In the final days that led up to British track athlete, Keely Hodgkinson, preparing for the Paris 2024 Olympics, a difficult decision had to be made. If the decision had been made otherwise, perhaps the 22-year-old mightn’t have crossed the threshold in first place, earning her a gold medal. But the decision was hers, and it was one she didn’t make lightly: What nails would carry her through the biggest competition of her career to date?

Let us be frank. Choosing your next set of nails is no frivolous decision. After all, each nail harbours the responsibility to signify our identity. And while there is, of course, nothing quite so painful for an athlete than coming second place, there’s also something completely discouraging about having a pair of nails that you disassociate with. There was no alternative, therefore, for Keely––her Olympic set had to be as absolute as her race. No mistakes, no wrong decisions: perfect form.

As such, for one minute and 56 seconds in the 800 metre Olympic final this summer, Keely paraded the track of Stade de France with a lavender set, adorned with motifs of the Greek Goddess of Victory, namely Nike. Aptly created with the sporting conglomerate, the wreaths and wings imprinted onto her fingertips were merely foreshadowing what was to come. And every detail mattered. “They were purple, like the track, and the design was all geared up to me hopefully winning it. It was designed to be an incredible moment. And it really was.”

Rewind 24 hours. On the eve before the climax in her second Olympic tale, I watched Keely dance around the arena in a manner that’s seemingly hard to narrate. “It’s now or never,” she whispered to herself in the final, as an audience of 80,000 spectators were brought to immediate silence as she took her position. “But then it all turns into a blur,” she recounts. “You want to remember it, while not being distracted. I was really nervous, knowing that in two minutes time, I was going to run the biggest race of my life so far.”

There’s an exact methodology that leads up to these two minutes, though. And one that goes beyond years of training, or manicured cuticles. Call it dressing for magic, the routine of the medalled Brit as she assimilates into her lycra and spikes, isn’t all too dissimilar from a feeling we’ve all engaged in at some point or other. Sure, the pageantry of standing on a podium might feel like a foreign phenomenon to us aspirational joggers, but this preparatory operation is akin to one of the Briticisms that make up our proud nation: the art of getting ready for a night out.

Except rather than glad rags, it’s sports bras and breathable vests. “My brain now associates it with the process of getting ready for a race,” laughs the Mancunian, readying her version of a night on the tiles, just without the sticky lemonade spillages that glue your shoes to the dancefloor. “It’s a whole thing,” she assures me. “It takes around two hours, and that includes everything from taking a shower to walking out the front door. I need to curl my hair, do my make-up, and I try to tan and shave the night before, but if I haven’t had time, I’ve got to do it during the day,” and only real ones know the stress of a same-day tanning situ.

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