What happens when you’re not feeling the long runs?

A scene from one of my long run routes. Frankly, I haven’t been feeling the long runs lately.

I was out hiking the other day when I noticed, in the distance, a familiar landmark along the river. It reminded me of my turnaround point while training for a half marathon last fall. I stood there, high on a wooded ridge, contemplating what went into training for that race.

One of the strongest thoughts that crossed my mind: I don’t miss those long runs.

That surprised me. I typically need a few weeks to let my mind settle and my body heal after a big race. But now it feels different. The thought of lacing ‘em up and heading out for a 12-mile, or 20-mile, training run makes me reflexively draw back, even though three months have passed.

That’s not how it’s supposed to be. For the past seven years, I’ve run a number of 15Ks, half marathons, 25Ks, a marathon, and other odd-distance races going anywhere from five to 25 miles, road and trail. But this year, I’m skipping one of my favorite trail races and bailed on another for the fourth straight year.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still running. The weekly Friday run group is a major blessing to me (we had three new runners Friday!), and I do plenty of training runs throughout the week. I’m also getting a kick out of 5Ks again.

And yes, the thought of knocking down another 26.2, or snagging a PR in the half, or even bagging my first ultra has some appeal. But the work it takes to get there, to perform how I want to perform, elicits a big “eh,” and I move on.

One side of me thinks this is wrong, reinforced by the popular notion that you must run more, run farther, run faster, run wilder trails and get more extreme.

When you first started running and met more experienced runners, they probably encouraged you to try something harder. Ran a 5K, you say? Train for the 15K. Got that done? You’re a step away from a half marathon, so sign up! Got a half under your belt? May as well go for the full. You’re a marathoner? Try an ultra. That first 5K must lead you to a hundred-miler and a buckle or you’ve failed as a runner.

So you dive into all things running. Buy the gear. Be the dirtbag. Grow the beard. Do all the things, and be sure to photograph your black toenails, bulging blisters and trail scrapes. And then, of course, share those images on the Trail and Ultra Running Facebook page or on your Instagram, because you have to show everyone how extreme you are, how much you’ve bought in, how much you really belong. Shoot, maybe you can even become a brand ambassador and get free stickers, a trucker’s hat or a T-shirt.

I haven’t done the ultra thing yet (and I won’t rule it out), but I’ve felt the pull of collecting the merit badges that seem to come with identifying as a runner. And believe me, I think the running community is awesome. I’ve met some incredible people through running. And yeah, I’ve worked with a brand or two.

But after a time, chasing all these gold stars seems like just another thing to do. I shouldn’t feel compelled to run every time I’m on a trail. Hiking is sometimes more fun. I should feel OK if I jump on a bike or blow myself out in the weight room instead of tallying the expected weekly mileage count. If I want to hoist barbells instead of piling up more junk miles, that shouldn’t be a big deal. I shouldn’t feel guilty if I’m not “living the life” according to whomever.

And maybe that’s why those long run memories aren’t pulling me toward another race. You’ve got to want to do this stuff. Otherwise, it’s just work. You can do a million different things to stay in shape, after all.

There’s satisfaction in a race well-run. Or even challenging yourself on the trail when no one is around. But in the end, it needs to be profitable. Not just in terms or fitness or accomplishment, but for what it does for you outside the merit badges of running culture.

I’m gonna race a 5K this weekend. I’m also going to do a lot of other things many of my runner friends won’t do. And they’re going to do a lot of things I’m not going to do (or, frankly, can’t do because they’re awesome at this running thing). And that’s fine by me.

Maybe by this summer, I’ll feel the pull or the PR, create another training program, and have another go at a longer race. Shoot, maybe I’ll go all in on the ultra. But if I don’t, I’m not going to sweat it.

Bob Doucette


Eight rules to make your fitness resolutions stick

January means people hitting the gym to create that “new you.” But if you’re going to make that happen, there are some rules you need to follow.

On New Year’s Day, I popped into my local gym for a quick lift before work. Being a holiday, I didn’t expect to find many people there, but it was surprisingly busy.

It’s a sign of things to come as people spent time reflecting on 2017 and figuring out what they want to do differently in 2018. Invariably, that includes losing weight and getting in shape for a lot of people. (It doesn’t help that the Holiday Eating Season, which runs from Thanksgiving until News Year’s Day, makes most of us fluffier.)

Habitual gym-goers bemoan the onslaught of New Year’s resolutioners who will soon clog our gyms and fitness centers. I don’t. Kudos to anyone who tries to improve their health, and welcome to the tribe. If this is you, I’d like to offer a few pointers before you embark on that venerable January tradition of “getting back in shape.”

Make a plan: Something is better than nothing when it comes to exercise, but having a goal – and a plan to achieve it – is always better. I see people walk in and try out machines, aimlessly looking for a pump or a burn, then walk out having achieved little. Do you want to lose weight? Get stronger? Build more mass? There are specific ways to do this. Choose you goal, then find a plan that will achieve that goal.

Stick to that plan: Training programs can be great. I’ve used many, and they all have one common feature: They work when I stick to it. Most training plans work in eight-to-12-week cycles. Some may be more. But if you see incremental success and then quit because you’re not magically worthy of the cover of a fitness mag, then you deserve the results you got. See it through. No one has achieved a goal by quitting early.

Be consistent: This sounds like “stick to the plan,” but there’s some nuance here. Being healthy, fit and strong is not just a result from doing one fitness program. It’s something that’s built over time. It’s a habit. Someone who has made fitness a lifestyle will likely use several exercise plans over the course of years to meet evolving goals. But the real takeaway is this: You can have a great workout once, then slack off for a week and it will have done you no good. But string together a few months of “average” workouts and the transformation will happen. One great moment of glory – a race completed, a PR on your deadlift, or a rockin’ summer beach bod – is built on a foundation of many months’ worth of “average” days in the gym, on the pavement or on the trail.

Leave the cellphone in your locker: I know, I know, our phones have tunes and timers and fitness apps. But most of the time I see people in the gym with their phone, they’re texting. Or reading some article. Or checking Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter or whatever else is pumping rapid-fire notifications their way. I’ve seen people sit on a bench for five to ten minutes texting between sets. I’ve seen gym selfies. I saw a guy last week eking out quarter-squats on a Smith Machine, one hand on the bar, one hand on his phone, face craned toward whatever it was that was so important that he couldn’t put the phone down and actually try a good lift. He’s a fixture at my gym, has maintained this behavior for years, and, not surprisingly, has never changed in physique or performance. He’s the same weak dude he’s always been. I’ve seen so much time wasted because people can’t free themselves from their phone for an hour. I never lift with my phone. It stays in the locker. There is no text or social media thingy that can’t wait. Need music? Get a music player. Need a timer? Buy one, or a watch. You came to work out, not to swipe right.

Be a good human: This entails a lot of things, but they’re easy to spell out. When at the gym, refrain from flirting or looking for dates. Put your weights away when you’re finished. Clean up the sweat you leave behind. Keep your advice to yourself unless asked (which almost never happens) and seek advice from trainers when you have questions. Don’t hog multiple stations. Don’t crowd other exercisers. Don’t stand right in front of the dumbbell rack. Don’t slam/drop weights. In general, do the things that are considerate of other exercisers and the gym staff. If you want more detail, check out these 11 rules of the Gym Rat Code.

Remember that you can’t out-train a bad diet: In body builder circles, it’s been said that success is 80 percent in the kitchen and 20 percent in the gym. I’d say that’s mostly true. Just because you’re exercising more doesn’t mean that you can eat whatever you want. Not if you want to succeed. Clean up that diet, watch your alcohol intake and give your body the nutrition it needs to make you healthier and stronger.

Don’t fret the scale: Use the mirror test instead. Too many people view the number on the scale as their only metric of fitness. Don’t fall into that trap. Your weight can fluctuate wildly from one day to the next. As you gain muscle, you might actually gain weight. But as time progresses, you’ll see a difference in how you look. The scale is one measure of progress, but a flighty one. There are others, like how much you can lift, how far/fast you can run, and how you look in the mirror.

And finally, get your rest: Proper sleep equals proper recovery. And recovery is where the magic happens. When you’re sleeping, your body is rebuilding your muscles to be stronger and better. If you short-change your rest, you’ll eventually short-circuit your fitness goals. Also, one day a week should be a rest day where you don’t train at all. Just chill, eat well, and recover. You don’t have to go full-blast every day. And yes, this means steering clear of those 30-day challenges and runstreaks. It might sound cool, but your rest is more important.

That’s the basics from me. Starting out on your fitness journey means taking that first step. But be sure to think beyond that and be in it for the long haul. These ideas will help you get there.

Bob Doucette

Seen on the run: Reminders from the past of why I run

We have these, right here in town. (U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service photo)

I remember the first time I saw an eagle in the wild.

No, it wasn’t on some adventure deep in the Rockies, or some other rugged mountain landscape. It was about six miles from home, in the middle of a city, and not far from the river that splits my community two.

Not 30 feet from the paved path I was running on, and overlooking the Arkansas River, there it was: A big, bald eagle, surveying the waters flowing by and likely looking for lunch swimming under the surface. It was one of the coolest and most random things I’d ever seen on a run, and to see it smack in the middle of Tulsa’s southern reaches made it that much more unreal. And yet there it was, in all of its regal glory, presiding over its domain. As it turns out, bald eagles have become a fixture along the river. You just have to know where to look.

More importantly, you have to be out there in the first place. If I hadn’t been on my weekly long run, I’d never have seen it at all.


I remember when I first started running more seriously, and how enamored I became with the little details I saw during even the shortest, simplest runs. I made a point to take my phone with me not to provide music or capture my pace, but to snap photos of how the downtown Tulsa skyline looked from a certain angle, or the way the glow of a sunset bathed the buildings in warm, fading light.

I’d come home and write notes about interesting people I saw, weird things I smelled and small epiphanies I had while I ran. I learned a lot about my city. One park I run through commemorates the 1921 Tulsa Race Riot, something that for many Tulsans was left out of their history lessons despite being the scene of the single worst outburst of racial violence in American history. Years later, I still run through that park, reminded that we’ve yet to get past racial divides.

Night running scene.

There were other details of the city to be gleaned from these runs, too. On a couple of occasions, I’d run at night. An urban landscape has an entirely different feel at night than it does during the day. Light from street lamps catches broken glass on the pavement and in alleys, making them glisten in a harsh sort of way. It’s harder to see people’s faces, thus more difficult to discern intent. But no one ever bothered me. A smoky bar served up whiskey shots next door to a private workshop where a bearded, tattooed fella in a plain white tank tinkered under the hood of a classic car. Nighttime in the city, away from the “safer” venues, is just as alive as it is in the day. It just feels more mysterious, if not risky.

And many times, I’d notice people. The suits and the slackers mixed at different paces, and transients often barely budged. On one street, I’d spot someone talking to himself while walking briskly, totally focused on whatever conversation was happening via Bluetooth. Around the corner, someone else, slumped against a wall, might be wallowing in his own puke, having drank too much bourbon the hour before. Down the street, a tattooed pizzeria worker sat out by the curb, getting one last smoke in before his break was over.

I see scenes like this every day when I run. It fascinated me for a long time, me being a guy who until that time had spent a lifetime living in suburbs and small towns, far from anything one might define as urban.

As the years have gone by, however, all of this has become normal. I still see cool stuff, but more often any run is more of me and the run itself, battling through fatigue, the elements, injuries and whatever else is motivating me or telling me to stop. And as I age, the chorus of inner voices telling me to bag it seems to get bigger. And louder.


Last week was one of the lousiest weeks of training I’ve had in a while. Fall is here, but Oklahoma rarely pays attention to the calendar. It was just another hot, humid week, and if you run much you know that heat and humidity sucks all the fun out of running. If I didn’t have a couple of races to train for, I’m not sure I’d even have bothered.

But we got a break this week. On Monday, cloud cover. Blessed cloud cover. Eighty-eight degrees in direct sun (plus humidity) is one thing. But 88 and cloudy is another. As in better.

I was out on a simple four-mile out-and-back run through a neighborhood that might be generously classified as “working class.” It’s on the upswing, but there is plenty of industrial desperation still waiting to be remedied here. Not that it bothers me – that sort of environment is way more interesting than any suburban scene I’ve ever trodden.

Anyway, I ran by a house where a fella was on the porch, working on some sort of machine, and he had his tunes on full blast: ‘80s funk and R&B. I ran past, reached my turnaround place and headed back. I’d pass his house again, this time from the same side of the street. On deck: Rockwell’s “Somebody’s Watching me,” featuring none other than the King of Pop. I’m not sure why, but when I got in earshot, it gave me an extra bounce, and I made sure to let the dude know that I wish I had his tunes with me the rest of the way. We both got a laugh out of that.

Getting some miles on the trails. I see cool stuff out here. (Clint Green photo)

A day later, on a six-miler, I was on trails close to the Arkansas River again. I didn’t see them, but I heard them: eagles. Somewhere close by, the master raptors were calling out, and would likely be on the hunt for more fish soon. It got me thinking about all the other wildlife I’ve seen, usually when trail running through nearby wooded hills. Squirrels and rabbits, hurrying away from the path. An armadillo ambling along, rooting through the leaves for bugs. And on one blessed run, a massive owl that was silently gliding below the canopy, then extending its wings to make a full stop just a few feet away from where I ran. One of the most majestic things I’ve ever seen.

That’s when I was reminded why I still do this. Races are fun, and great motivation to get in shape. But for me, there’s no finish line or medal worth the weeks and months of training that it takes to finish a long-distance race. Instead, it’s the things I encounter along the way.

The random faces that make a city live and breathe.

The myriad of colors of a cool evening sunset.

The smell of fall from decaying foliage on the forest floor.

And timely reminders from the past, be it the cry of a regal bird of prey, or the music pumping from the speakers owned by someone getting their funk on during a warm autumn afternoon. Any finish line glory is gravy after that.

Bob Doucette

Six hot-weather training tips for runners

This guy will make your outdoor training a little tougher in the summer. (Wikimedia Commons photo)

Summer is rapidly approaching, and it’s a time when a lot of us are thinking about vacations, backyard cookouts and time at the pool.

But for the running crowd, it’s also an opportunity to take advantage of extra daylight hours to get in our miles.

One problem: The heat. Most places will begin seeing temperatures rise significantly within the next couple of weeks, and things really get cooking in July and August. Fun in the sun is great and all, but when you’re training, heat can wreck you. It can beat you and your workouts into submission, and if you’re not careful, cause serious health problems.

But if we only went out in perfect conditions, there is a good chance we’d achieve almost nothing. So my advice is to make peace with summer and learn a few things about hot-weather training to get by, at least until things cool off in the fall.

So here are six tips for training in the heat:

Hydrate. A lot. Before you go to bed, drink some water. When you get up, drink some more. And throughout the day, be drinking more water. Bring some with you (hand-held water bottle, hip belt or hydration pack) or be sure your route has drinking fountains available. Don’t wait till you crash to stop for a water break. Heat-related illnesses and dehydration are no joke. Is a gallon a day excessive? Not if it’s summer and you’re outside training.

Shade your face. A ball cap will help you keep a little shade on your face and direct sun off your head. If it’s a moisture-wicking cap, it will help you stay cool.

If you can, pick routes with trees. I love trail running, and many of my trails are in wooded areas. You’ll lose some of the breeze in the woods, but the shade will help keep you cooler.

Pace yourself. Your body will not be able to maintain the same intensity at 98 degrees as it does at 78 degrees or 58 degrees. But you will still be working hard, and that’s what you’re going for — putting in some hard work. Which leads me to the next point…

Watch your heart rate. Whether it’s just listening to your body or wearing a heart-rate monitor, those beats-per-minute will be very telling in terms of how hard your body is working. In the winter, you burn more calories because your body is trying hard to keep your core temperature up. But in the summer, it’s fighting — and losing — the battle to keep you cool. If your pulse is pounding in your temples at 180 bpm or more, maybe it’s time to slow down and walk a couple of blocks. No shame in that.

And finally, and this might go without saying, pick a cooler time of day to run. This means running pre-dawn or after sunset during the summer, but those hours will be cooler and easier to manage.

So there you have it. Use these ideas during the hot months. Or succumb to the treadmill. Your choice.

Bob Doucette

The strength experiment, part 1: Presses

My last post was designed to be an introduction to this little strength experiment I did. I told you that I wanted to focus on four main movements: the press, the pull, the squat and the hip-hinge.

Today we’re going to talk about the press.

It seems that only until recently, there has been a decades-long devaluation of overhead pressing in favor of things like the bench press. You know, the whole, “How much ya bench?” question of meatheads everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, chest pressing is a good thing. But overhead pressing is better.

Personally, I suck at both. But I quickly learned why the standing overhead press in particular is so valuable. The act of pressing a weight over your head requires a lot of muscles working together: your shoulders, your upper back, your triceps and your core. Basically, almost your entire upper body.

Bench pressing is great, too, because it works those big muscles in your chest. But because you’re on a bench, the muscles are more isolated and the core doesn’t get much work. For that reason, I think the overhead press should be emphasized as much as any sort of chest press.

I also like to add some other exercises to support the muscles used in these movements. But they are secondary exercises and should never replace the main movements. Support exercises can isolate muscle groups and even improve postural alignment, something we’ll get into in a bit.

I divided these into two different workouts: A chest/triceps day, and a shoulders day. Here’s how it broke down:


Flat barbell bench press: 1×10, 1×8, 1×6 (escalating weight with each set); 3×8, close-grip barbell bench press (grip with hands about 18 inches apart).

Dumbbell incline press: 3×8 (escalating weight)

Single-arm cable press-down, 3×10

Cable push-down, 3×10

Dips, 3×10


Band pull-aparts, 3×10

Standing overhead barbell press, 3×8 (escalating weight)

Dumbbell lateral delt raises, 3×12 (escalating weight)

Dumbbell overhead presses, 3×8 (escalating weight)

Cable face pulls, 3×10 (escalating weight)

So, a couple of notes to explain all this: I added the close-grip bench as a way to work the triceps more. The cable exercises for the triceps are also there to help build the type of support I needed to do a good press. The dips are great for your chest and your triceps (though do your dips on a dip bar, not on a bench).

With the shoulders, I want to say that two of the most important exercises on there are the first and last ones mentioned. The band pull-aparts are there to activate (or warm up) the shoulders and upper back at the beginning. The face-pulls work the same muscles at the end. There is a good reason for this: Chest presses, plus all of the other daily activities that emphasize the anterior (front) side of your body (think typing at a computer, driving your car, or messing with your phone) tend to make our shoulders sink forward. This is how shoulder injuries start. You need to strengthen the muscles on the back side of your shoulders to open up your chest and pull those shoulders back to prevent injury and allow for better muscular development all around.

I cannot overemphasize how important this is, not only for shoulder-joint health, but also in overall athletic performance. To wit: If your shoulders are pulled back into a natural position, it opens up your chest. When your chest is opened up, you can take in larger volumes of air when you breathe. Think that might carry over into endurance activities? Yup. It does.

Lastly, it’s OK to only have one day a week dedicated to these splits. Your shoulders are getting a lot of work on the chest/tricep day, and your triceps are getting plenty of work on the shoulder days. If you want more work for your chest, incorporate some push-ups into your weekly routines a few days a week.

My chest/tricep workout is the second lift of the week, and the shoulder workout comes later in the week. With each workout, add in some core moves – three sets each of planks and dead bugs, two of my favorites. At the end of the session, I’d run anywhere from 2 to 3.5 miles at a solid pace, or if I’m really looking to gas out, do some 8x400s at race pace.

In the next installment, we’ll tackle leg day. Yup, we’ll be squatting. A bunch.

Bob Doucette

My strength experiment: What I learned during a season in the weight room

There is a gym I go to with some charts blown up into poster form, and at the bottom of these charts is a short sentence written in small type with a very big message: “Being stronger makes you harder to kill.”

It goes on to qualify this, saying that the stronger you are, the harder it is for things like disease, accidents, the elements and even other people, to kill you. Makes sense to me.

Fitness is a major part of my life. I’m not strictly a runner, and not strictly a weight lifter. I incorporate both (plus things like cycling) in hopes of preventing mushball status.

This past fall, I wanted to try something different. Back in the days before running became a thing for me, I used to lift a bunch of weights and find cardio in other forms of exercise. When I became a runner, I worked to find a balance between the two. But after the end of the fall race season, I chose to focus on strength for a few months. I was OK in terms of strength, but I knew I could be better if I put in a little extra work. I wouldn’t stop running entirely, but the weekly mileage would drop significantly while I emphasized more time in the gym.

In this case, it was about getting back to basics. No fancy programs, no weird new exercises, nothing exotic at all. Just a workout program based on four basic strength movements: The press, the pull, the squat and the hip hinge.

If you know what these entail, you’re way ahead of the game. If not, let me define them more precisely…

Press: This is picking up a weight and lifting it over your head. This could be a barbell or dumbbells. Variations could also include flat bench or incline bench presses, but the most important press here is the overhead press. Presses work your shoulders, triceps, upper back and, in some variations, the chest.

Pull: Pulls include pull-ups, chin-ups, cable pull variations (lat pulls, seated cable rows, etc), barbell and dumbbell rows, and so forth. With these, you’re training the muscles in your entire back, your biceps, and to a lesser extent, your shoulders.

Squat: Most people know what this is. Starting from a standing position, you squat down, bending at the knees and the hips, while keeping your back straight. Barbell back squats, front squats, goblet squats, and so on. The squat is a full-body exercise, but the primary muscles used are the glutes, quadriceps and hamstrings. Truly strong people squat well.

Hip-hinge:  The hip-hinge, simply put, is the action of bending at the hips, and with a straight back, powering yourself to an upright position with your hips. If that sounds weird, just watch someone deadlift. A deadlift is a hip-hinge. So are Romanian deadlifts, kettlebell swings and hip thrusters. Hip-hinge exercises are full-body in nature, but they primarily work the posterior chain. Posterior chain muscles include the entire back (from the base of the neck all the way to the tailbone), glutes and hamstrings. Like the squat, a truly strong person will be strong in hip-hinge movements. Deadlifts also work your quads, and through the act of holding something heavy, strengthen all the muscles used in your grip.

There are a bunch of exercises that support these movements, and I’ll get to that in time. But these are where my focus was. If you can master them, you’ll build a strong, athletic body that can be good at just about anything, and that includes activities that most people don’t associate with weight training, like running, hiking, backpacking or even climbing.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, for a few reasons. This was a bit of an experiment, to see what I could accomplish in four months. I wanted to see what went right and what went wrong, and why. And if I learned anything worth sharing, to pass it along. Some things went very “right.” And that was exciting. Some things went wrong, and for the most part, that’s on me.

Another reason: Strength is often something that is undervalued in the endurance community, and similarly, neglected by a lot of people who are focused on the outdoors. Personally, I think anyone can benefit from being stronger. It doesn’t mean you must be a body builder or a power lifter (those guys usually don’t do well in our chosen activities, mostly because size can be prohibitive of endurance), but I’d go back to that poster I mentioned earlier: Being stronger makes you harder to kill.

So over the coming days, I’m going to post about this and pass along what I’ve learned. And in turn, I’m more than pleased to hear from any of you who have undertaken similar efforts. Stay tuned …

Bob Doucette

Should there be weight classes in running? Four arguments against it

I'm no lightweight runner, that's for sure. But I'm not going to seek special treatment because of it.

I’m no lightweight runner, that’s for sure. But I’m not going to seek special treatment because of it.

An interesting discussion popped up on the Trail and Ultra Running Facebook page, attached to a link that asked the question: Should marathons be divided into weight classes?

The reasoning was that many other sports have weight classes. So why not long-distance running? The writer used the analogy of boxing, and plenty of people who commented on the link also mentioned sports like mixed-martial arts, competitive weightlifting, wrestling, and so forth. Arguments for more weight classes seemed to go like this: Smaller, thinner people have a physical advantage over larger people in marathons. So why not split ‘em up?

It should be noted that some races offer “Clydesdale” and “Athena” classes for men and women who toe the line with more size than the smaller competitors. I fit nicely within the Clydesdale ranks, and my times show it. I’m mid-pack at best when I’m trim and in good shape. There’s no way I can compete with the front-pack runners who rarely weigh more than 135 pounds.

I fault the article for saying running and boxing are both “combative sports” (they’re not). But the general question is a decent one to ponder.

You’d think that someone like me, who usually enters races at 184-190 pounds, would embrace more weight divisions in endurance events. But I don’t. My thoughts:

Combat sports and weight lifting use different methods of athleticism to succeed than running. You might be thinking, “duh!”, but this needs to be explained. Boxing, wrestling, MMA and powerlifting use force and power against either an opponent (another fighter) or an object (a barbell). It takes mass to move mass, so naturally larger lifters can lift more weight, and when pitting two, equally skilled combatants against each other, the larger one has an advantage in terms of how much potential force can be behind a punch, kick or throw. With running, your energy is applied to moving only yourself against the friction of the road, an incline, or the wind. How well you do this is affected by your weight, but is more affected by your conditioning, and your build relative to your stature. If the latter two are adapted correctly for the sport, weight becomes a nonissue as it will automatically conform to the demands of high-level competition.

Weight-classed sports are designed in a way to accommodate a person’s genetics in terms of size. This matters less in running, because “size” is more under the athlete’s control. It would make no sense to put a 160-pound boxer in the ring with a dude who weighs 220. Similarly, you’d never expect a 120-pound powerlifter to lift as much as someone who weighs 250. These people’s sizes are often a component of their genetics. This happens with runners, too, but here’s the thing: If a runner wants to have a build that is conducive to running fast, a lot of that is under his or her control. Diet and training can make someone fast and efficient regardless of being 5-foot-4 or 6-foot-2. There are genetic and hormonal factors that can come into play for some people, but for most runners, your size relative to your sport are determined by you.

Distance running is already split up into numerous classes. Endurance sports don’t need to have a bunch of weight divisions because the fields are already broken up into age groups and gender. Go to any big-city marathon, and you have somewhere around 8 or more age groups per gender. Age makes some sense, as that is a major factor that the runner can’t change. Splitting up into even more categories seems to dilute what it means to be a “winner” and lessen the significance of podium finishes. If we do this, what’s next? Height classes to help shorter runners? We could keep going down this rabbit hole until we get a few dozen podium photo ops per race.

Running is already one of those sports that rewards far more than just winning. Many races give out medals just for crossing a finish line. I have no problem with that (I treasure my mid-pack finisher medals), but if we’re going to make the podium more accessible by adding new classifications, we’re watering down the significance of what it takes to win. Though I compare my times to friends, I mostly compete against myself. I realize that if I want to have a chance at winning, I’d need to drastically change my training, diet and lifestyle. I’d need to be about 60 pounds lighter to be fast enough to challenge high-performing runners. But I like barbecue and tacos, and I don’t want to lose so much muscle that my strength goes away. With that in mind, I know I’ll never be a podium finisher. And I’m OK with that. Along the same line, I do not and will never expect any race director and athletic organization to write up new rules to make it to where someone like me, who won’t commit to elite-level training, reaps the rewards of an elite-level finish by stepping on a platform and holding a trophy that looks and feels like that of someone who is actually elite.

So those are my thoughts. How about you? Yay or nay on weight classes? Holler in the comments.

Bob Doucette