Usain Bolt had spent his entire career outrunning expectations, but in 2017, there was no race, no medal, no record that could prepare him for what came next. In April, he lost his close friend, Germaine Mason, in a devastating motorcycle accident. One night, they were laughing together; the next morning, Bolt was standing at the crash site, staring at the unthinkable. The grief hit high, training became impossible, and his mind stuck in those final moments. And yet, even as he struggled to breathe through the loss, the world didn’t stop. The expectations didn’t pause. Fans, sponsors, and his team still demanded his presence on the track. But how do you outrun heartbreak when it’s weighing you down at the starting line?

“I told my coach, ‘I don’t wanna run the 200. The only thing I wanna do is the 100,’” Bolt shared on the Ready Set Go podcast on February 27, speaking with Rodney Green and Justin Gatlin. “I wanted to retire after the Olympics, but everyone—my sponsors, my coach—they all pushed me. ‘It’s London,’ they said. ‘You have to be there.’” Mason’s death hit even harder knowing that he had been just weeks away from becoming a father for the second time. The Birmingham-based high jumper had been riding his powerful Honda CBR bike when the accident happened, cutting his life short in an instant.

Usain Bolt, already the biggest name in track and field, had shattered records in both the 100m and 200m, making him the most sought-after athlete. Naturally, his major sponsors—Puma, Gatorade, Hublot, and Visa—who had invested millions in him, wanted to see him race one last time. But Bolt wasn’t mentally or physically ready. “For two months, I was out of it,” he admitted. “I couldn’t train. I couldn’t focus.” He hadn’t done the necessary background work for the 200m and had only been preparing for the 100m. Still, the pressure to compete was relentless.

Even his doctor warned him against running. “Bro, don’t go,” Bolt recalled his doctor saying. “You’re not fit. You’re not ready. If you go, you’re gonna get injured.” But how could he say no? The world was watching, expecting him to step onto the track one final time. Despite knowing the risks, he convinced himself to go. “I was just running on mental strength,” he said. But deep down, he knew what was coming.

As Usain bolt lined up for the 100m, the signs of rust were there. Training partner Jevaughn Minzie got a quick start, briefly making Bolt look human. But halfway through the race, the old magic flickered back to life. With his signature acceleration, he powered past the field, crossing the line in 10.03 seconds—a time that, by pure coincidence, matched his first-ever international 100m race a decade earlier. It was nowhere near his 9.58 world record, but this race wasn’t about breaking records.

Having missed critical training time while mourning Mason’s death, he knew this race was about more than just numbers. It was about showing up, about giving his all one last time. And even though he knew he wasn’t at his best, he ran—because that’s what legends do. But in the end, Bolt believes Mason would have wanted him to push through. “He would’ve wanted me to be strong, to focus,” he reflected. Though his final race ended in pain, his legacy was already set in stone. The fastest man in history had nothing left to prove. But one question still lingers how severe was the crash that took him away so suddenly?

Medals fade but Usain Bolt’s friendships don’t

Germaine Mason’s final moments were heartbreaking. A high jump silver medalist from the Olympics rode his motorcycle on the Palisadoes main road in Jamaica before an accident occurred. Reports indicate that during the incident Mason lost control of his bike as he tried to avoid a vehicle that made a dangerous maneuver in front of him. The accident took place at around 4:30 a.m. before the hospital declared his death despite medical attempts to stabilize him.

Beyond his successful jumping career, Mason was known to friends and family for his gentle nature along with his loving personality and steady character. He started competing for Jamaica before choosing Team GB which allowed him to claim silver at the 2008 Beijing Olympics through his 2.34 meters personal best jump. According to an interview in 2009, he discovered his competitive enjoyment when he observed Bolt’s Beijing Olympic 100-meter record-breaking run.

His coach, Fuzz Caan, spoke of the bond they shared, one that extended far beyond the track. “Germaine was a fantastic, gentle man,” Caan said. The coach also revealed that Mason and Bolt had been secretly working on a project together—one that, heartbreakingly, will never see the light of day.

Beyond the medals, beyond the competition, Mason was a man who kept his personal life private. Even his closest friends were surprised to learn, only after his passing, that he had a child. “I showed him a photo of my kid once, and he quietly pulled out one of his own,” Caan said. “I had no idea.” That was just who he was—humble, grounded, never one to seek the spotlight off the track.  And for Usain Bolt, who had shared so many years of friendship, training, and dreams with him, this loss is something that no world record, no gold medal, no celebration could ever fix.