Carl Lewis: Unveiling the Legend Beyond the Finish Line

For many, the name Frederick Carlton Lewis, a 64-year-old athletics coach at the University of Houston, might not immediately spark recognition. But what if we simply say Carl Lewis?

Ah, now that rings a bell! Carl Lewis isn’t just a name; it’s synonymous with athletic greatness. A true legend, he dominated the 100-meter and 200-meter sprints, shattered world records with astonishing regularity, and impressively, still holds the world indoor long jump record (8.79 meters) — a feat untouched for an incredible 41 years.

After retiring from competitive athletics in 1987, Lewis carved out a multifaceted life beyond the track. He explored acting, ventured into politics, and became a guiding light for aspiring athletes. Yet, through all these endeavors, speed remained his core identity. His disdain for ‘slow’ activities is so strong that he playfully dismisses golf, a popular pastime for many retired sports stars.

This makes his appointment as the international brand ambassador for the Vedanta Delhi Half Marathon (VDHM) — a demanding 21-kilometer race — all the more surprising. Lewis himself, with his characteristic humor, acknowledges this irony. ‘I am horrible. You would never want to see me run distance. It’s just a painful sight,’ he quips. ‘Part of the reason I don’t like to watch a lot of distance running is because I wasn’t very good at it.’

With that lighthearted disclaimer, Lewis, standing at a commanding six-foot-two, effortlessly transitions into the charismatic showman we know. He still possesses the formidable physique of his athletic prime, and he’s never one to pull punches. Throughout his whirlwind Delhi tour, Lewis remained true to form, unafraid to express his candid opinions, which have often garnered both controversy and admiration. His itinerary even included a memorable appearance on the ramp, showcasing an exclusive Sahil Kochhar design at a Puma fashion event commemorating the VDHM’s 20th anniversary.

‘I am not going to eat anything for the rest of the day today, I want to look good up there,’ Lewis chuckled, highlighting his enduring dedication to presentation. Yet, beneath the humor, the uncompromising sportsman always shone through, evident in both his ambitious outlook for the future and his candid critiques of the present.

Reflecting on the modern era, Lewis muses, ‘If I was around now, I would have a lot of followers. I was all over the place. I was in music and entertainment. I wanted to entertain on the track. But it never affected the core performance.’ He then expressed strong disapproval for contemporary athletes, particularly women, who prioritize appearance over focus. ‘Now, what I see when our women get on the track, they’re just like makeup and everything. And it’s ridiculous. I say, ‘you’re not focused’. They say, ‘I’m going to look beautiful’,’ he remarks, highlighting a perceived shift in priorities.

Lewis’s retort to this sentiment is blunt: ‘And, I tell them every time, I have never seen anyone on a podium that isn’t beautiful. I don’t care what they look like. A Martian will look great on the top of a podium with their anthem being played.’ His disapproval is palpable, both in his tone and expression, as he laments how social media has warped priorities, making self-presentation seem more important than achievement.

While his remarks might be seen as controversial or politically incorrect, Lewis’s critique of social media transcends gender, age, or profession. He asserts, ‘The challenge is that society is not telling kids they’re wrong about anything. They’re not holding them accountable or pushing them. I think we are underselling the world’s children, especially in America.’ He believes modern children are ‘spoiled’ and ill-equipped to handle adversity, lamenting the over-emphasis on mental health support instead of fostering resilience. ‘Kids can take so much more. They’re more resilient, smarter. But we’re almost teaching them not to be able to handle things, so when they do have issues, they can’t handle it,’ he passionately argued.

Lewis, ever outspoken, also wears his political views on his sleeve, his eyes gleaming and voice intensifying. ‘What social media did was to take away excellence and replace it with winning,’ he declared. ‘The people with the most followers are clowns. So now athletes think that a million followers replaces excellent performance…’ He further implicated social media and reality television for broader societal issues, asserting that without them, ‘we wouldn’t have that thing in office in the United States, because everyone knew he was a clown,’ a clear, albeit veiled, political jab.

Despite his strong opinions, Lewis remains focused on his coaching, confidently predicting at least two or three of his trainees will compete at the Los Angeles Olympics in three years. After that, he plans to retire from coaching. ‘I may not do anything, focus on myself. I have a nine-year-old granddaughter, that’s something I’ll be looking at. Whether I like it or not, I’m going to be me the rest of my life,’ he stated, hinting at a more private future.

So, when all the layers of athletic prowess, public attention, political commentary, and showmanship are peeled back, who is the real Carl Lewis? ‘A homebody,’ he reveals. ‘I like to be home. I come home every day, I’ve had someone cook for me since the mid-80s. Every day I go to practice with the kids, I leave around the same time, every day. I come home for dinner and I don’t ask her, I don’t tell her what to cook. She cooks whatever, I take a nap, at 5 o’clock I’m back up and that’s it. That’s who Carl Lewis is.’