Courtney Wayment: “Tough moments make the highs sweeter.”

Words by Sheridan Wilbur. Photography by Kennett Mohrman.

“Can I even go over that?” Courtney Wayment asks herself. With less than 800m of the race remaining, the American distance runner stares down one of the last two 30” inch black-and-white barriers. She needs to clear a water pit more than two feet at its deepest. And all the while, maintaining her 4:55/mile (3:03/km) pace speed. Her legs ache with lactic and fatigue. “I have so much to lift to get over that,” she recalls. 

Adrenaline takes over when Wayment nears the jump. Instincts override doubt. “You tap into another level of grit.” This isn’t a nightmare. It’s the 3,000m steeplechase around an outdoor track and Wayment’s body knows before her mind catches up, the obstacle is the way.

The origins of steeplechase can be traced back to an Irish horse race from the 18th century. Riders traveled from one town’s church steeple to the next, jumping over streams and low stone walls separating property en route. The first recorded running equivalent took place 100 years later, in 1850, at the University of Oxford. Manpower usurped horsepower and 28 fixed barriers, seven water jumps and pits replaced natural obstacles. 

By the 1920 Olympic Games, the steeplechase was standardized to a distance of 3,000m. The event opened up for women at the 2005 World Championships in Helsinki and made its Olympic debut in 2008 Beijing. Now, sixteen years later, with Paris 2024 on the horizon, women like Wayment drive the unconventional race forward. 

“I didn’t want to run growing up,” the 25-year-old reflects now. “I'm strong-willed and independent. Whenever people suggested things to me like, ‘Oh, you should do this,’ or ‘You need to do this’, I’d say, ‘No, I don't need to do anything.’” 

Wayment’s parents never pressured her into running. “I’d probably hate it if they did.” She discovered the reward of racing during the gym class mile. Her father, ever candid, offered a reality check: “You’re not as fast as you think you are.” The next day, Wayment defiantly signed up for track to prove him wrong.

“I'm hard-headed and when I was younger, that presented a lot of barriers.” 

As a student at Brigham Young University (BYU) in Provo, Utah, Wayment charged towards those barriers. She had never even tried the event, but in her first conversation with Coach Diljeet Taylor she declared, “I’m a steepler.” Taylor, Wayment’s coach, was intrigued by the freshman’s conviction. Wayment’s father was a two-time All-American steepler in the 1980s at Weber State University and Wayment believed she could achieve similar success. “This is who I’m meant to be on the track,” she told Taylor. 

Today, Wayment still describes steeple as her vocation. “It’s my calling,” she says. Obstacles aren’t something to get rid of, they’re a defining characteristic.

During her first few years at BYU, she honed her craft, although she says modestly, “I was nothing to write home about.” In 2017, Wayment disappointedly fell short of qualifying for nationals. Watching NCAAs from the stands at Hayward Field, she made herself a promise: “One day I’m going to be there and I’m going to be the national champion.”

The following year, two stress fractures in her tibia slowed her down. Her body begged for rest. “I couldn't get this injury to heal. That was really frustrating,” she reflects. “I felt like I had made all the right moves in my life to have success.” She was forced to take six months off. Zero exercise for the first three months. Doctors orders. “I just felt like the dream was slipping away. I didn't want to be a part of something that was breaking my heart.” 

Wayment’s relationship with Coach Taylor grew stronger through adversity. “When you're on top, it's really easy to be like, ‘I love this.’ This is so great. But when you're in that low, it feels like your whole world can just crumble on top of you. It's hard to really look for the positives. That's where I was at. To this day, that injury is one of the hardest things I've ever been through in life.” 

On the brink of quitting, she called Taylor at midnight, in distress. “She will always prioritize me as the person before considering me as the athlete,” Wayment says. And Taylor picked up to reassure her, saying, “You can do whatever you want, but I will not let you quit in a low. You owe yourself more than that.” 

In 2019, Wayment dealt with stress reaction in her femur, followed by the global pandemic that canceled the 2020 season. For four years, Wayment didn’t jump a hurdle. “I was like, ‘Maybe I'm not meant for this dream. But I'm going to have to let go of all of that. I’m just going to put my best foot forward.’”

Five years after watching nationals from Hayward’s stands, Wayment returned for her final collegiate race with a fresh perspective. “I'd learned patience. You don't get success right out the gate.” In a storybook finish, Wayment crossed the line in 9:16, breaking the 3,000m steeplechase NCAA record by more than eight seconds. She ended her university career with four D1 NCAA titles (also capturing the 5,000m, indoor 3,000m and BYU’s Distance Medley Relay), along with a fourth place finish at the Olympic Trials. “The tough moments make the high much sweeter,” she says.

Still, she didn’t see herself as a pro. Inspired by Coach Taylor, she just wanted to coach. But her family recognized her gift. The younger version of Wayment, who didn’t like being told what to do, might have been more obstinate. But she says now, “I chose to open up that dream.”

Wayment texted Coach Taylor, “Hey, I want to run pro. How do we do this?”

Today, coached by Taylor with Taylor Made Elite, a professional women’s running group in Provo, she continues to train with her former BYU teammates Whittni Orton and Anna Camp Bennett. “They'll be my people for the rest of my life,” says Wayment. “This sport can break your heart but when you’re surrounded by good people, it makes it worth it.” 

The BYU sisterhood holds a certain mystique to outsiders. For Wayment, it's a sacred bond. Teammates she ran with almost 10 years ago, still pop up on her phone daily. “We all still text and check in on each other.” She keeps tabs on her “younger sisters,” the current athletes. “I still feel such a connection to them,” she says. This support gives Wayment the secure foundation to take more risks in sport. 

In 2023, Wayment’s first full year as a pro athlete for On, she achieved more than ever. World final, check. Diamond League final, check. Team USA, check. “There's a lot of good. But I definitely wasn’t satisfied. It was an emotional year. An emotional season.” 

She told me after finishing in 15th place at last year’s world championships, “If I’m patient, one day this thing will pan out.” 

When Wayment raced the BU John Thomas Terrier Classic in Boston this January, her hard work and self-belief paid off. She nailed the 5,000m Olympic standard with a 26 second PR in 14:49. “I just wanted to run sub-15, I didn’t know I could do that, I was shocked,” she says. Wayment ran a two-mile at Millrose a few weeks later, with a time of 9:24. With more stoicism, she views her indoor races as a fitness indicator. “Now I know I have that strength. I have a good roving engine going into outdoor.” 

I asked her what a successful year looks like. Back at the 2020 Trials [held in 2021], she finished in a bittersweet fourth place. Wayment’s proved herself on Team USA for Worlds twice since. 

“Having fun and loving the sport is my first priority. There's a part last year where I didn't love it. I wasn't having fun [and] success for myself never comes that way.” For Wayment, people are just as important as the podium. 

Today, she connects with her dad over steeplechase. “He understands that level of pain and that level of fun. It's special and it’s been something that has brought us closer together.” 

Both in steeplechase and life, Wayment’s success lies in the labor, laden with highs and lows, difficulty and risk. “I am a steeple girl through and through,” she says. No matter the barriers, Wayment stays true. The obstacle is the way. Such is the way of the steepler.