Canvas & Ratio
Choose your destination platform format
Layout Template
Choose a content structure for your slides
Preset Themes
Typography & Sizing
Brand Kit Customization
AGENCYConfigure brand assets for headers & footers
Outro Slide CTA
Customize your closing call-to-action slide
Background Pattern
Build Your Carousel
Drag and drop any post card below onto a slide, or use the quick buttons to insert content/images instantly!
At the 1928 Olympics, women could run something longer than a sprint for the first time. They raced the 800. Disaster quickly ensued. Just about every paper reported the same thing: 5 women dropped out, Everyone else collapsed. It was chaos. And dangerous. As a result, women would barred from anything longer than a sprint for the next 28 years. ...It was all a lie. No one struggled... A single false story set back women's athletics for 3 decades. It teaches us about the power of a story:
Famed football coach Knute Rockne reported “It was not a very edifying spectacle to see a group of fine girls running themselves into a state of exhaustion.” John Tunis reported for the New York Evening Post, “Below us on the cinder path were 11 wretched women, 5 of whom dropped out before the finish, while 5 collapsed after reaching the tape.” The headlines screamed disaster, warning of permanent physical damage.
Here is the truth about that "disaster." None of the women actually collapsed or dropped out. All nine women who started the race finished it. The top three competitors even smashed the world record. Lina Radke-Batschauer won gold, but her victory was overshadowed by fabrication.
Contemporary film shows athletes tired, yes, but upright and composed, just like men after a hard race. It's an 800 after all...one of the toughest races in track. The catastrophic collapse existed only in print. They created a story that fit their bias rather than reporting the facts. A lie proved more influential than the footage in front of everyone’s eyes.
The false narrative stuck and the truth was buried. The 800m was eliminated from the Olympics until 1960. Women were restricted to sprints for three more decades. This same thinking delayed the women's Olympic marathon until 1984. A generation of opportunities was lost because of a story.
That’s the unfortunate power of a story. We’re wired to believe vivid narratives more than dry facts, especially when they match our biases. Once a story sticks, data becomes background noise. In this case, the story said women were too fragile for distance running, and people saw what they expected to see. Our brains would rather protect the story than update it.
Why did the lie stick so easily? Because it confirmed what society already wanted to believe. The narrative fit the "fragile" stereotype of women at the time. When a story aligns with our biases, we rarely check the facts. We accept the fiction because it feels comfortable.
We have to be cognizant of the narratives we accept and repeat. This applies to the stories society tells us and the ones we tell ourselves. False narratives limit potential and close doors. We have a responsibility to question the script. Don't let a made-up story define your reality.
We still do this today in quieter ways. A single bad game becomes “they can’t perform under pressure” and we ignore all the times they did. One injury turns into “their body is broken” even when they come back stronger. A narrative about mental toughness becomes an excuse to overlook anxiety, depression, or burnout. Stories become cages we forget we built.
The lesson from 1928 isn’t just about sexism in sport. It’s about stewardship of stories. We all have a responsibility to question the narratives we inherit and the ones we repeat. Ask: Is this actually what happened, or just what fits the script I already believe? Tell truer stories—about women, about toughness, about success, about yourself. Because the stories we choose don’t just describe our world; they decide who gets a chance to run.