Behind McKenzie Long’s Olympic debut, a mother’s love and a profound grief

The fabric was so soft and official. The polyamide-spandex blend hugged, yet still breathed. The speedsuit’s pink piping and yellow Adidas logo practically glowed against the kit’s deep purple, a color Adidas dubs “preloved fig.” McKenzie Long put it on and modeled in the nearest mirror, seeing how it complimented her skin tone, her muscles, the tattoo sleeve covering her right arm.

This speedsuit could be bought for about $300. But her cost was much more. Her price was all of her discipline. An untold number of brutal workouts. The pain in every defeat. The hunger remaining after victory. A life devoid of typical indulgences. But her reward, one of them, came shortly before the U.S. Olympic track and field trials. Long turned pro and signed an endorsement deal with the sports apparel giant. The inaugural donning of her speedsuit punctuated the milestone.

Oh, what she’d have given for her mother to lay the first eyes on it, have the honor of first reaction.

But Tara Elizabeth Jones, neé Murphy, died on Jan. 29 of a heart attack. She was a little over two months from her 46th birthday. When Long left her mother’s home in Hawaii over Christmas break, they both envisioned the success Long would capture. Mom spoke her Olympic dreams into existence, breathing confidence into her daughter’s hidden areas of doubt. Mrs. Jones earned this breakthrough as much as her daughter.

“When I first put this pro uniform on,” Long, 24, said last month. Her voice trembled until it cracked. Tears welled to the brim of her mascara. “I was like, ‘I really wish you could see me in my pro uniform.’”

Grief is reputed for its sucker punches. A master in the art of unbeknownst, its specialty is sneaking up on the grieving, pouncing on the smallest triggers. A song. A piece of candy. A similar laugh. A certain word or how it’s delivered. A random gesture.

Long is increasingly familiar with grief’s stealthy ways. Just before the women’s 100-meter final at trials, she waited in a designated area before the race. One of the officials at Hayward Field, on the campus of the University of Oregon, used the opportunity to gift Long a bracelet. This unknown person learned of Long’s story, how she’d sprinted into notoriety despite the recent death of her mother, and was moved to kindness. The bracelet she gave Long included an encouraging message and was delivered with comforting words.

Suddenly, Long’s focus shifted from pre-race intensity to a brewing sadness she struggled to suppress.

“It was a stone bracelet, and it had a meaning behind it,” Long said. “And I was reading it. … It was, like, an empowerment bracelet. She said, “You’re in my prayers’ and all this sentimental stuff. I was like, ‘Dang, I’m trying to lock in.’”

But grief is also bold enough to show up in significant times. To wait in the open. To stare its targets in the face, challenging them to handle the deluge of emotion.

“When I first put this pro uniform on,” Long said last month, “I was like, ‘I really wish (my mom) could see me in my pro uniform.’” (Patrick Smith / Getty Images)

It sure keeps meeting Long in her biggest moments. At the 2024 NCAA outdoor championships, where she became a hot name in the world of track and field by winning a national title in the 100 meters, the 200 meters and the 4×100 relay. In her room in Eugene, Ore., after she missed making the women’s 100-meter final at trials (by .07 seconds) and could’ve used a bosom on which to collapse from the disappointment. After she’d taken third in the 200-meter final, beating out Sha’Carri Richardson for a spot on her first Olympic team.

The next climax of Long’s journey is upon her in Paris. This is the part carved from her fantasies, what’s been driving her on this incredible run. It’s full of monumental occasions. Arriving at the Olympic Village. Putting on her red, white and blue uniform with “USA” across her chest. Stepping to the blocks on this most massive stage, against the best in the world.

“That’s gonna be another monumental moment,” she said. “Another hard-reality moment.”

Grief will certainly stalk her in those times, prey on her desire for her mother’s presence and anchoring voice. Mom always knew just what to say to calm Kenzie down when she was going haywire before a meet.

Or turn her up.

“You’re McKenzie Long. They should be afraid of you.”

“Piece of cake” has become their mantra. That’s how mom classified her favorite sprinter’s lofty ambitions.

That’s why Long is so determined to make sure her mother is with her. Every step of the way. She’s been known to find a private spot in the stands before the race so she could talk to her mom. The conversation continues at the starting block.

“Let’s do this, mom.”

“You got this baby girl.”

When Long crosses the finish line, she’s got more words for the maternal spirit she keeps close. Then in interviews, she speaks of her freely, though it may hurt. Because keeping her mother present is preserving a critical element of how she made it here.

Grief can be a consumer of energy, a larcenist of zeal, powerful enough to buckle the strongest. Many people need it to run its course and vacate before resuming their usual excellence. Long, though, is among those who can forge through grief and emerge better than ever. A heavy heart hasn’t slowed her down.

She’s been nothing short of spectacular the last couple of months. She had a dominant final season at Ole Miss, capped by a performance at the NCAA championships that put her name on the marquee. Then she was one of the darlings of the Olympic trials. She is convinced it’s with the aid of her mother. She can hear her voice in the wind. Feel her like a sensation.

It seems, for Long, the same thing that makes you fast makes you cry.

“Going into these past couple months,” Long explained, “(I’m) just not separating my mom, including her in everything that I do. … Doing the little things that remind me of my mom and include that into the track and field world. And, honestly, that’s helped me so much. Letting me feel her. Letting me include her. Hearing her voice play back in my head. It pushes me through.”

Gabby Thomas and McKenzie Long embrace after the 200-meter at U.S. Olympic trials. Both qualified for Paris, where competition begins Sunday. (Patrick Smith / Getty Images)

Jones’ death has been a crushing blow for many in her circle. In addition to her four children — Jake, Isaiah, McKenzie and Karmen — Jones spent her life helping people, including the most in need. As a psychiatric travel nurse, she provided care and support for people struggling with mood and psychotic disorders, substance abuse and even dementia. Travel Psych RNs work everywhere from hospitals to homes, clinics to schools.

Jones’ career matched her reputation as empathetic. It was reciprocated in February as 92 people donated towards her funeral expenses, raising more than $6,700 for her service back in Ironton, Ohio.

“Tara was a cherished friend whose infectious laughter and genuine empathy brightened the lives of those around her,” her husband wrote. “Whether lending a listening ear or offering words of encouragement, Tara’s presence had a profound impact on everyone she encountered.”

No one mistook her kindness for weakness, though. Jones was a straight shooter with little to no hesitancy speaking her heart. She celebrated her ninth wedding anniversary with a transparent post to listeners of the Cup of Jones podcast with her husband about the hurt she’s endured in her marriage. She talked openly about having bariatric surgery — an operation that alters the digestive system to induce weight loss — last August and what she deemed a harmful relationship with food. The surgery seemed to be a physical and emotional success. She created a playlist for her workouts — “Don’t Be A Lazy B—” is what she titled it — including songs by Lizzo and Cardi B. Long was listening to it during trials.

The jewels of a queen’s crown are her children. Jones’ oldest, Jake Long, played football at West Virginia, and now he’s an entrepreneur. Jones moved the family from Ironton to Columbus so he could train at a higher level. Isaiah is a dancer and rave thrower who openly talks about thriving with autism. Karmen, the baby, is a burgeoning model.

And, of course, the nation now knows her beloved Kenzie.

Her explosion onto the scene wasn’t a fluke. It’s been a slow grind. Steady progression made sturdy by adversity. Long spent four years in North Carolina State’s prestigious program, working her way into an All-American. In May of 2021, she had hip surgery to correct an issue bad enough for hip replacement to be considered. A year later, she set North Carolina State’s record in the 200 meters (23.00 seconds). But she didn’t qualify for NCAAs.

With two years of eligibility remaining, Long left NC State — with two bachelor’s degrees, one in psychology, the other in communication. She transferred to Ole Miss as a graduate student.

As a Rebel, she grew into elite.

Her best 100-meter time at N.C. State: 11.49 seconds. At Ole Miss, she dropped it 11.00 in 2023. In the 200 meters, she never posted a time below 23 seconds time at N.C. State. But in 2023 at Ole Miss, she got it down to 22.31.

Running for Ole Miss, McKenzie Long was 2024 NCAA outdoor champion in the 100- and 200-meter. She’ll run the 200 in Paris. (Morgan Engel / NCAA Photos via Getty Images)

Then came the NCAA championships. Long looked like a future star, best in America. She won a national title in the 100 meters (with a personal best time of 10.91 seconds) and in the 200 meters (another personal best, 21.83 seconds). She also ran the anchor leg for Ole Miss’ national title in the 4×100 relay. All of this went down in about 90 minutes. Piece of cake.

Suddenly, Long — who is also leaving Ole Miss with two master’s degrees, one in criminal justice and one in public health — emerged as one of the fastest women in the world and was named a semifinalist for the coveted Bowerman Award.

“I have to do a double take,” Long’s dad, Michael, told WSAZ News in their hometown. “Because, like, that’s my daughter. It absolutely blows my mind. … She really didn’t have a lot of time to grieve and go through the grieving process. To push through that, I just look forward to seeing her compete with those Olympians.”

Something’s revealing about her best event being the 200 meters. Speed with a shot of endurance. Long’s fast enough for the 100. Her personal best time would’ve gotten her to the final at trials, where anything is possible. She was so close, she spent the next day or so crying from the letdown.

But the 100 was just the appetizer for her main course. The 200 also requires elite speed, but something more. Running the curve demands additional technique and makes lane position more relevant. But the 200 can also be more forgiving. Rough starts aren’t quite as punishing. Because the 200 is about finishing. Exploding out of the turn. Digging deep for the final stretch. Hitting top speed and holding it. The last 100. The last 60. The last 20. It’s a test of strength and will, to be fast farther.

The finish is when Long’s potential becomes visceral. Determination chisels her jaw. Power concentrates in her eyes. Sometimes, you can see her dig deeper. Summon something extra.

She knows from where that extra comes. Whenever she grabs her phone, she kisses the picture of her mother on the screen before unlocking it. Mrs. Jones looks so happy in that picture, smiling on a beach in Hawaii.

“Mom, I made a commitment to you, and as the strong woman you raised, there is no excuses,” Long wrote on Instagram a week before her mother’s “Celebration of Life” service. “I got a very powerful guardian angel by my side through it all and I know you will never fail me. I live through you. I got you. I got us.”

An open book like her mother, she’s talked of her bouts with anxiety, and how overwhelming the transition to professional has been. Not to mention the daunting prospect of running against fellow American Gabby Thomas, Jamaica’s Shericka Jackson, Saint Lucia’s Julien Alfred and Great Britain’s Daryll Neita.

All of this while grief nips at her heels.

“I’m so inspired by her story,” Gabby Thomas said of Long. “I watched her at the NCAAs. There are so many amazing female athletes in our sport, and some of them just really stick out and stand out. And she’s one of them. I’m so touched by her season and how hard she’s worked and what she’s overcome. … She has something. She has something really special.”

She could very well earn her first Olympic medal. At a minimum, her story will be told to millions while she’s in Paris, her name increasingly known in the track and field world and in her home country.

Long could be one of the star American women in track and field. She’s got the talent for it. She’s got the drive for it. She’s got the resilience for it.

She’s also got the mom for it. Piece of cake.