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over the game when we were in our caravan, so the French neighbours must have wondered what the noise was in the evenings.
    As a family we are all very proud of each other and what we have achieved. All of us children have done well. My brother is a surveyor, my sister is a teacher in Dubai and my other sister has worked on a private yacht. We’re a very international family, too. I’m obviously used to travelling the world to compete in athletics, but my sisters have also found success abroad. Thanks to Mum and Dad, we have international tastes in food, as we were brought up to try out food from different countries. I’ve followed this tradition with my children and they aren’t afraid to try any foods abroad.
    People have asked whether I have ever wanted to trace my birth family. I say that my mum and dad are my mum and dad. I’ve never been interested in finding anyone else . My mum has been my mum as long as I have been aware, as I was hers from the age of three months. I know I was born in Nottingham, which is difficult for me as a very patriotic Welshman! And I know my dad was Jamaican and my mum was British. But I’ve never wanted to look beyond the wonderful family I have, because they are the only family I’ve known and they have given me the most amazing life. We don’t look like each other, but they love me and I love them. They brought me up and they are my mum and dad. Why would I look for anything else? What would I be looking for? I’ve got all the answers I need. I have all the love and care of parents who chose to have me. I couldn’t have been luckier.
    As I have grown older, I think of my biological mum as someone who had to make a tough decision to have me, when she could have chosen not to, and I am thankful she made that choice. For me that’s where it starts and finishes.

Chapter Two
Finding my Feet
    When I look back at my sporting schooldays, I was one of the best in school and I always really enjoyed taking part, but I was never the best. However, in athletics, from a young age, in running terms, I was pretty good. When I was about nine or ten years old, I was so much faster than everyone in my year. I could go up to the next year group to compete and still beat them, which doesn’t happen often in schools, because at that age children get so much bigger and stronger in a year. I remember the day it all started to happen for me. It was a Sports Day in Henllys School, Cwmbrân, and I was ten years old and really enjoying myself doing an event called the obstacle race. You had to run with an egg and spoon for ten metres, go over a long wooden bench for another five metres, then get in a sack and jump in the sack for ten metres. Finally, you had to go underneath a mattress before sprinting for the finish. The race started and everyone was cheering. I set off running with the egg and spoon, went over the bench, jumped into the sack, went underneath the mattress and I ended up coming out at the side, not at the front as I was supposed to. The headmaster stuck firmly, and rightly, to the rules, and said, “You’ve got to go back to the start, Jamie.” So I went all the way back to the start, picked up the egg and spoon, went over the bench, jumped into the sack, went underneath the mattress, sprinted to the finish and won the race! I was twice as fast as the others, and that’s when I really believe I started my athletics! I remember being determined to catch up and win, so I did. I wanted to be the fastest and I wanted to win.
    Luckily for me, my headmaster, Mr Atkins, was a runner from Newport and he trained with Newport Harriers. He convinced me that I had a talent and suggested I join a club. So the following week, I went down with my mum and my granddad on a Tuesday night to the club to enrol. Even though I was young, I knew that this was something I really wanted to do. I trained that night, and I trained again on the following