Gratitude & Clarity ≈ Eudaimonic Action (Aristotle’s eudaimonia; Stoic presence)
To own his moment when the time comes to compete (own your lane, not to be rushed; to be patient in setting up blocks and to feel the pressure of the blocks prior to competition) — Owning the Moment ≈ Acting from Self-Determined Duty (Kant’s autonomy); Patient Set-Up ≈ Fidelity to Inner Framework (positive psychology)
The goal of this messaging (not the philosophy part) was to create a clear head, free of technical cues, and to ensure that he could just react and run. It was fun to see where my mind went under stress—philosophy research was unnecessary but it helped me understand the psychological direction I was trying to guide Rohan towards.
It was unfortunate to not make the semi-finals, as Rohan ran faster than 6 of the 24 semi-finalists. This is the nature of the sport and rather than living in self-pity, all it does is makes me want to be better as a coach to ensure that we are not in the position again moving forward.
Once we were able to train together in Sydney, we completed three track sessions (two acceleration and one speed). Dr Mike and I used the opportunity to collect data in the first 10 m and during 60 m and 80 m sprints—mostly to inform decisions for next year rather than to influence current training design. This was a great vibe and has me excited to see what the future holds.
There’s pressure on us both to perform at a record-breaking level next season. If there were any “themes” I could share about what I envision for next year’s preparation, it would be a return to the basics—strength and work capacity—as I believe the rigorous schedule of four consecutive major championships has put significant pressure on athletes to operate at high-intensity training modalities all year round. This comes at the cost of developing general athletic qualities as preseasons become truncated. A dense block of work through the summer months aimed at structural changes (increased muscle, metabolic adaptations), with a focus on strength, acceleration and aerobic development, will be essential to reap rewards through a tough logistical schedule in April and May (Nationals, World Relays in Botswana, Oceania in Darwin), and to set up a European racing schedule including the Commonwealth Games in July. I’m excited for what the future holds.
Cairns Pre-Departure Camp
Ok, enough about Rohan. Prior to the world championships, a large portion of the Australian Athletics team attended a pre-departure camp up in Cairns. I was there for a week while others stayed longer if their events were later in the schedule. This was a fantastic opportunity to connect with the Australian Athletics ecosystem and with other coaches from around Australia. Luckily, just by chance, I was rooming with Chris Dale, who I’ve been talking with daily for the last two years. I don’t think I’ve talked about athletics as much as I did during that week in Cairns. I’ll do my best to summarise some standout thoughts from these conversations.
Prior to the camp, most conversations I have with other coaches revolve around X’s and O’s—methodology and philosophy. This was not a part of many of the conversations I had in Cairns. We talked a lot about psychology, and I think this is appropriate given the stage of the preparation many athletes are in during this camp. One of my most memorable conversations was with John Nicolousi (sprints coach based in Melbourne). Athletes need the psychology of a killer. How do we help facilitate this as coaches through behavioural conditioning (requiring high professional standards in communication and punctuality, or creating competitive training environments)? How much is developed long before we meet the athlete (through relationships with parents or key moments during childhood)? John leaves no stone unturned—he has even tried to research the physiology of belief. He is a high-functioning operator who wants Australian athletics to operate as a high-performance environment, and part of this is using opportunities such as camps for coaching collaboration and professional development. Once this was said, I proposed to him that we organise something ourselves with an open invite to coaches at camp—which we ultimately did. We expected three or four coaches to come, but to our surprise, all coaches attended this symposium. I’m not sure how much others got out of it, but from my new-to-coaching perspective, hearing from the people I’m about to mention below offered a lot of insight and suggested a positive direction for Australian coaches to work together and share ideas.
The topic for the symposium was: As coaches, when we run into a challenge, we often have two choices: zoom out to rethink the big picture, or zoom in to tweak the smallest detail. Which lens do you naturally go to first, and why?
Mike Barber, a world championship gold-medal coach in the javelin, answered this clearly. For this year’s championships he was coaching in the throws and also in the high jump. He shared an anecdote of working with a high jumper whose goal was to make the final and enjoy the process. This athlete shows immense promise but has a history of anterior knee pain (very common in jumps) that may have disrupted performance at previous majors. Mike’s process was a textbook “zoom out”: teach the athlete how to run and resolve functional strength deficits so they could then do what they do best—jump high. The solution ultimately had little to do with high jump itself. It was a joy to see this athlete make the final knowing how the problem was solved.
Dick Telford, coach of Cameron Myers and the first sports scientist employed by the AIS, was also dropping bombs. I didn’t know Dick was 80. He played VFL for Fitzroy and Collingwood in the 1960s, then became a sports scientist. He speaks with immense humility and grace—at one point (paraphrasing): “I have limitations as I do not know what is happening during training… at the molecular level.” He also goes for two runs a day. Dick warned about the dangers of a “zoom-in” approach that orbits a single variable, as current trends in middle-distance become increasingly obsessed with lactate monitoring to guide all decisions. Training influences a vast number of systems, and a simplified, broad approach is beneficial. John followed up: “Do you think you’ve come to this conclusion after decades of scientific and coaching rigour—as if the path to simplicity must pass through a Dunning–Kruger timeline?” Dick replied, “No, running is simple.” I loved that moment.
Every coach offers something different, which is good because athletes need different things to perform at the highest level. I enjoyed observing the dynamics between coaches. They all made sense. Whether it was an “opposites attract” or “birds of a feather” dynamic, they made sense. I spoke a fair bit with Brett Robinson, who runs Viking Athletics on the Gold Coast. He does incredible work in track, beach sprints, pro running, pro sport environments and schools. He probably has the largest and most comprehensive speed-development business in the country. Robbo is calm, not loudly spoken, yet he coaches Ellie Beer, the most radiant ray of Gold Coast sunshine I’ve ever met. Likewise, John, a sharp and sometimes abrasive character, coaches Mia Gross, who—similar to Ellie—is a smiley ball of positive energy. These two coaching dynamics operate in a kind of yin/yang harmony. On the flipside, Chris and Reece Holder share a similar demure energy—a silent-killer mentality. Despite one being a Jesus-haired, bearded science geek (Chris) and the other a behemoth, dripped-up man with Trinidadian blood, they’re undoubtedly on the same level. The common factor is mutual respect and accountability; both coach and athlete are extremely competitive about getting better. Some coaches take immense pride in a scientific approach; others excel in social and psychological support. The point is: no coach is inherently better or worse. The athlete ultimately drives the journey, and the “best” coach for them varies person to person. Also, coaches are just people. As much as I admire those who operate at an elite level, they’re usually very normal and approachable.
A cultural meeting with Kyle Vander Kuyp was a highlight. He and Murph told great stories of breaking through to world championship finals—a difficult journey. Kyle also spoke about his upbringing as an adopted Indigenous man who later connected with his biological mother near the end of his athletic career. These conversations matter because they invite reflection: What does it mean to represent Australia? A big part is knowing who you are, where you’ve come from and what you want—knowledge that empowers behaviour. It’s also important to know others’ stories, including Indigenous perspectives. Local Indigenous artists shared artefacts and talked about their connection to the land around Cairns. Understanding what it means to represent Australia (or to be Aussie) is something I’ve wrestled with. Through reflection, and when listening to Indigenous leaders speak about connection to country, although I’m not Indigenous myself, many elements resonate and fill me with gratitude. I tend to be my best self in the landscapes of my childhood or where my grandparents lived (rural NSW). From this, I have pride as an Aussie—to be born in a lucky country cared for over tens of thousands of years by its First Peoples. One of the artists carved a coolamon as a gift for the team and left us with a powerful sentiment: look after the land we live on.
Pre-departure camps can be draining in ways you don’t expect. You’re always “on.” For me, that meant putting myself out there socially and professionally. For athletes, particularly those new to this environment, the combination of training and constant connection can drain energy as the week goes on. Those who navigated it best set boundaries and allowed time alone to rest—even if it meant boredom.
Every night, Chris Dale and I debriefed what we’d learned. If Chris wasn’t there, coaching in that environment wouldn’t have been as good as it was, and I’m very grateful. As he’s a perfectionist realist, I think my blind positivity rubbed off on him in a good way—and in turn he continues to teach me a lot in science and high-performance coaching.
The World Championships
The Aussie team flew into Tokyo but were based in Chiba for training, roughly 1.5 hours east of Tokyo. We completed final preparations there; for Rohan, a short block session. It went great and the facilities were fantastic. A few days before competition, athletes were transported to the athlete hotel in Tokyo where all 197 countries were staying in one location. I stayed by myself in a hotel in Shinjuku. When we first arrived in Tokyo, I joined Kurtis Marschall and Rohan at a Puma sponsorship event—a great insight into shoe endorsements and brand partnerships. It was also surreal being in the same room as Julien Alfred and Shericka Jackson. The next day was a stadium tour of the National Stadium; the day after that was game day.
Below are my final insights from the event:
One of my favourite parts of track and field is that it is truly global. While waiting for accreditation I had the Nigerian coaches to my left and the Greek coaches to my right. When I was hurrying to the main stadium after Rohan went into the call room, I helped Botswana’s 400 m coaches navigate as the Japanese staff and the Botswana coaches were struggling to communicate. In the stands, I bumped into Puripol Boonson’s coach (Thailand) and we grabbed a selfie. The row in front of me was the French team; two rows ahead were the Jamaicans—great seats to watch Jimmy Gressier win the 10 000 m and Oblique Seville and Kishane Thompson go 1–2 in the 100 m. It’s beautiful to see how different cultures do sport.
From my experience—at least in the sprints—two national teams stood out:
Netherlands, led by Laurent Meuwly: meticulous, team-first organisation.
Jamaica, with private clubs like MVP Track Club (head coach Paul Francis; athletes include Kishane Thompson and Tia Clayton) and Racers Track Club (head coach Glen Mills; currently coaching Oblique Seville): relaxed unity with purpose.
Both had strong “team-first” cultures. Laurent paced the warm-up track for hours helping athletes prepare, while “Franno” sat on the nearby bleachers with reggae pulsing. Responsibilities were clearly delegated so athletes made the call room on time and everyone was looked after. The Dutch warmed up together in the pre-meet warm up, opening with relay stick passing for ~800 m. The Jamaicans vibed near the start line with jokes and tunes. Australia’s decentralised model and geography make this harder, but I think we can foster a stronger team identity at the warm-up track—especially since many athletes travel without personal coaches and the environment can be intimidating. Establishing shared values (including team-first) through the camp would help. This idea of “team identity” was a big theme in my conversations with John in Cairns. The Dutch and Jamaican athletes were relaxed and professional in preparation, and it’s no surprise they had success.
Walking around the track and team hotel, you see the world’s best. Some look like aliens in physique and ability. I happened to be in the bathroom at the same time as Rai Benjamin, shirt off, dripping in sweat—his legs are up to my chest. Seeing Valarie Allman and her coach in the hotel redefined “jacked” for me. Listening to Tia Clayton do block starts was wild—I haven’t seen or heard any athlete male or female express power like that. And yet I saw no “performance hack” or unseen innovation. The best relied on fundamentals and calm demeanour. Warm-ups were simple: walk, jog, stretch, skip, drills, run-throughs and a few high-intent block starts. Before the heats, I watched Oblique Seville do maybe 6 × 20 m of the laziest-looking A-skips you’ll ever see, then a few run-throughs in flats and some blocks in spikes. There are no secrets here—athletes and coaches need to control emotions and execute their process.
The above athletes are “freaks” of the sport. Every athlete at these championships is incredible, but most are not “freaks.” Their anthropometry may be unremarkable; perhaps their physique impresses more than their technical model, or vice versa. From what I saw, many of these non-freak athletes—some of whom still made finals—do a fantastic job minimising deficiencies and executing under pressure. They’ve also clearly worked incredibly hard to be there. More people have the potential to perform at higher levels than they think. If you’re a young sprinter, don’t be intimidated by sharing the track with them.
A few quick-fire reflections to finish:
The most impressive warm-ups I saw: Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone (incredibly efficient and smooth—hard to describe), Tia Clayton (power), Sha’Carri Richardson (I’ve never seen limbs move with that much staccato), Kishane Thompson (shredded head to toe—caught a glimpse of his abs and it was terrifying).
All sprinters need huge glutes. If you aren’t born with them, build them. The structural make-up of sprinters is well researched—use it and “build” sprinters from the ass up to give them a chance to accelerate efficiently.
The acceleration of the finalists stood out technically—more forward in posture and projection than I’d imagined.
World championships are designed to separate the boys from the men. So many added elements: logistics, diet changes, humidity, language barriers. Athletes who navigate these micro-inconveniences (and to be fair, Japan makes most things easy—as Steven Adams once said, “This is not Syria, mate”) give themselves the best chance to perform.
If you want to compete at championship events, this must be reflected in training design.
Thanks for reading. This was a life-changing opportunity. Thank you to all who helped make it happen—mostly to my wife, who allows me to chase a dream.












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