Grant Fisher's Daring Run for Bronze in the 10,000 Kicks Off Olympic Track With a Bang

The 27-year-old overcame an early stumble and late charge from the field to claim a medal, becoming just the second American man to do so in the race in the last 56 years.

Fisher became just the second American man in the last 56 years to medal in the 10,000-meters at the Olympics. / Michael Steele/Getty Images

SAINT-DENIS, France — The 10,000-meter run unspooled in glorious and dramatic fashion late Friday night, inside an iconic track stadium, in front of a crowd that “raucous” fails to describe. After an American medaled for only the second time in 56 years and third time ever in Olympic competition, words could not convey the enthusiasm surging—in Paris, on social media and all over the world.

This was an ALL CAPS race, a series-of-however-many-exclamation-points one wanted race. There was crying. And 27-year-old American Grant Fisher in the center of it all.

First, the history. The 10,000 meters, as an Olympic race, is typically something of a red-headed stepchild in Olympic importance and lore. Not Friday. And perhaps not moving forward. Each of the three medalists finished in just over 26 minutes. It was that close, despite the distance; 26 grueling, shifting laps around the track.

Joshua Cheptegei of Uganda won the only major race he hadn’t yet triumphed in at the Olympics, marking his third straight global title—and perhaps his last. His time: 26:43.14, an Olympic record.

Berihu Aregawi—the latest Kenyan among the many who have turned the 10,000 meters into a matter of national pride—finished second, winning silver. His time: 26:43.44.

He just nipped Fisher by 0.02 seconds. But don’t mistake a reshuffling of the medalists in the final 10 meters as any sort of letdown. Fisher was elated. He had every right to be. In the first track and field final held at the Paris Olympics, the 10,000 turned the Stade de France into a rock concert. Distance runners weren’t the drummers here. They were standing in front, holding the mic, whipping both hair and crowds into delirium.

Now, the race. Fisher stumbled once over 25 laps, owing to the fast pace and a field more bunched than normal. He was bumped and his foot hit the track’s rail. Neither took him down, but that was his lone “mistake" over 25 laps. And it marked the difference between the bronze medal he won and the silver he almost seized.

The rest of Fisher’s race should be shown in track clubs across the country. He put on a master-class in tactical racing, staying patient and calm amid the din.

Surprised at how many were keeping that kind of pace early, Fisher kept near the front of the pack. He also didn’t panic or try to close any gaps too soon. He liked his position and he stayed there, moving up, inching toward the leaders, until the final 400 meters.

That’s when he made his move. Through half of that final lap, he shifted into position for a medal. Off the final corner before the final straightaway, he gauged his momentum. He felt good; great, even. So off he went.

Now, Fisher admitted afterward that finishing speed has never exactly been his forte. But what he had, he gave. Every single ounce of speed that he had left. He started to lose momentum with 10 meters to go, which might have been a shame on any other night but this one. That’s how Aregawi nosed past him for the silver.

Fisher didn’t see any mistakes apart from the stumble Friday. In past races, he said he let leaders get too far ahead too early. He didn’t “maintain position.” He didn’t push until too late. But he survived the “choppy” portion of this 10,000, got near the front, threatened to win and almost held on. Which is precisely how he wanted to run this race.

After losing a few spots on the stumble, he refocused. He tried to zone out and relax, but, really, on Friday, who could? “There was always a new surge,” he said afterward. He answered every one. He sparked more than a few. He almost set an Olympic record in the process. Not running too hard, being ready for the moment when the moment presented itself—that’s what mattered. “My tactic worked really perfectly,” he said.

Less than a second separated the top three finishers in the field, making for an electric scene at the Stade De France. / Steph Chambers/Getty Images

Fisher had been injured last year, and the world championships took place without him. He wanted, more than anything, to return to a global stage. He knew the last lap would decide this 10,000, and that the final 100 meters would be critically important. He ran the second-fastest time in U.S. history in a championship race and captured the first U.S. medal on the track at these Olympics.

Afterward, Cheptegei openly discussed this being his last Olympic 10,000-meter run, maybe his last Games, period. He embraced Fisher at one point, saying the American could win all the races now, that it was his turn, like Tom Brady passing the torch to Patrick Mahomes. Except for one problem—they’re the same age.

Fisher told the backstory of his triumph. He came back from injury. He left his training group. He left his coach. He trained at high altitude, including a stint in Park City, Utah, for these Games. Incorporated more science. Then, made the Olympic team. 

When Fisher showed up in Paris, he ran in “front of the biggest and loudest crowd in his life.” He corrected part of that. Tokyo might have had the biggest stadium. But when he looked into the stands in 2021, they were empty, of energy and people. These fans in Paris screamed during the first lap of a 25-lap race. He couldn’t hear the sound of his own feet, pounding the track, propelling him toward history.

He noted, later, how the 10,000 doesn’t “get a lot of love sometimes, but that crowd, tonight, it felt like we were the best show in town.” It was “super fun.” It was “a fast, fast pace.” And yeah, it felt validating. In so many other international competitions, he had been in similar positions and not capitalized on them. “And, in our sport, through the Olympics, it’s the biggest thing that can transform.” Careers. Lives. Legacies.

“The narrative when I was a kid was like, the U.S., we just can’t run with the Kenyan guys,” he said, as late Friday stretched toward early Saturday in Paris. “We can’t run with the European guys. I hope [this race] showed I’m capable of that.” It did. And it showed a whole lot more.

“My mindset shifted a lot,” Fisher says. He hopes for the same from U.S. sports fans. “People are capable of great things,” he said. And he didn’t need to say that. Fisher had already proven that, in the best, most remarkable way possible.