Super Fran is Hungrier Than Ever to Win Olympic Gold After Her Delhi Belly-Aches

The last time the public saw Fran Halsall the girl tipped to be one of the big, multi-medal-winning stars of London 2012 appeared as white as a ghost, wan, sunken-eyed and close – very close – to throwing up.

 

This was at the Commonwealth Games in Delhi last month where the 20-year-old freestyle and butterfly serial world, European and now Commonwealth medallist was hit with such a ferocious bout of “Delhi Belly” that, at one point, she collapsed poolside and needed to be drip fed with electrolytes.

 

A few weeks on and, happily, Fran has made a full recovery. The happy-go-lucky Southport-born, Loughborough-based swimmer, who ended up winning a gold, three silvers a and bronze at the Games, can laugh about her Delhi experience now, but there was nothing funny about it at the time.

 

Indeed, only now can the true story of what went on with Halsall be revealed, and it is one that tells of desperate facilities, illness, tears, bonding and love.

 

Matters were not exactly looking rosy even before she began feeling “slightly off” on the Tuesday in which she took gold in the 50 metres butterfly and qualified for the 100 metres freestyle final.

 

“I’d had a good time in our holding camp in Doha where we lived the life of luxury,” she recalls, before adding with a giggle. “There were even chocs on the pillow every night!”

 

She knew it would not be the same in Delhi, of course, and had “some reservations” about the following week but decided, rightly, to focus on her job. Travelling through the streets of Delhi en route to the athletes’ village, and subsequent journeys to the pool to compete were, in itself, an experience.

 

“It was impossible not to notice the abject poverty, the people in the streets and the shanty houses,” she says. “But I always thought the village would be of the same standard as it was at the Melbourne Commonwealth Games in 2006.”

 

It was not. After the first night in a flat she shared with Lizzie Simmonds, Jo Jackson, Gemma Spofforth, Kate Hutchinson and Anne Bochmann the girls had to ask for a change of their mattresses. “They were lumpy that we kept rolling out of bed – literally.”

 

Having a shower in the room had consequences, too. “When you came out of the shower you’d notice that quite a bit of water had flowed into the bedrooms. It was a bit hard to get to grips with considering we had a major Games to focus on.”

 

It was no better down at the practice pool at the village. “The first time I went for a swim there a tile cracked under my feet,” she adds.

 

Still, these were but minor problems compared to what was about to hit her and many team members. She was already beginning to feel “slightly off” on the Tuesday when she took gold in the 50 metres butterfly and qualified for the following day’s 100 metres final, her blue riband event, but when she woke the next morning the nightmare began.

 

Two months earlier Halsall had won five medals, including two golds, at the European Championships and produced the greatest individual swimmer ever by a British swimmer in the history of the championships.

 

On the Wednesday in Delhi she was, quite literally, a pale shadow of herself.

 

“I had no energy for the 100 free final, a race I expected to win, but ended up with a bronze. Twenty minutes later I was back in the pool for the 100 fly semi. I knew it would be a terrible performance because there was nothing in the tank, but I’m not a quitter.

 

“Afterwards I lay by the practice pool very close to passing out. My coach was trying to get me back on to my feet while the doctor was feeding me with electrolytes and checking that I wasn’t going to die on him. He seemed pretty worried at the time, and so was I.”

 

They were not the only ones. Sitting back at home on Merseyside Fran’s parents watched the drama unfold on television. “My Mum got hold of me not long after I’d had a drugs test at the venue and she was really upset,” Halsall admits. “She wanted to come and take me home. I told her that I didn’t feel great but lots of people had it.”

 

She took the bus back to the village by herself, alone with her thoughts and deeply upset. “I had a cry on the bus,” she reveals. “Then I went to the dining room, grabbed hold of some bread rolls, and went straight to bed, although I was up and down all night running to the toilet.”

 

At least back in the village she was not alone. Her boyfriend of one year, Alastair Wilson, happened to be competing at the Games as well, dreaming of a hockey gold medal with England. The defender was on hand to comfort Halsall in her darkest hour.

 

“Alastair came straight round to see me and gave me a huge cuddle in the room. He had Delhi Belly as well, although not as bad as me at the time. It cheered me up a lot to have him there.”

 

The defender was not the only help. It turns out every single member of the Halsall flat were suffering to one degree or another. In their plight they turned to each other.

 

“Lizzie really suffered, Jo got it pretty bad, and everyone else had it as well. The team doctor hardly ever left our apartment during the week.

 

“The funny thing was, looking back it made the six of us so much stronger and closer as a unit. We all decided we just had to get on with it and it proved to be a massive bonding session. If someone got down – and we all did at some point during the week – then we’d end up hugging each other.”

 

On the Thursday Halsall felt a little better but still decided to take a gamble. “I caught the latest possible bus to the venue to grab some extra time in bed,” she explains. “It meant that instead of completing 1200 metres in the practice pool, which is what I’d normally do before a big race, I only managed 200 metres.”

 

It paid off because she managed to claim three silvers in the 100 free and the two relays, making it five Commonwealth medals in total, despite the most extraordinary barriers to clear.

 

Still, as Halsall flew home that Sunday morning on the seat nearest to the toilet at the back of the plane, she knew what might have been. “I came to Delhi in great shape and in brilliant form, fully expecting to achieve a lot more than I ultimately did. The Europeans had gone better than I’d hoped for because my main focus for the year had been the Commonwealths where I’d planned to really shine. I was very disappointed by how the week panned out in Delhi.”

 

It wasn’t much better for Wilson, either, whose England hockey team crashed out in the semi-finals, losing to India on penalties to just miss out on a medal, and all watched on TV back at the Loughborough home she shares with him by Halsall.

 

“That’s just the worst place to finish, isn’t it?” she offers. “I don’t know who was more upset about Delhi out of the pair of us.”

 

They had a week to discuss it in Abu Dhabi where Halsall flew out to join Wilson for a well-earned holiday, although it had taken a few days back home for her to be rid of her gastric problems, and longer for Wilson to be well again. “Poor Alastair had it for the week we were in Abu Dhabi.” She screws her face up. “Not nice.”

 

A couple of weeks on, and with the colour back in Halsall’s cheeks, she is beginning to recognise the positives out of her Commonwealth ordeal.

 

“It proved that when things go wrong I’m still able to perform and achieve,” she argues. “Maybe not as well as I could if everything was perfect, but it’s not always a perfect world, and it may not be in London in 2012. The obstacles placed in front of me in Delhi were huge but I still, to a large extent, overcame them, and this gives me great heart and determination for the future.

 

“It’s also made me hungrier than ever. It’s all been plain-sailing for me up to the Commonwealths but now I have a different, more “full-on” perspective to what I want to ultimately achieve. I’ve been like a wild animal since I got back to training. It’s an attitude derived from Delhi. I realise how much I hate losing. And I now know just how much I want to win gold in London.”

 

Training will temporarily need to be put on hold because Halsall will have an operation on her ankle this week which will make her performances even better. “It’s just to get rid of some cartilage clogging up the system when I kick,” she says. “I’ve had it all year and it’s hampered me so I’ll return to training at the end of December fully fit for the first time in ages.”

 

It means that poor Alastair Wilson will have his hands full between now and Christmas. “I’m going to get a little bell and ring it whenever I need something,” Halsall promises with a loud laugh.

 

She is joking? “I’m not sure I am, actually,” she replies. “Anyway, that’s the least of his problems. He’s got to get me a fantastic 21st birthday present in April. I hope he gets it right.”

 

And with that Francesca Halsall shimmies away, restored in health and attitude, and beginning to realise that the traumas of Delhi may play their part in the ecstasy of London.                

 

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