Matt Denny is no longer chasing. He’s throwing further, thinking clearer and carrying himself with the calm of an athlete who knows his time has come.
Earlier this year, the Olympic bronze medallist launched his discus out to the second furthest mark in history. On any other day, it would have been a world record. Add to that Diamond League podiums and a 70-metre throw in Turkey and the season reads like a breakthrough.
But what has changed most is not the distance, but the man.
For much of his career, Denny has been his own fiercest critic. He’s made finals at the Olympic and world championship level but even when winning bronze in Paris last year, walked away unsatisfied, convinced there was more left in the circle.
That restless hunger pushed him to the cusp of greatness but also, at times, left him grasping.
“Even after the Ramona throw, I wondered if I’d ever be satisfied. Maybe I won’t, but that relentlessness is what makes athletes good.”
This year, though, the critic has softened. He’s still there, pushing and prodding, but Denny has learned to temper him with maturity.
“There’s a threshold,” he says.
“Enough intensity keeps you sharp but too much and you lose what you already had. These days I’m better at staying in the flow, enjoying what I do, and letting the big moments happen rather than forcing them.”
That shift has shaped his entire season. Rather than chasing training blocks across Europe, Denny chose the familiarity of home: the Queensland Academy of Sport, his coach Dale Stevenson, and the comfort of a life anchored by family. With his wife Mia expecting their first child in January, the decision carried both professional and personal weight.
“I miss home more now,” he admits.
“The varnish of being on the road has worn off. Being able to sleep in my own bed, train in my own gym and keep things simple – that’s what lets me relax and get into the flow. When I care too much, I strangle it. For me to throw far, I need to be loose, focused but relaxed.”
At 29, that balance feels like the missing piece of the puzzle. Once the athlete trying to wrestle every inch from the discus, he now trusts the rhythm, the work and his team around him.
“At the start of the year I had a really nice rhythm,” Denny said.
“We knew what worked and we stuck to it. This season has been about connecting with that, not overreaching, not trying to reinvent, just trusting what we have built.”
Despite calling himself an “old man” for enjoying his creature comforts, Denny insists he still feels most at ease when the pressure peaks.
“My happy place is a major championships when the heat is on. That’s exactly where I want to be. It’s where everything counts. I get a sense of calm because I know I’m right where I want to be, doing what I love.”
That composure will be vital in the Men’s Discus, which Denny calls “arguably the hardest event in track and field right now.”
The depth is so great that a 68-metre throw may not even make the podium.
“Everyone’s going to come in throwing fire,” he says. “So you can’t slack off. You’ve got to be ready for six throws, ready to respond. If you’re not switched on, you’ll get left behind and I know I’ll be ready.’
Like many athletes, he has already imagined the winning moment.
“I know what the throw looks like, what it feels like, even my reaction. I’ve visualized it many times, even this morning driving to training. I know it’s there. But it’s not about bragging rights, it’s about what it would mean to my family, my friends and my team. I want to start solidifying my career. I think I can be the best in the world and be a world champion.”
The hunger hasn’t gone, it’s simply matured. The critic is still there, but he is no longer consumed by it.
“I can appreciate it all later. Right now I just need to put my best foot forward and relax into the moment.”
By Sascha Ryner, Australian Athletics
Posted 10/09/2025
