In the blue corner, out of Ethiopia, is Kenenisa Bekele. The greatest ever on the track and in cross country – a pocket-sized, smooth-striding, richly talented star who proved the permanency of his class at last month’s London Marathon, finishing second in 2:04:15 just two months shy of his 42nd birthday.

In the past week, both were selected for the Paris Olympics, which was no guarantee given the depth of talent in each country and the regular selection clangers their federations throw up.

Both men are now past their best. Both are ageing but raging, bravely, against the dying of the light. But in the city of light this summer, both have the chance to splash one last dollop of greatness across the Olympic canvas.

It’s a fitting place for the grand finale, the city where they both won their first global track titles in 2003. Bekele was 21 at the time and in that world 10,000m final, he showed Haile Gebrselassie, the emperor of Ethiopian distance running, that there was a new king in town.

A week later, in the 5000m, he faced 1500m champion Hicham El Guerrouj of Morocco and most figured it’d be a head-to-head duel. But they didn’t account for Kipchoge outkicking them both in a race widely heralded as one of the greatest ever.

In the years after, with both focused on the track, Bekele was the king, rewriting the 5000m and 10,000m world records, winning three Olympic golds and four more world outdoor titles. Kipchoge didn’t quite live up to his early promise on the track, winning Olympic 5000m bronze behind Bekele in 2004 and silver in 2008. But later, when they took to the roads, he shone brightest, winning 11 Marathon Majors between 2014 and 2023 and twice breaking the world record.

Kipchoge is the better marathoner but can struggle on hilly courses, and the one in Paris features vicious inclines that look plucked from an Alpine stage of the Tour de France.  The Kenyan was at his peerless best in pancake-flat Berlin last September, winning in 2:02:42, but looked off-colour in Tokyo in February, finishing just 10th in 2:06:50. Bekele, as an 11-time world cross country champion, will relish the hills. His form is recklessly inconsistent, but a reignition of his brilliance is never more a training block away.

They come from similar, humble beginnings, both brought up in farming backgrounds in the thin air of the Rift Valley. In 2018, I spent a week in Addis Ababa, visiting some of the main training sites on the outskirts of the capital where Bekele and thousands of other Olympic hopefuls rise early and run often.

At the time, Bekele’s career appeared to have burnt out or faded away, with injuries, a lack of discipline and the distraction of business ventures all stripping him of his greatness. I stopped for a drink in the lobby of the hotel he owned, and from speaking to various folk around the running scene, the consensus was that his best days were behind him. But a year later, he roared back to life, showing up leaner than he’d been for years at the 2019 Berlin Marathon, clocking an astonishing 2:01:41, two seconds shy of Kipchoge’s then world record. An industry insider who’s close to both once told me that when it comes to natural talent, Bekele has the far bigger helping. But when it comes to discipline, Kipchoge is king, bringing an obsessive-compulsive order to everything he does – day in, day out, year after year.

In October 2021, I got to see that firsthand, spending three days at his training camp in Kaptagat. I watched two of Kipchoge’s workouts – a 13-mile track session and a hard 30km long run – and joined him for one of his recovery runs. His routine is mind-numbingly repetitive, Kipchoge running 220km a week for 16 weeks before each major marathon, with two sessions of strength work using resistance bands and a simple but nutritious diet. Rise, run and rest. Rinse and repeat.

“What made me stay (at the top) for a long time is self-discipline,” Kipchoge told me. “I set my priorities right. I try to say no to anything which I know is not beneficial.” 

Of course, the idea that East African success was built only on natural talent and hard work has long been shattered, and so it was best to go into those trips with eyes wide open. Kipchoge has never been one to get offended when I’ve broached the doping topic with him, and he wasn’t that week. “The worst thing ever is if you use drugs,” he told me. “If you use a shortcut, even if you perform the way you performed, you will not sleep in a good way.” 

What does he say to non-believers? “I tell those who are really, truly sceptical – they need to see our training. They need to see what we are doing for the whole week.” 

Having done just that, the impression was that it was a difficult workload, yes, but not the kind that circumvents the natural laws of recovery – the first major red flag you look for when assessing the legitimacy of a training group.

Of course, we can’t know for sure if Kipchoge or Bekele dabbled in the dark arts, but then again nor do we know if Messi, Ronaldo, Nadal or LeBron did. The fact their brilliance has stood the test of time in an era when the Athletics Integrity Unit has taken a scorched-earth policy to rooting out cheats in that part of the world is certainly reassuring.

As such, amid understandable caution, it’s reasonable to enjoy Kipchoge and Bekele for what they are: two of the greatest runners, and sportspeople, of all time. With both men having a ticket to the big dance, the stage is set for a definitive final act.

There’s a real chance neither wins a medal in Paris and if that’s the case, off they’ll gently go into the good night, their greatness still secure. But there’s also a chance they end up head-to-head, up front, in those climactic final miles, an Olympic gold awaiting whoever’s strongest.

Back in 1986, when Kipchoge and Bekele were taking their first steps in running, zipping around their family farms, the movie Highlander was released. It’s about a battle for immortality and as Paris draws near, pitting two all-time greats against each other, it's an appropriate time to rehash its famous tagline: There can be only one.