Noah Lyles paced at the far end of the track in Saint-Denis, France, hands folded over his head, anxiously awaiting the scoreboard that would reveal the result of his three years of relentless training. The sweat-soaked effort he had poured into every centimeter and millisecond since the last Olympics weighed on his mind.
Seconds ticked by—ten, twenty, nearly thirty—before the answer flashed.
Yes, Lyles is the 100-meter champion at the Paris Olympics. The World’s Fastest Man. Just barely.
In a race that will be remembered for generations, Lyles edged out Jamaica’s Kishane Thompson by a mere five-thousandths of a second—0.005 seconds to be precise. The final tally read: Lyles, 9.784 seconds; Thompson, 9.789.
Before heading to Paris, one of Lyles’ physiotherapists had forewarned this race would be a nail-biter. “He said, ‘This is how close first and second are going to be,'” Lyles recalled, pinching his thumb and forefinger almost together. “I can’t believe how right he was.”
For perspective, the blink of an eye averages 0.1 seconds—twenty times longer than the gap between first and second place in this race. So tight was the finish that when the athletes crossed the line and “Photo” appeared next to the names of Lyles, Thompson, and five others, Lyles approached Thompson and said, “I think you got the Olympics, dog.”
Thompson, who raced three lanes to the left and was uncertain of his position, responded with equal confusion. “I was like, ‘Wow, I’m not even sure, because it was that close,'” the Jamaican sprinter said.
Time resolved the doubt. When Lyles’ name emerged on top, he triumphantly snatched his name tag and held it high, exclaiming to the TV camera, “America, I told you I got this!”
The first four racers were separated by less than 0.03 seconds; the top seven, within 0.09. America’s Fred Kerley claimed third at 9.81 seconds. “That’s probably one of the most beautiful races I’ve been in,” he remarked.
Despite Kerley’s orange shoe crossing the line first, it’s the chest that determines the victor. Lyles’ chest broke the barrier first. This marked the closest 1-2 finish in the 100 meters since at least the 1980 Moscow Olympics—perhaps ever.
Back then, Britain’s Allan Wells narrowly beat Silvio Leonard when electronic timers didn’t measure thousandths of a second. Similarly close was the 1932 finish where Eddie Tolan won the Olympics’ first-ever photo finish.
During the agonizing wait, Lyles feared he might have mistimed his chest dip. “I have a decent history with dipping,” he said, recalling victories from high school and junior days.
The 9.784-second finish was a new personal best for Lyles and made him the first American 100-meter Olympic champion since Justin Gatlin in 2004. His ambition is to return the sport to the days when Carl Lewis and Edwin Moses dominated the track, making it a must-see spectacle.
Lyles’ mission began after he settled for a bronze medal in Tokyo in his then-favorite, now secondary, 200-meter sprint. The COVID-stricken Games were a nightmare for Lyles, prompting him to focus on mental health and seek a new challenge—the 100 meters and a shot at athletic immortality.
Despite being notorious for slow starts, he persisted. Winning last year’s world championships and following it up with a victory in the 200 meters put his Paris goal within reach.
However, entering the Olympic final after finishing second in his qualifiers and competing against Thompson—who had run faster than him this year—and Jamaica’s Oblique Seville, who had beaten him twice, Lyles knew this was no guaranteed victory. During introductions, Thompson let out a primal scream, mimicking Lyles’ own signature move. “I thought, ‘Man, that’s my thing, that’s crazy,’” Lyles said.
Lyles leaped and galloped down the track before returning to the starting line, where they waited three more minutes for the gun to sound. It was worth every second.
Was it Lyles’ closing speed or his lean into the line, thought to be mistimed, that made the difference? Or perhaps his ability to stay in contention over the first 60 meters—a skill refined through relentless practice?
It was all that and more.
“Everyone in the field came out knowing they could win this race,” Lyles said.
It took 9.784 seconds and another thirty for the scoreboard to confirm the victor. “Seeing that name, I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, there it is!'” Lyles exclaimed.
In a heartwarming moment for war-torn Ukraine, Yaroslava Mahuchikh won Olympic gold in the high jump, while her teammate Iryna Gerashchenko snagged bronze. The two athletes paraded their blue-and-yellow flags in a jubilant celebration.
Mahuchikh won with fewer tries to clear 2 meters compared to Australia’s Nicola Olyslagers, adding Olympic gold to her world championship and world record.
The stage is now set for an electrifying men’s 1,500-meter final on Tuesday, where world champion Josh Kerr of Britain will face off against Olympic champion Jakob Ingebrigtsen of Norway. Their semifinal showdown hinted at the intensity to come, with Ingebrigtsen edging Kerr while casting determined glances towards him.
“They should be expecting one of the most vicious and hardest 1,500s the sport’s seen in a very long time,” Kerr predicted.
Asked if he agreed, Ingebrigtsen responded, “Depends who you ask, maybe… Racing is what you want it to be.”
