My Sporting Life is The i Paper’s look behind the curtain at what drives sports stars to greatness. This week, Olympic silver medallist and former world record holder in the 110 metres hurdles Colin Jackson discusses the defining moments and life choices that have shaped his remarkable career.

I thought I’d be an electrician, not an athlete

I was training to be an electrician because I saw my uncles being electricians and they were having good lives. I was thinking, “Well, I wouldn’t mind a little bit of a good life”.

And I never thought a sport being possible as a career, because I’d never seen it before at close quarters. Even when I was speaking to my coach growing up, who had coached many Olympic champions, world record holders before myself, he was always adamant that you have something to fall back on.

But I started becoming quite good quite early, and that was my good fortune. Things started to fall in place quite early, and my parents were supportive.

I had the best parents. When I first went professional, I had to ask them, because I wasn’t working, and they would give me deadlines that people said were quite severe. They were like, “If you make it by 21, great; if you haven’t made it by 21, don’t worry, just go back to university, and then start your life from 21 instead of starting at 18”. Fortunately, at 21 I won Olympic silver so we were alright!

The butcher used to give me extra steak to run fast

When I started to break through, I was only a little skinny kid with an afro, and I was in the local papers for what I was doing in school athletics, so the local butcher knew about me. And he would absolutely tell me, “This is your steak for you, and I need you to have it the day of the competition, and a good steak and eggs will set you off perfectly well”. That was nutrition in those days!

But, of course, when he would be saying that, and I’m 14, 15, looking at my mother, going, “You have to cook me steak and eggs like at 9 o’clock in the morning”, which I don’t think my mother appreciated…

Even though I’m born here, and I’m very much Welsh first, then I’m British, and then I’ve got that Jamaican tinge, you’re brought up as a Jamaican: I only ate Jamaican food growing up, I only had that patois language around me, because that’s where my parents were from, so you’re just who they are, right?

So Don Quarrie was one of my heroes growing up, because he was a great sprinter – Olympic champion, world record holder – but first of all, he was Jamaican.

And when I was nine, I saw my parents’ reaction to him being successful. When he was Olympic champion in the 200m, I saw how elated they were. When he missed the 100m title, and ended up with a silver, how disappointed they were for him. And I’m thinking, “Oh God, that’d be great if they could be like that for me, but I don’t think that will ever happen, because I’m never going to do this.”

I was too scared of pole vault to be a decathlete

My other hero was Daley Thompson, because he was the British version of everything who I thought I wanted to be. He was a cheeky chap, he was successful, he was Black, he was celebrated in a positive manner. I love the fact, even though he had his faults, and boy, oh boy, did he have his faults, he still was loved by people, and he was loved for those faults. And that kind of gave me a belief that I could be loved for my faults – if I have them…

So, when Daley came on the scene and was celebrated for his success, I just thought I’d have a go at it. I was a good javelin thrower, high jumper, long jumper, the only thing I couldn’t do is pole vault, and that cut my decathlete career quickly. It was too scary, and I wasn’t willing to work at it, because I was good enough at other events.

The happiest day in my career was the day I retired

I remember saying to my mother, “Mam, do you know what? I will never be angry again,” because athletics is the only thing I love so much, but also hated so much, that it would really evoke those emotions deep into you. So I knew once I’d retired, I would be the happiest person on this planet.

And I retired because I was bored. I knew I wasn’t getting any younger. Doing another Olympic cycle? You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d be pushing 40, and what was I going to achieve? Oh, well done, you’re the oldest 110m hurdle finalist ever. Well, what does that mean?

My body was in good state. I think I was still ranked number three in the world when I retired, so I was okay, but when your mind’s not on it, it’s quite difficult for your body to function at that level.

I’m glad I came out – but I won’t be on a Pride float with my top off

Coming out as gay in 2017 wasn’t a big deal for me, I wasn’t even thinking about it. And when it all broke, I was in Switzerland at the time and all my friends rang me saying “Oh God, you’re going to be so busy next June. Now you’ve actually come out, everybody’s gonna invite you to every Pride event around, you’ll be rainbow head to toe”. And I just wet myself laughing.

I may wear a couple of socks now and again, but I told them I won’t be on anybody’s float with my top off. So they kind of just laughed and giggled about it.

It was lovely though, because of the messages that I got from young athletes saying that it was a huge moment for them. When it’s you, you don’t think anything of it, but when you have an effect on younger people who are going through stuff, then you can have that sense of genuine pride.

You just give them belief that this world isn’t a bad place, you can be a winner, you can get to the top of your game, and people will like you. Just because I came out, people didn’t just stop liking me.

I hope I’m still relevant

People always say to me, “You had your athletics career, but you’re still relevant’.”

What does that mean? Am I still me? Am I still trying to give out strong messages on things I believe in? Is it about me just being a decent human being?

If that makes me relevant, then yeah, I’m relevant.

Colin is supporting SPAR’s Everyday Champions campaign to celebrate people who make life better for others through everyday acts of kindness