

The New Zealander and OAC middle-distance runner shares his mindset around aspiration and acceptance before taking action in Paris.
Words by Sheridan Wilbur. Photography by Kevin Morris and Colin Wong.
George Beamish pulled an all-nighter after he won the 1,500m at the 2024 World Indoor Championships. “Not the kind you’d imagine,” he says. By midnight the Kiwi returned to his hotel in Glasgow and enjoyed a couple celebratory beers with the New Zealand team. Then he laid down for five minutes, showered, and headed to the airport. Beamish had business to get back to in Boulder, CO, where he lives and trains with On Athletics Club (OAC).
Figuratively and literally Beamish makes bold moves. He has a track record to prove it. At just 15 he left the family farm in Havelock North, New Zealand, to attend boarding school across the island. By 19, he traded lush greenery for the dry, barren landscape in Arizona, US to run on a track scholarship. By 26, he took up the challenge of turning himself into a steeplechase runner. Today, at 27, Beamish has the courage to risk failure. Nothing is fixed.
We catch up a few weeks after Beamish’s big win in Scotland. He shocked everyone, including himself when he came from behind in lane three, to grab gold in 3:36.54. And yet, Beamish’s kick is so powerful, so consistent, that his teammates and fans call him ‘Textbook George.’ After the race, the question he was asked the most: “was it your lifetime goal to get a gold medal?”
He told them, honestly, no.
“I never thought I was going to win a World Championship. Now I've won one. It's pretty tight, but it's not changing my outlook on life. I didn't need the dream of winning Worlds to get me out of bed every morning to train. That's not why I’m doing it. I'm not grinding through a workout in the back of my mind saying I want to win. I’m just enjoying the process. That's corny to say. But I don’t need to win a certain race to make the year, or my career a success.”
It would be an unbearable weight to know what happens in the end and Beamish seems to glide through uncertainty. Before racing his first 1,500m in two years, he gained confidence from OAC teammate, American Yared Nuguse. “[Yared] had just run 3:47 and pretty much anything he was doing on the track, I could do with him.”
What else led to Beamish’s breakout race? Staying “reasonably healthy,” he says. “Training’s been good obviously, to run that well.” He didn’t do “anything exciting,” just a lot of volume at altitude. But more mileage is exciting for Beamish, who has spent eons of hours cross-training. “I had momentum by January. I was impatient to get on the track.”
In his season opener at the John Terrier Classic at Boston University, he ran the 5,000m. “You forget how stress-inducing it is for people to absolutely scream on the infield for 25 laps. It’s hard to relax.” The pressure seemed to work though. Beamish ran 13:04.33, breaking the New Zealand record, bettered the country’s outdoor record and earned the Olympic standard, punching his ticket to Paris.
Two weeks later, he ran the 2-mile at Millrose in New York City. Beamish ran 8:05.73 with a 55.2s final 400m. Another New Zealand record. “I was just in a good place leading up to Glasgow,” he remarks.
By the time he got to Worlds, Beamish counted himself in. Others counted him out. “People consider this an “off event” for me,” he says, which he framed as a “luxury.” And the versatile athlete had regrets to amend. “The biggest mistake I’ve made in my career was choosing to run 5,000m at World Champs in Eugene instead of 1500m.”
This outdoor season, Beamish’s main focus is neither. The 3,000m steeplechase is still a relatively new event for him, and it’s where he’s putting his energy. Surprisingly he felt the speed needed in the 1500m didn’t play to his strengths, nor the distance of 5,000m. “I struggle massively running in hot conditions,” he says about summer championship racing.
Beamish is more dynamic, more explosive, than the average distance runner. “I pick up things in the gym quickly. I have the necessary tools to jump over stuff,” he says. “The 3,000m steeplechase makes sense physically and anatomically.” His coach, Dathan Ritzenhein, spent $250 on lumber and bolts to build a homemade version of the barrier. Within a few months, Beamish earned the Oceania area record in the event in 8:13.26, and finished fifth at the 2023 World Athletics Championships.
His decision to compete in steeplechase was not motivated by a better chance of making world teams. He’s just improved a lot overall. In 2017, his personal best in the 3,000m was 8:10.06. Now he has nearly run the same time with 28 barriers and seven water jumps to clear.
Beamish is obviously a natural talent. But he’s also flexible in how he goes from point A to point B, a valuable attitude in a race ripe with obstacles. That’s how he decided on where to attend university. He made a stop at North Arizona University en route to see the Grand Canyon with his brother in 2017. When he arrived on campus, he “got a really good vibe” and “fell in love” with Flagstaff. Beneath Beamish’s casual vibe lies an esoteric truth. Listen to your instincts.
He describes NAU’s program, coached by Mike Smith, as having a “strong team dynamic.” While his teammates helped him achieve success, he was “never better than every person on the team. I was significantly worse than a good amount of people,” he says modestly. Still, Beamish revealed glimpses of greatness. He won an NCAA title in the indoor mile, three team titles in cross country and graduated as a six-time All American, indicating his potential as a pro.
But perhaps more than success, Beamish gained a mental edge from setbacks – from chronic Tibialis Posterior tendinopathy, to stress fractures in both shins, to a sacral stress reaction. Over 11 collegiate seasons, he was injured in all 11 of them. Five were season ending. From 2020 to 2021 he had over 200 days off of running. Beamish is more familiar with living in reality – cross-training based on effort, or beside teammates faster than him – than getting caught up in dreams.
“I'm not much of a goal setter, to be honest,” he says. “Not really into it. I’m anti-goal setting, mostly.”
When life forces you to live in the intensity of the unknown, between unpredictable futures, it’s also a chance to develop inner resources that benefit the years that follow. Beamish graduated with an appreciation for when he can run, and for his training partners. “It’s hard to recreate the team environment we had in college,” he reflects. “But I was ready for a change.”
In August 2020, he joined the OAC and moved to Boulder to be coached by Ritzenhein. Beamish was optimistic Ritzenhein could “steer” his running in the right direction. “Dathan’s had injuries I can’t even pronounce. 15 stress fractures. Four or five surgeries. He knows a thing or two about that.” Beamish describes their relationship as “really strong,” built on “mutual trust.”
The OAC is unique in the sense that many athletes are from different countries, so they push each other in practice then root for each other in races. They’re not fighting for the same spot on World Championship teams. Beamish says the team is pretty low-key. “Runners live a pretty uneventful lifestyle,” he says. He spends an hour a week co-hosting the Coffee Club podcast with teammates Morgan McDonald and Ollie Hoare, describing it as “a nice outlet to talk about random shit.”
Beamish’s plan this summer is to earn the Olympic standard in all three events. “It would be crazy,” he says. “How many people in the world have those three standards?” Not that many. “That’s funny. But I haven't done it yet. I've only got two.” (A few months after our interview, Beamish went on to earn all three. He is now the only person with Olympic Standards for the 1500m, 3000 steeplechase and 5000 events.)
Beamish just likes to go for it, for the sake of trying. Success to him, is having a career “I can be proud of” and confidently say he enjoyed his time running. But Beamish is someone who loves the moment he’s in. “I like running. I like trying to get super fit. One day at a time, a week at a time, race at a time, whatever the outcome.” But make no mistake. He says, “I like winning. I love winning. I like running fast. I live for the last 200m.”
Beamish prefers action over aspiration. In the world of elite running, where forward movement is the marker for progress, it’s rare to find an athlete like him. “People think if you don't have a goal, then you must not be trying to run fast,” Beamish says. And yet his medal collection speaks for itself. “I'm still trying to train hard, and I'm going to run as fast as I can.”