I always knew how lucky I was to be in that race.  I knew I was given an amazing opportunity and that I was infinitely fortunate to be lined up in that event, on August 25 2007, in Osaka, Japan.  I have known this for years and have always only remembered that day with fond memories and a deep gratitude.  So it feels confusing that now this memory has been a bit tarnished.

It was a very hot night in Osaka.  It was in the high 80s and the humidity was over 90%.  As we lined up for the 10,000m in Nagai Stadium, I had no idea what my future would hold.  On paper I only had the 15th or 16th fastest time, but I knew that I was fit.  I knew that the weather would affect some athletes more than others.  I knew that if I stayed calm and relaxed that I would have the opportunity to beat people much more accomplished than me.  At the time my PR for the 5000m was 15:07.  I had watched Jo Pavey run 14:39 in Brussels the year before, and she wasn’t even the fastest person entered.  Bottom line, I knew I was a bit out of my league, but I knew I was a good racer and that I was the fittest I had ever been in my life.

The race began very slowly.  The overwhelming pre-race favorite, Tirunesh Dibaba, wasn’t feeling well and everyone was keying off her.  We went through the halfway point in 16:31.  That is very slow.  For reference, a year later I would go through the halfway point at the Olympic Games in 15:18 in nearly last place.  As the race churned on people began to fade in the heat.  The longer I was in the lead pack, the more that my confidence grew.  We didn’t really start racing until we hit 7000m, and Dibaba and Elvan Abeylegesse took off.  I led a pack of 3 myself, Jo Pavey, and Kim Smith to battle out the final laps together.  With 2 laps to go of our 25 lap race, Jo and Kim passed me.  I was now in 5th.  I distinctly remember thinking, “5th in the world is really good.  No one expected you to finish this high.”  But with a lap to go I started asking myself, “Kara, are you going all out?  I know you are tired and exhausted, but one of you is going home with a medal and that person’s life will change forever.  You have to make sure that you did everything you could!”  I decided that I would sprint by Jo with 200m to go.  I would pump my arms and try to make it look like I was feeling strong and that I was not to be challenged.  As I ran down the home straight and finished in 3rd, I celebrated by throwing my arms in the air.  I could not believe this was happening.  I could not believe that I just placed 3rd in the world.

My life was a whirlwind after that performance.  I had endless interviews and stories written about me, I graced my first magazine cover.  I started to get paid really well.  I could get into any race that I wanted to run, and not only that, I was given an appearance fee.  People in the running world knew who I was.  I was no longer Adam’s wife, but a distinguished athlete on my own.  It was all positive, and it was amazing.  This one race, this one moment of crossing the line in 3rd, had opened endless doors and opportunity.  And I was so thankful.  I knew that I wasn’t the 3rd most talented runner in the world.  I knew that it was the slowest 10,000m in championship history; I ran 32:02 to win the bronze, while one year later at the Olympics, Shalane Flanagan would run 30:22 to win bronze.  I knew that I was so extremely lucky to be in that race, on that night, in that moment.  It was one of the fondest memories I had.

So in August 2015 when I got word that Abeylegesse was caught for the steroid Stanozolol in the retest of drug testing samples from Osaka, I was shocked.  I was going through a very public battle with my ex-coach at the time and I was totally overwhelmed with it all.  Learning that I was going to become silver medalist was hard to wrap my head around.  I called my family and we all cried.  I couldn’t believe it.  It gave me so much hope, that even 8 years after the fact people could still get caught.  That people cared enough to look into our event.  I felt lifted in a way I hadn't in years.

But as time went on I started to feel sad and frustrated.  No one from the IAAF (International Association of Athletics Federations) or USATF (USA Track and Field) ever reached out to me.  I  still have yet to be formally informed that I am moving up in the medal count, and I started to feel conflicted.  Unlike Jo Pavey, or my fellow compatriot Alysia Montano (who could receive an unbelievable 4 retroactive medals in the 800m), I did get to stand on that awards stand.  Unlike Adam Nelson who learned he was Olympic Champion 8 years after the fact, I wasn’t moving into first place.  I got to stand on the podium, I still had great opportunity given to me.  But I still felt irritated.

The part that is difficult for me is that I have only ever looked at that race as a blessing in my life.  I haven’t run nearly as fast as the runners I line up against in major international competitions.  But I am a good technical racer and I am scrappy.  I knew that race in Osaka was an incredible opportunity that I seized.  But because of that I never truly dreamed of being the very best.  I always saw myself as so lucky and that I would train for another opportunity like that.  But I never truly believed I could be the best in the world.  Had the only thing standing between me and the gold medal been one of the greatest distance runners in the history of the world, perhaps I would have viewed myself less as lucky and more as the one to beat.  As a person who has always struggled with confidence, that one place closer to greatness would have helped me so much.  Now 10 years later, it’s tough to find out that the greatest accomplishment of my running career was even greater.  And I’ll never be able to rewind time and reap the benefit of that.

So it leaves me with a weird feeling.  Trust me, I want that medal.  I know I’ll never recoup the prize money, sponsor bonus, or future appearance fee increases, but I do want to hold that medal in my hands.  I also want to shake this feeling of sadness when I remember Osaka.  It was a magical experience for me.  As frustrated as I am, I did get to stand on that podium, and feel that medal in my hands on the worlds biggest stage.  In the end, I am still so grateful for that experience and I don’t want that memory to be tarnished in my mind.  I would love it if the IAAF and USATF would tell me that I am the silver medalist, and award me the medal I deserve.  That way I can move on from being frustrated to finding the joy in that experience again.