10 years on – Murray Goodwin reflects on a life changing win

Date: 15th April 2025

A LOOK BACK TO THE RACE THAT CHANGED MY LIFE

by MURRAY GOODWIN
The win at Stawell in 2015 was, without a doubt, the most life-changing experience of my professional and sporting career. That single race shifted the trajectory of my life. Off the back of that season and victory, I not only gained an immensely deeper understanding of myself – flaws and all – but also developed a self-belief that completely changed my idea of what was possible in the years ahead.

Before it all, I’d spent 10 years away from athletics, focused on full-time teaching, embracing the Gold Coast lifestyle, and mixing up my fitness routine with fairly aimless gym sessions and various social sports. During that time, I often watched those I’d grown up competing against achieving big things—national titles, international teams, success on the world stage. And there’s no doubt I felt a strong sense of personal reflection and regret that I’d never taken my own somewhat successful school sporting journey any further.

When I finally turned up at Pizzey Park athletics track in 2014, I was out of shape and out of ideas. I had no real reason to be there—no big comeback plan, no burning desire to prove anything. But through fate, luck, or otherwise, a coach by the name of Brett Robinson happened to be there that afternoon, putting a young Vikings squad through their paces. He didn’t know me, and I certainly wasn’t anyone worth knowing at the time. But for some reason, he saw something in me that sparked his interest.

And as history would have it, 12 months of limp-down-the-stairs-every-morning type hard work and sacrifice later – fighting off the daily doubts, the imposter syndrome, the mind games – I somehow found myself standing in the centre of Central Park, lining up for a Stawell Gift final.

In many ways, I got to that occasion before I was ready – no big race experience, a completely new event, fewer than a handful of VAL appearances, and no real idea how intense the pressure of the day itself would be. The sense of occasion truly became both formidable and exhilarating. There was simply no escaping the fact that this was my one and only shot to make a mark on the event, to write myself into that 134-year-old history book.

And as those thoughts churned through my mind, the slowest 48 hours of my life dragged by, waiting for Monday to roll around.

To this day, I still can’t recall anything from the moment I got back to the change room after the semi-final to hearing Maurice bellow, “Walk to your blocks” almost two hours later. Time completely erased itself, only stories from teammates fill in the blanks. It was the closest I’ve ever come to a pure in-the-zone and out-of-body experience.

Then the moment came.

I heard the echoing “Set” ring out through a pin-drop silent crowd, and I knew that 12 seconds later, I’d find out what the sporting gods had decided.

The Race

I knew my start wasn’t perfect – training next to Mitch Swain all season had made sure I understood that – but I also knew that if I could stay in touch at halfway, I’d make my presence felt in the back end of the race. I got out fair—nothing flashy—but I did my job. I stayed patient and didn’t lose too much ground.

At top speed by halfway, the six of us were nearly in a straight line across the track, barely a metre separating first from last.

Then something clicked.

A steeliness kicked in. I gritted my teeth, locked eyes with the finishing chute, and convinced myself it was now or never. Fight or flight. Some sort of primal, kill-or-be-killed, who-dares-wins mentality. No second-guessing. No hesitation. Just go.

For the briefest of moments, I felt invincible.

I was moving as fast as I ever had. At that speed, everything just tunnels in—even the lane ropes blur, and you’re locked in a bubble where the only thing you can hear is your own footsteps and breath.

With 30 metres to go, I hit the front and knew I just had to hold my form.

I did.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

The Aftermath

That final dip at the line. The split-second of disbelief. The slow-motion realisation of a job done.

Coach and squad charging from every angle.

A guttural roar of celebration.

An embrace that felt like it lasted forever.

I relive those moments every time I walk through those gates, like it happened yesterday. They never leave you.

In the years that followed, I was lucky enough to experience some incredible moments: a World Championships, a Commonwealth Games, World Relays, an Australian 400m title, an Oceania 400m title, an Australian Mixed 4x400m record, a Continental Cup bronze, and even a Hamish and Andy “Race That Stops a Nation” Cup.

None of it would’ve been possible if it weren’t for that extraordinary Easter Monday in Stawell.

The Gift and Its Legacy

To this day, I still struggle to put into words what it means to have my name etched into the history of the Stawell Gift. To be forever linked with the champions who came before me – some of the most remarkable sprinters this country has ever seen – is an honour and a privilege I don’t take lightly.

The names in that history book tell the story of a race that has shaped careers, changed lives, and captured the imagination of athletes and fans alike for over a century. To stand alongside them as a Stawell winner is something I will always cherish.

To that, I can’t thank everyone involved in the Gift and the VAL enough, the people who make it such an incredible event. It grows every year, as do the stories and memories. I’m truly excited for what the future holds for the Gift. Who knows? This time next year, we might be looking at the name Gout, Kennedy, or Rizzo in the Hall of Fame – those chapters are still to be written in the coming days.

To close, I owe everything to my coach, Brett Robinson, and the Vikings squad for their unwavering belief in me throughout that season and in the years following. It takes an enormous team effort to get an athlete to a start line in the right mental and physical space, and no one successfully walks that path alone.

To this day, the Vikings remain an enormous part of my life – a second family if you will – and it’s been incredible to see the next generation of stars emerge and prosper. The legacy Brett has left on the Gift with Mitchell Williams-Swain, Matt Rizzo, Elizabeth Forsyth, Carla Bull, and Chloe Mannix-Power is undeniable.

To everyone who loves the Gift, may it continue to hold a special place in our hearts. 

And to those chasing their own Stawell moment – impossible is nothing.

Dream big and fearlessly.

Regards,

Murray

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