When , one of the first things she talked about in her post-race speech was period tracking.

“For this race, a lot of things were actually coming together,” she said in her finish-line interview after the win. “So for example, I was in the first half of my menstrual cycle, and I always told myself, once this happens on a world championship race day, this is the chance. I feel so much stronger than in the second [half].”

It’s not the first time Philipp called out her menstrual cycle as a factor in her triathlon success. After setting an Ironman record of 8:18:20 at Hamburg in 2022, period tracking was a “game changer” in optimizing her training and nutrition.

Does this mean all triathletes with a period should track their menstrual cycles with the same attention to detail as power meter data, nutritional intake, and sleep? Could period tracking really help athletes crack the code for a PR?

If you spend any time on social media, you probably assume the answer is “yes.” Women’s health and performance – specifically, as it pertains to hormones, is a hot topic right now. There’s no shortage of influencers and self-proclaimed experts offering advice on how to use period tracking to optimize athletic performance, but actual credentialed experts proffering detailed advice and protocols? Those are harder to come by. That’s because the science of period tracking for athletic performance is in its infancy, says Dr. Kelly McNulty, sports physiology researcher at Northumbria University and founder of .

It’s great that we’ve had this boom in menstrual cycle tracking,” says McNulty. “Menstrual cycle tracking is more common now, and it’s advocated for, especially within elite environments, as something athletes should be doing. There’s a tendency that everyone’s a female health expert now, but on the flip side of that, the science isn’t quite there yet. We don’t want to be giving bad advice off low-quality research.”

That’s not to say period tracking is a bad idea – only that athletes should beware of one-size-fits-all advice on how women perform during certain phases of the cycle. Let’s take a deeper look at how to make period tracking work for you, whether you’re just starting out in triathlon or an Ironman World Champion.

What the science says about period tracking for athletes

As Triathlete has written about before, . The major contributing factor to this dearth of information is a belief that it’s simply “too complicated” to study women – their monthly menstrual cycle and resulting hormonal fluctuations skew otherwise straightforward results. The lack of research on this topic means data collected on males is extrapolated to females, and female athletes usually train based on recommendations made for male athletes.

McNulty was part of a 2021 research team that reviewed more than 5,000 studies across six popular sport and exercise journals, , with as few as 6% of studies focusing exclusively on females. Ìęthat even fewer studies looked at women by life stage – a particularly “invisible” cohort is women going through midlife, perimenopause, and menopause. Simply put, the science on women isn’t that great, and though it is an area of increasing interest for researchers, McNulty says it will still be five to 10 years before there’s a robust body of high-quality research.

Still, McNulty warns, “Everybody’s an expert now. And so everyone’s coming out saying that they will tailor your training plan to your menstrual cycle, and it sounds too good to be true in a lot of ways. We don’t want to come in and tell people, ‘No, this is a bad idea,’ but we do feel really strongly about making sure that people know that if you’re paying for someone to do that, and they’re claiming they’re an expert, that nobody’s really fully an expert on that, except for the people who are currently doing the research – and even they don’t have all the answers.”

There are, of course, some already-published studies that indicate hormone fluctuations aren’t a complication; they’re actually key to understanding and optimizing athletic performance in women. Hormones like estrogen and progesterone rise and fall throughout a woman’s month-long menstrual cycle, influencing everything from how she performs in training or racing to how she recovers. have found hormones may affect ligament laxity, suggesting injury risk may increase at various stages of the cycle. There is also evidence that when hormones fluctuate, so too does a woman’s body’s ability to maintain proper hydration levels, metabolize nutrients, and regulate body temperature – unique factors critical to female athletic performance.

Should you avoid period-tracking apps for athletes?

These studies, plus a growing demand for women-specific health advice, have led to an influx of period-tracking apps for athletes, which help women monitor where they are in their monthly cycles. Some apps even recommend what kind of training to do (or avoid) and when.

Though such apps can be enlightening for female athletes looking for insights on their individual physiology, that there currently isn’t enough research to make standard recommendations related to period tracking and sport performance.

That doesn’t mean that period tracking is a waste of time; only that experts aren’t at the point to confidently say “on X day of the cycle, women are best off doing Y workout and recovering with Z food.” McNulty says the information period-tracking apps give is often generic, and given the variety in menstrual cycle experiences among women, the information presented might not always be suited to the specific athlete. Some with putting highly-sensitive health information into such apps.

While women wait for the scientific community to endorse a substantial body of evidence, there are still things athletes can do, McNulty says: ”If you are a female athlete or a coach/practitioner supporting a female athlete, then I recommend that you dive into the research and learn all you can about the potential effects hormones can have on women’s physiology. But do this with a critical eye.”

McNulty also says women can develop their own “bespoke athlete guidelines,” where each athlete uses her own expertise of her own body to identify patterns in performance. “When you learn more about your own menstrual cycle – what symptoms you experience and how you perform, train, and recover on certain days – you can use your knowledge and understanding to determine what bits of the research might apply to you and which don’t. From there you can begin to tweak and adjust things to maximize or manage performance/training depending where you are in your cycle,” she says.

It’s in these individual experiences of the menstrual cycle – not the advice of an app – where the biggest insights lie. “Every woman is different, and the research is only the beginning from which we can build our individualized content from,” McNulty says. “But this only happens if we understand our bodies first.”

How to track your period as an athlete

Tracking the menstrual cycle can be as simple as circling a day on a paper calendar or marking an X in your smartphone on the first day of your menstrual flow, or period. The menstrual cycle is counted from the first day of one period up to the first day of your next period.

The average menstrual cycle is 28 days long, but each woman is different. Some women’s periods are so regular that they can predict the day and time that the next one will start. Other women experience menstrual cycles that vary in length. Medically, periods are considered “regular” if they usually come every 24 to 38 days.

That menstrual cycle is further divided into four phases:

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Rick Hoyt, who rose to fame as half of the father-son endurance duo “Team Hoyt,” has died of respiratory complications at age 61.

“As so many knew, Rick along with our father, Dick, were icons in the road race and triathlon worlds for over 40 years and inspired millions of people with disabilities to believe in themselves, set goals, and accomplish extraordinary things,” said the Hoyt Foundation in a announcing Rick’s passing. He was preceded in death by his father in 2021.

The pair made headlines in the endurance world starting in 1977, when Dick began pushing Rick in a wheelchair at local road races. Rick, diagnosed with cerebral palsy at birth, was paralyzed in all four limbs and utilized a computer to communicate.

The father-son team’s first race together was a local five-mile charity run benefiting a lacrosse player who had been paralyzed in an accident. Rick told his dad that he wanted to run the race, and Dick advocated to make it happen, kicking off the pair’s legendary endurance sports career.

“Dad, when we run, I feel like my disability disappears,” Rick said after their first race. Together, they made it their mission to race as much as possible. The two conquered over 1,100 endurance events worldwide, including 36 Boston Marathon finishes, countless local 5K and 10K races, more than 70 marathons total, and multiple Ironman triathlons.

The duo’s final Boston Marathon together , and Rick’s was the 2017 Boston Marathon, in which he was pushed by Bryan Lyons.

Dick and Rick used endurance sports as a platform for acceptance and inclusion. In addition to changing perceptions about athletes with disabilities, Rick worked with his mother, Judy, to change the laws of education so that Rick could receive an education alongside non-disabled peers. He went on to graduate with a degree in special education from Boston College, and later worked at his alma mater helping to develop communication technologies for people with disabilities.

The Boston Marathon has long been a special race for the father and son duo, and they were recognized by the Boston Athletic Association (B.A.A.) with the Patriot Award in 2006. The Patriot Award celebrates an “individual, group, or organization that is patriotic, philanthropic, and inspirational, and fosters goodwill and sportsmanship,”

In 2013, Dick and Rick were , or the “Excellence in Sport Performance Yearly” awards, with the Jimmy V. Perseverance Award, which recognizes an individual—or pair of individuals—who are determined to reach their goals and inspire others to do the same.

Today, the Boston Marathon grants a “Rick and Dick Hoyt Award” each April to “someone who exhibits the spirit of Team Hoyt through advocacy and inclusion,” the B.A.A. shared via their .

Dave McGillivray, who has been the race director for the Boston Marathon for 22 years, shared his emotions on Rick’s passing via an :

“Today we lost one of the most inspirational figures that the running community has ever known. Rick Hoyt has motivated and inspired so many throughout his years of running with his father Dick Hoyt. Rick will be dearly missed, and the impact he has had on others will always be remembered.”

 

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Dick and Rick’s legacy will continue to live on through the Team Hoyt Foundation, which “aspires to build the individual character, self-confidence, and self-esteem of America’s disabled young people through inclusion in all facets of daily life.”

Learn more about the Team Hoyt Foundation .

Special thanks to Susan Lacke at Triathlete for .Ìę

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Some triathletes with disabilities race with human teammates for support. An athlete with a vision impairment, for example, may swim and run while tethered to a sighted athlete and then ride a tandem bike with a guide. Another athlete with cerebral palsy might race with a partner who pushes a racing wheelchair.

For some athletes with disabilities, that teammate has four legs and fur. Service animals can significantly improve the safety and quality of life for people with disabilities, and the offers certain protections for people who require the assistance of a service dog.

But how does the role of a service dog fit into a triathlon training or racing environment? The question came up at the recent USA Triathlon Together We Thrive Summit on diversity, equity, inclusion, and access. Here, we summarize the insights of Keri Serota, executive director of and athletes with disabilities coordinator for the Bank of America Chicago Marathon, and Chris Murphy, ADA specialist with Ìęa member of the U.S. Paracycling National Team, and two-time Paralympian.

Related:

What Is a Service Dog?

Under the ADA, a service dog is a canine that has been individually trained to perform tasks or do work for someone with a disability.

“For example, somebody who’s blind, there’s the classic seeing eye dog, who can provide the way finding for the blind person,” Serota says. “But dogs can also do a lot of other things. For a person with epilepsy, a service animal can be trained to understand the certain signals that their handler’s body is giving to be able to actually warn that person that they’re about to have a seizure. They will perform tasks such as jumping up on them and licking their face to say, ‘Hey, get safe. You’re going to have a seizure in just a moment.’”

Service dogs can be utilized for a number of physical and mental disabilities, including blindness, deafness, multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, arthritis, and post-traumatic stress disorder. Service dogs that are trained to aid people with these disabilities are protected by the ADA, meaning they can go almost anywhere their person goes—even into most places with ordinances that ban pets from entering (such as restaurants or hospitals).

Do Emotional Support Animals Count as Service Animals?

The most important element in defining a service dog is that they have been trained to perform a task directly related to a person’s disability, such as alerting a deaf person. Dogs that generally help keep people calm or provide a sense of well-being—also known as emotional support animals—do not have this specific training. They are not the same as service animals and as a trained service dog.

“The ADA says a support animal is nothing more than a pet,” Murphy says. “It’s just something that makes you happy just by being there. It doesn’t actually do anything, though. So that’s the difference between a service animal and a support animal, is that actual work or task has to be performed by the animal.”

If a business or event is unsure about whether a dog is a service animal or emotional support animal, they are allowed to ask two questions:

1. Is this dog required because of a disability?
2. What task or work is this dog trained to perform?

It is not legal to ask about the person’s disability or request to see medical documentation.

It’s crucial that people do not claim an emotional support dog is a service animal. In addition to being against the law, misrepresenting an untrained animal as a service dog can create a stigma against true and necessary service animals.

Can I Race with My Service Dog?

Some running races allow service dogs to participate. There are service dogs completing 5Ks, obstacle course races, and even marathons alongside their humans. But that doesn’t mean all races allow service animals—nor are they required to.

Though the ADA allows service animals to enter most public places, there are exceptions. This is what is known as “fundamental alterations.” The ADA does not require organizations to modify policies, practices, or procedures if doing so would “fundamentally alter” the nature of the goods, services, programs, or activities provided to the public. In other words, if having a service animal present would disrupt the event or cause a safety hazard, race directors are allowed to refuse the animal.

The race cannot refuse the person with a disability, however. They still need to provide some form of accommodation for that athlete, Serota says. “We do allow an athlete who is visually impaired to have up to two guide runners at a marathon distance race,” she says. “One year, we got a request from somebody who wanted their guide dog to guide them through the marathon. That conflicted with our policy. We weren’t denying them accommodation; it’s just the accommodation we offered was a human guide, but not a dog.”

Race directors can also remove a previously approved service dog from the course at any time if the animal starts behaving badly. For everyone’s safety, service dogs need to be highly trained to perform their tasks without disturbing or harming others in public. “If it’s out of control, if it’s not housebroken, if it’s barking incessantly, they can be asked to leave,” Murphy says. “Animals should be trained in basic obedience. If they’re not behaving in a service animal way, then you can ask the animal to leave, but not the person.”

Can I Bring My Service Dog to a Triathlon?

It’s less likely that a service animal will be allowed to race alongside their person at a triathlon. In addition to the obvious health and safety concerns of having a dog in an open-water swim or running alongside a bike, there is also the consideration of whether the animal can actually perform the task while doing such activities.

“One of the examples that comes up pretty frequently in our office is somebody wanting to bring their dog into the swimming pool. If the dog can’t perform a task in the pool, the dog doesn’t belong in the pool,” Murphy says. “People with service animals don’t necessarily have the right to bring a dog into a pool unless they can honestly say that the dog can perform that work or tasks they’re trained to do within the pool.”

I’m a Race Director and Unsure How to Handle Questions About Service Dogs at My Event. Who Can I Talk To?

There are many resources for making races accessible to people with disabilities. A good place to start is theÌę. You may also contact yourÌę, where you can connect with ADA experts like Murphy to answer questions for free and provide guidance on ADA laws and accessibility.

RELATED:

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This article was first published by .

Like many triathletes, Julie Dunkle had big race goals for 2021. After early-season qualifying races for both the Ironman and 70.3 World Championships, she plotted out an ambitious plan to do both races, one month apart:

“My original idea was to have a solid day at 70.3 Worlds,” said the Encinitas, California native, “then go for a PR and podium at the Ironman World Championship in Kona.”

Dunkle trained with this goal in mind, only to have it all fall apart with an email from Ironman: Kona was postponed to February due to tightened COVID-19 restrictions in Hawaii. Suddenly, her plans changed. 70.3 Worlds was no longer a tune-up race, but the main event.

For the past two seasons, athletes have gotten used to pivoting in response to race cancellations and reorganizations. The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic has meant that every race registration is a gamble; athletes simply sign up and hope the host city doesn’t shut down the event due to an active or imminent outbreak, or that there are no travel restrictions imposed by the destination.

Athletes aren’t the only ones impacted by this uncertainty. After a hiatus in 2020, the Ironman organization fully expected to be able to put on its world championship events this year. In mid-July, race organizers traveled to Kona and the 70.3 Worlds host city of St. George, Utah to finalize plans with local officials:

“At the time, COVID case numbers and hospitalizations in the area were at a manageable level and race details were moving forward as originally planned,” said Kevin Lewis, president of the Greater Zion Convention & Tourism Office in St. George. “There were positive indicators that the travel restrictions for international visitors to the U.S. would be reduced. Two weeks later, the situation had changed significantly.”

With the development of the Delta variant, COVID case numbers rose rapidly in Utah and Hawaii. In other parts of the world, they were even more pronounced. U.S. leaders announced they would not be making changes toÌę, which limited nearly half of all athletes who qualified for Ironman’s world championship events. It was a flurry of activity at the Ironman organization as they worked with local officials in Hawaii and Utah to find ways to still put on a world-class event.

The two states have had vastly differing approaches to the pandemic. Hawaii has exercised extreme caution, requiring quarantines for non-vaccinated travelers and only accepting vaccination records from a small list of approved countries. With limited hospital beds and medical facilities, a surge of the COVID virus would overwhelm the tiny island community. Back in 2020, the Ironman World Championship was first postponed to February 2021, then canceled. It wasn’t surprising, then, when Ironman announcedÌę:

“The resurgence of the virus and new Delta strain has had significant impact on the island community of Hawaii,” Ironman CEO Andrew Messick said in a press statement on Aug. 19. “Combined with substantial border closures and travel restrictions for qualified athletes, there is not a viable pathway in October to host the Ironman World Championship.”

Utah, on the other hand, has adopted a “return to normal” approach, hosting large events throughout the year, including the Ironman 70.3 North American Championship race back in May.

“This isn’t our first large format event during COVID. We’ve been hosting events with enhanced safety protocols for several months,” said commissioner Gil Almquist, chairman of the Washington County Commission in Utah. “We have stayed open in Washington County while exercising all precautions at large events. With the Ironman 70.3 North American Championship, we showed our health department, citizen volunteers, spectators, and participants that an outdoor race can be held with minimal health risk.”

The conversation in Utah was much different than in Hawaii. In addition to more relaxed rules surrounding COVID, St. George has access to more hospital beds and medical facilities than Kona. Instead of looking at if the race could be held, race organizers and local officials began discussing how to hold a world championship event with a reduced global turnout. As many as half of qualified athletes for the 70.3 World Championship race were from outside of the United States, and many would not be able to travel into the country. Instead of 5,000 athletes from around the world, the race would be less than 3,000 mostly Americans. (Ironman estimates 70% of the 2021 70.3 World Championship field will be from the United States).

“In August, when it became increasingly clear that travel and border restrictions would not be relaxed in time for all athletes to attend the 70.3 World Championship event, we formulated an alternative plan,” said Ironman spokesman Dan Berglund. That plan includedÌę, where men and women raced on separate days, into one day.

“With the smaller athlete field size, and bringing a two-day event back to St. George in 2022, we looked at how we could lessen the strain on the local community this year,” he said. “We collectively decided to move this to a one-day weekend event, removing the weekday component, which has the natural ability to cause increased impact on the local community.”

The one-day format also makes it easier to recruit volunteers for the event. “Even as a one-day event, the volunteer requirements of the World Championship are almost twice what we normally provide at our annual race,” explains Lewis. “To put on an event of this magnitude is a significant commitment.”

Changes to the race in St. George have not been completely without criticism. Athletes who made travel plans based on the original two-day format had to scramble to change their flights or lodging reservations, some at great cost. Others have noted that merging the men’s and women’s races puts women at a competitive disadvantage, as the women’s pro race has historically been hindered by interference from pro and elite age-group men. And, of course, there is the criticism that the 2021 Ironman 70.3 World Championship will not be a true world championship, but more of an American one. Still, athletes and race organizers alike are happy just to have a race.

“With all the obstacles in the world today, the fact that we are putting on an event like this, in a place like this, at a time like this is a testament to the Ironman mantra that ‘anything is possible,” Almquist said.

With Kona out of the picture for 2021, all eyes are now on St. George. The sole Ironman world championship race of the year has attractedÌęÌęand age-group categories, looking to test their mettle against an elite group of athletes. And for the first time since 2019, new champions will be crowned.

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I have traveled the world with little more than a passport and a backpack. I have eaten scorpions and held a boa constrictor. I signed up for an Ironman triathlon without ever even having finished a half marathon. I have surfed on top of a moving car and bungee jumped into a gorge with a smile on my face.

Yet I’m too scared sign up for a social run. Funny how fear works, huh?

The older I get, the harder it is to make new friends. As a child, I could score a BFF anytime, anywhere, on the basis of anything – wearing the same color shirt, having a dog, knowing all the names of the Care Bears. As an adult
well, let’s just say I haven’t actually interacted with another human being, face-to-face, in five days.

I’ve written before about the challenges of adjusting to my new city. When I first moved to Utah, I assumed it would be easy to make friends. After all, I had never had a problem meeting people in my younger days. I now realize those connections won’t be so easy to find. In a community where everyone spends their free time driving Subarus packed with young children, opportunities to connect with other adults – especially kid-free ones like me – is virtually nonexistent.

This is the part where probably you’re thinking the obvious: You’re a runner. Why not just join a running club? That’s a great way to meet new people!

I agree, it’s a great idea. It’s actually acting on that idea that’s terrifying.

The thought of joining a new running club where I don’t know anyone is anxiety-inducing. It brings out insecurities I didn’t even know I had. Without even knowing a thing about the group runs in the area, I’m convinced I’ll be the slowest person there; that the club’s already established their cliques and inside jokes; that the group will be full of elite runners; that I’m going to be an inconvenience.

Plus, there’s the awkwardness of it all. If a child approaches a stranger and shouts, “Let’s be friends!” it’s endearing. As an adult, it’s desperate. I worry what others will think of me – that they’ll wonder why, exactly, I don’t have any friends of my own: What did she do to lose all her training buddies? Maybe she’s weird. Or she crop-dusts the runners behind her. Or she’s a serial killer who claims her victims on singletrack


In short, I’ve persuaded myself I’ll be rejected before I even take any chances. The problem with my isolation is not the lack of conversation, but the mental chatter that creeps in to fill the silence.

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. For years, I’ve encouraged my fellow runners to join running clubs, and every time, they’ve replied with a scrunched-up face and an assertion they’re not fast enough to join the group. They insist those clubs are for “real” runners, and they simply wouldn’t belong.

Back then, I thought those concerns were ridiculous, even though I had never once showed up at a group run full of strangers. Now I get it. It’s scary.

But here’s the thing: Scary is good. To meet people, we know we have to get out, be places, and do things. We have to give ourselves opportunities to find people who like and accept our idiosyncrasies. We have to face fear head-on and learn that it’s never as bad as we think it’s going to be.

To do that, we each have to get over the insecurity hump and show up. Get out the door – no one will come and pull you out. The alternative is to stay at home, alone, listening to the ridiculous chatter in your head trying to convince you that you’re not good enough to hang out with other runners.

There are plenty of people like us out there. We just need to be brave enough to find them.

****

About The Author:

is the author of the bestsellingÌęÌęandÌę.ÌęWhen she isn’t word-jockeying behind a laptop, she can be found sweating (and probably cursing) all over the trails of Arizona.

This column was first published in July, 2015

The post Nervous About Running With Others? You’re Not Alone. appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

If you watched the men’s , you had a front-row seat to a master class in running. The instructor: 36 year-old Eliud Kipchoge of Kenya, who covered the 26.2 mile course in Sapporo in 2:08:38 to win the race and his second consecutive Olympic gold. The legend now holds two of the top five fastest times ever posted in Olympic marathons, and he can go even faster – his PR is the of 2:01:39, set at the 2018 Berlin Marathon. In comparison, Jan Frodeno’s 2:44:21 marathon at theÌęÌęin AllgĂ€u, where he set a world record for fastest-ever Iron-distance race, seems sluggish. (It’s not – Kipchoge is just that good.)

So how do you take the lessons from Kipchoge’s masterclass and apply it to your own training and racing? We asked Greg Billington, 2016 Olympic triathlete, 2021 Paralympic triathlon guide, 2019 San Francisco Marathon champion, and Olympic trials qualifier in the marathon to break down the lessons from Kipchoge’s victory. Billington, who holds a 2:15:31 marathon PR, knows how to become a faster runner, and a lot of it boils down to “run like Kipchoge.” Here’s how:

The Form

“What is unique about Eliud’s run form is how fundamentally perfect it is,” Billington said. “He is everything your coach tells you to do. He has a mid-foot strike, his feet land directly below his knees so he’s not overstriding, and he has a flawless forward lean that goes from ankles to head.”

Anyone who wants a faster run split could certainly benefit from focusing on form. However, that doesn’t mean you should overhaul your form overnight, said Billington. “All running form is dependent upon your body and your strengths. Trying to adopt Kipchoge’s form won’t be sustainable for folks who haven’t trained appropriately to maintain it. The fundamental concepts that give them success, however, are translatable.” For example, while the average person may not be able to have their heels nearly touch their glutes with every stride like Kipchoge, they can work on hip flexor mobility and core strength to ensure that each stride is more efficient. Choose one element of running form to focus on, and practice that before moving on to the next.

Not sure where to start? Billington recommends video footage. “Everyone has a camera. If you want to know how you look running, it’s pretty simple to videotape yourself running. This will usually reveal imbalances and opportunities for improvement.” If possible, try to get video footage from mid-workout, not during a simulated one-off stride, where it’s easy to fake good form. From there, look to cues from top marathoners (like Kipchoge), compare and contrast.

The Strength

“[Kipchoge] has an incredibly strong torso that he enables him to maintain stability and speed from stride to stride,” Billington said. Runners can also strive to have the strength necessary so that the power generated during each stride doesn’t dissipate through a weak core. Ìęincludes lots of core work via single-leg bridges,, and planks.

The Cadence

Short ground contact time is critical to fast running. Kipchoge runs with a cadence of around 190 steps per minute – well above the 160 steps per minute that most runners average. Boosting your cadence can be hugely beneficial, but again, this is something that should be done gradually. that instead of going straight to the ideal cadence, athletes should gradually build up five percent at a time — similar to the way you’d build up your mileage. In other words, if your current cadence is 160, shoot for 168 at first. When you can hold that cadence on a long run, bump your goal up to 176.

The Training

“Kipchoge’s consistency is unique in the marathon and is part of what has made him an icon,” Billington said. “He has won an unparalleled 13 out of 15 marathons. This seems to be down to his training and preparation.”

Kipchoge is said to consistently run between 110 and 120 miles per week in Eldoret, a town located more than 6,000 feet above sea level. Most people typically can’t put in those kind of miles, and relocating to high-altitude locations isn’t always an option. However, the key element – consistency – is achievable for all. The biggest secret is no secret: Kipchoge simply does the work day in and day out.

In addition to logging the miles, he pays careful attention all the things that make one a well-rounded runner, from strength work to technique drills. “Kipchoge’s flawless form doesn’t just mean additional speed, it improves the likelihood that he stays healthy,” Billington said. “And this is proven out – aside from an ear blockage at the London Marathon, which is not exactly stride related, he has been uninjured (publicly at least) for about a decade. Consistency is key to success and good form is critical for that.”

The Lifestyle

Some have described Kipchoge’s lifestyle as that ofÌę. Despite great success in running (and with it, impressive prize winnings and sponsorship deals), Kipchoge chooses to live in a basic 8×10-foot dorm room with his teammates.

“Our life here is simple, very simple,” Kipchoge said of his living conditions inÌęÌęwith BBC Sport. “Get up in the morning, go for a run, come back. If it is a day for cleaning, we do the cleaning, or we just relax. Then go for lunch, massage, the 4 o’clock run, evening tea, relax, go to sleep. As simple as that.”

Though quitting one’s job for a singular focus on training isn’t possible for most runners, a simplified lifestyle is. This can come in a lot of different forms – for some, it might be removing distractions (like social media apps), while others might emulate Kipchoge’s predictable schedule. Having a set routine can make it easier to stick to the plan, whether it’s moving straight to a core workout after a run or hitting your scheduled bedtime every single night.

“Only the disciplined ones are free in life,” Kipchoge said inÌę. “If you aren’t disciplined, you are a slave to your moods. You are a slave to your passions.”

The Strategy

Don’t bolt out to the front of a race. Instead, be like Kipchoge and settle in. The marathon is a long race – not just in miles and time, but in the way events unfold. A lot can happen over 26.2 miles, and this was on full display in the Tokyo Olympic race, where Kipchoge displayed his trademark patience, seeing how things went and not going too deep too early. It also seemed he never really got into his own head; when his competition was grimacing, Kipchoge was grinning. At one point, he even shared a laugh and a fist-bump with Brazil’s Daniel do Nascimento.

“I think we can all learn to be as relaxed as he is,” Billington said. “If you look at him throughout the marathon (except when Galen Rupp bumped him!), his entire upper body looks relaxed, from his hands through his face.”

The Bottom Line

Though lessons from Kipchoge’s masterclass can benefit runners, it’s important to remember that the likelihood of ever dropping an Olympic-style 2:08:31 marathon is pretty slim.

Instead of focusing too much on becoming like Kipchoge as a runner, they should instead strive to become like Kipchoge as a human. “Kipchoge as a person is inspirational,” Billington said. “His focus on the process, teamwork, discipline are all admirable traits we can bring to our lives and running.”

The post How Mere Mortals Can Run Like Eliud Kipchoge appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Jill Colangelo was used to pain. As a runner and triathlete, the 39-year-old was proud of her ability to endure. She saw her tenacity as a superpower, giving her the ability to push through discomfort and achieve her goals. All she had to do was tune out her body’s lamentations — night sweats, random pains, and a heaviness in her legs — by reminding herself that pain was part of endurance sports. She could deal with it. She was strong.

With every day of pushing through her symptoms, though, they grew more intense. Her legs began to swell with edema. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a menstrual cycle; her best guess was five years ago. She had mood swings and insomnia, yet she was still able to get out of bed each morning ready to train. Despite the heaviness in her legs, she still laced up every day — after all, tenacity was her superpower. All of this was only serving to make her stronger. Right?

Colangelo tried to find a medical cause for her symptoms. Nothing made sense to her doctors. She was a healthy, active woman. Her diagnosis eventually came only after a lengthy, frustrating, and disheartening process of elimination: overtraining syndrome — the result of years of a “mind over matter” mentality. Her so-called superpower turned out to be not so super.

“The fact that I was able to get myself so broken down was really stunning to me,” Colangelo said. “That I could compel myself to do something to the point where I was able to ignore things like pain or any other signs of distress. I got myself to a point where I actually injured myself in a grave way. I really became kind of curious about what would drive somebody to do something like that.”

But when Colangelo tried to find resources to help with her recovery, she found few. Most doctors didn’t know what overtraining syndrome was, much less how to treat it.

“At the time, the name associated with overtraining syndrome was [ultrarunner] Geoff Roes, who was experiencing this mysterious disease,” Colangelo said. “It was this scary thing they called ‘the unknown sickness’ and all this mystical kind of stuff.”

Though a self-described back-of-the-pack runner and triathlete, Colangelo saw similarities between herself and elite athletes who talked about overtraining syndrome, both in the symptoms they experienced and the difficulty getting a diagnosis and support. Fed up with a lack of resources, Colangelo considered entering medical school at age 40 just to gain a better understanding of how the human body works. Ultimately, she wanted to develop solutions to help endurance athletes. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t want to treat. She wanted to prevent.

“I started to see that the true way to help people here was not to be a mechanic, where I go in and fix what’s broken,” Colangelo said. “It was about what can I do to prevent, to help people see this as an issue before it happens?”

That’s when Colangelo had a lightbulb moment. She dug deeper into the reasons she trained so much in the years leading to her breakdown, and clear patterns emerged.

“I am an anxious person who felt less anxious when she could get a huge amount of running in,” Colangelo said. “I am an insecure person who found that it felt good to do this thing that everyone seemed to be impressed by. I was sad after my divorce and found that pushing the pedals of my bike made me cry less. I started to pull back the curtain and saw a lot of things in concert. I started to see how I could ignore so many things for so long.”

Running
or Running Away?

The evidence is clear that physical and mental health work in tandem. When a person begins to exercise, it sets off a cascade of reactions that benefit the brain as much as the body. As little as y can have a profoundly positive impact on depression, anxiety, and ADHD. It can also relieve stress, improve memory, and boost overall mood. If a little is good, then more is better, right? Endurance athletes, who exercise much more than 15 minutes per day, should be the picture of physical and mental health.

But Colangelo’s experience underscores how this isn’t always the case. During her recovery, Colangelo struggled to find resources geared toward endurance athletes. What was available in sport psychology journals and textbooks at the time mostly looked at factors like tenacity and perseverance. They lauded the athlete’s ability to never, ever give up, no matter what. Colangelo saw how this romanticized idea of grit and resilience allowed her to frame her self-inflicted suffering as heroic instead of what it really was—an unhealthy coping mechanism.

“I started going down the rabbit hole of origin behaviors that would lead someone to repetitive training without any kind of scruples,” Colangelo said. “And I was able to see how closely linked a person’s mental state can be to their allegiance to endurance sport, and how it can become an all-consuming lifestyle.”

She had years of anecdotal information, gathered on long bike rides where people talked about swapping alcohol or drug addiction for a triathlon hobby, or in ultrarunning Facebook groups where people stoutly asserted “running is my therapy.” Colangelo suspected mental health issues were more prevalent in the endurance community (and that unique resources were needed to help these athletes develop a healthy relationship with sport) but she could only find limited research.

The more training hours per week, the more someone is likely to have risk for mental illness.

“There were people doing research on the physiological aspects of participation in running and triathlon, but no one was asking the question of ‘Who would go out and exercise for six hours at a time?’ Like, who in the hell would do this?” Colangelo said. “I wanted a study that looked at the relationship between the number of hours per week spent training and mental health status. When I couldn’t find it, I set out to do it myself.”

Colangelo, who had earned a bachelor’s degree in psychology almost two decades prior, enrolled in graduate school to study mental health. , which compared more than 500 ultra endurance athletes to a general U.S. population, ultimately confirmed her original hypothesis. Athletes in the study consistently displayed higher risk for mental health issues like depression, anxiety, disordered eating, alcohol abuse, and suicidal thoughts. Mental illness affects 20% of the general population in the U.S., but 37% of endurance athletes reported having been diagnosed with mental illness prior to the study, and 46% showed risk factors for mental health issues. An at-risk assessment tool revealed that 24.5% of endurance athletes were at risk for alcohol use disorder—almost five times more than in the general population. Endurance athletes also displayed significantly higher risk for eating disorders comparatively in both men and women. When broken down by training volume, the data show that as time spent in training goes up, so too does the risk of a variety of mental health issues; those who trained more than 20 hours per week were at highest risk.

On the surface, it seems training would be a healthier coping mechanism. Exercise is as part of the treatment plan for mental health issues like depression and anxiety. But Colangelo’s study on ultra-endurance sports isn’t the only one that suggests too much exercise might be a red flag for mental health issues. In one from more than 1.2 million U.S. adults, subjects reported an average of almost 3.4 days of poor mental health (stress, depression, emotional problems) in the past month. Those who exercised struggled nearly 1.5 fewer days a month, a 43.2% decrease in mental health burden. That same data analysis found that people who exercise for more than six hours a week have a higher mental health burden than those who exercise three to five times a week; exercising for more than three hours at a time is associated with worse mental health than not exercising at all.

“The more training hours per week, the more someone is likely to have risk for mental illness in categories like depression, anxiety, and eating disorders,” Colangelo said. “Endurance sports tend to be a great place to hide a variety of issues. This suggests that just as many people are running away as running.”

What Is the Runner’s High?

Just about every endurance athlete has been called crazy at some point. The idea of running 26.2 miles (or 140.6, for that matter) is not how most people would describe their perfect Sunday morning. So yes, by that definition, endurance athletes could probably be colloquially described as a few tacos short of a combination platter. But having a unique hobby is not the definition of mental illness.

Mental illness refers collectively to all diagnosable mental disorders. Many people have mental health concerns from time to time, but a mental health concern becomes a mental illness when ongoing signs and symptoms cause frequent stress and affect a person’s ability to function. Training for an Ironman or ultramarathon in and of itself is not unhealthy behavior. There are plenty of reasons to do both that have nothing to do with mental health issues. There are also many who use endurance sports as a critical coping strategy for things like anxiety or depression. But planning one’s entire life around exercise, continuing to exercise with an injury, withdrawing from work, family, or social obligations to exercise, or showing withdrawal symptoms may be signs of a larger problem. Symptoms may also manifest outside of workouts, like severely restricting calories while training or being unable to sleep for weeks or months due to anxious thoughts.

Overtraining syndrome is a physical diagnosis, given when a person exercises too much and rests too little. Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport (or RED-S) refers to impaired physiological functioning caused by relative energy (calorie) deficiency. To date, however, there is no psychological equivalent. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-V), used by clinicians and researchers to diagnose and classify mental illness, does not include exercise addiction as a standalone diagnosis (it is only referenced once, as a criterion for diagnosing eating disorders).

That’s frustrating for researchers like of Temple University. In 1984, Sachs was one of the first to publish an article on the concept of exercise addiction (under the name “running addiction”) to describe a set of withdrawal symptoms that surface during periods when a person is not running. These withdrawal symptoms could be so intense they motivate runners to continue despite injury or other adverse consequences.

“This isn’t like a streak, where people run every day without missing a day because it’s a fun goal,” explains Sachs. “The addiction piece is really something we differentiate from a healthy habit. If you can’t run on a day you plan to run, it makes you feel guilty, irritable, anxious, nervous. Most people can miss a day here or there for family commitments or a rest day. [In addiction] you lose control over your ability to make that decision. The number-one priority is exercise, and everything else takes second place.”

The concept of addiction typically refers to an excessive and out-of-control consumption of substances like drugs or alcohol. In a way, exercise elicits a similar response. Endorphins produced by the body during exercise are converted into a peptide similar to opiate drugs, which may explain why feelings of euphoria, harmony, and a reduced perception of pain—also known as Ìę— are similar to those described by people addicted to drugs or alcohol. It also may explain why some runners experience withdrawal symptoms when they don’t run.

“That doesn’t mean that we generalize to a whole population of endurance athletes and say just because we all exercise so much, we’re addicts,” Sachs said. “Just like there are social drinkers who can have a glass of wine every evening without being affected, most runners can do their workout and then go about their day. Then there are some people who can’t function unless they have six beers or six miles, and that’s obviously not good.”

Because we’re so strong, we should be able to handle hard things and always finish what we started at any cost. Any cost.

Endurance sport culture, with its heavy training demands and constant drive to improve, can fan the flames of mental health issues like anxiety and depression. Yet a pervasive glorification of “pushing through the pain” often takes its toll on body and mind. In one study, Sachs and colleagues discovered that even though endurance athletes require some degree of mental toughness, the romanticization of pushing through the pain can have harmful consequences. Regularly encouraging athletes to exceed their perceptual or actual limitations causes them to do just that — for better and for worse.

“On one hand, doing something like an Ironman or ultramarathon takes a tremendous amount of physical capability and mental toughness. You’re out there for a long time, and you’re pushing your body. In that way, it can make us feel like we’re pretty strong,” Sachs said. “Because we’re so strong, we should be able to handle hard things and always finish what we started at any cost. Any cost.”

This toughness can also be an obstacle in seeking help. When faced with a sore knee, the typical endurance athlete will simply pretend as if everything is fine, because they have a race coming up and they can’t afford to take time off for rest or physical therapy. The same approach is often used for mental health as well, where the athlete acts as if everything is fine. They rationalize that if there is a mental health issue, exercise will surely cure it. Running is therapy, right?

“Yes and no,” Sachs said. “Exercise isn’t a panacea or cure-all. It can be a really important coping strategy for things like depression or anxiety, and for some people it can be enough. But the intensity or severity of the mental health challenge the person is facing matters. The exercise may indeed be helping somewhat, but you might need more support from an experienced clinician. Just because you train a lot doesn’t make you immune from mental health issues.”

Sachs points to recent examples of Naomi Osaka and Michael Phelps, both athletes at the top of their respective sports, who also happen to be affected by mental health issues. Olympic triathlete Sarah True about her experience with depression throughout her college, Olympic, and Ironman racing career. In recent years, runners and triathletes at every level of the sport, whether finishing at the back of the pack or the top of the podium, have shared their stories of alcoholism, drug addiction, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and suicidal thoughts that haven’t been cured just by exercise. The fact that people are now talking about mental health in endurance communities gives Sachs hope for a brighter future.

“We can change the conversation,” Sach said. “If someone has a broken ankle, we don’t tell them to toughen up, dig deep, and plow through it. It’s not going to magically heal on its own. So why are we pretending like that’s good advice for mental health?”

The Injuries We Can’t See

One reason we have better advice for broken ankles is that we can clearly see the issue. That’s not always the case with anxiety or depression. Even disorders we think would be obvious aren’t always. anywhere between 30% to 90% of alcoholics are functional, meaning they blend into society by doing most of what one without the disease would do, like maintain jobs and relationships or even train for races — all while still meeting the criteria for alcohol use disorder.

Not being able to recognize mental health disorders is a byproduct of the way we’ve approached sport psychology in the past, said , chief medical officer of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). If we don’t study the problem, how do we even know the problem exists? When we’ve filled the research gap with studies on grit and tenacity, it sends the message that athletes simply need to toughen up.

“It’s common for coaches to promote this sense of being tough because that’s what you have to do to win, to persevere,” Hainline said. “At events, it’s about the competition and physical fitness. Even in society, we don’t put mental health in the same place as physical health. Our insurance companies don’t allow the same access to care for mental health services as physical health.”

In recent years, Hainline has been part of a movement to prioritize mental health in multiple sport agencies, including the NCAA and the International Olympic Committee (IOC). In 2018, the IOC Medical and Scientific Commission assembled a team of international experts, including Hainline, to take a scientific approach for addressing mental health symptoms and disorders in elite athletes. The result was a groundbreaking which recommended mental health prevention and management techniques for doctors, psychiatrists, and other professionals who work with elite athletes.

“Athletes are human beings,” Hainline said. “We forget that sometimes. And as human beings, athletes suffer from mental health symptoms and disorders similar to the regular population, or for certain disorders, they have a higher rate. Even in certain sports in which your body is shown a lot, like in wrestling, beach volleyball, or swimming, the eating disorders are a lot higher as a result. That has profound mental health and other consequences.”

Athletes are human beings. We forget that sometimes.

One particular point Hainline has tried to emphasize in his work is that the responsibility for mental health should not be placed solely on the athlete. Stigma is a powerful deterrent for athletes self-identifying mental health disorders and seeking help. Mental health is already seen as a sign of weakness, but more so in sporting environments. Individual and cultural factors can also make athletes reluctant to seek help for mental health issues. In , Hainline and colleagues found elite athletes who were from underrepresented groups, such as women, people of color, or para-athletes, particularly struggled to reach out.

“There’s that stigma out there,” Hainline said. “Not just the stigma of mental health disorders, but the stigma that they believe they’re already abnormal. There’s a dual stigma, and that can be devastating.”

To remedy this, Hainline has pushed for a new approach to mental health in sport, where every person who comes into contact with an athlete, whether coaches, physical trainers, or athletic directors, knows how to recognize and address mental health issues. This involves a certain degree of deprogramming decades of a mind-over-matter mentality. To accomplish this, he relied on the data.

“Really good coaches, when you get to know them, they love data,” Hainline said. “They say show me the evidence, and we do. The data are becoming clear that mental health symptoms, and especially mental health disorders, can predict injury. If you’re injured and develop depression or anxiety after injury, it predicts poor recovery. Sleep deprivation not only predicts poor performance, but it predicts depression and other mental health disorders.”

His pitch builds out into a broader umbrella of periodization, showing evidence that training hard without appropriate recovery predicts the development of mental health symptoms and disorders. His final line — a reminder that athletes are human beings — is an impassioned plea for a holistic approach to coaching. His ultimate goal is for all sport programs, whether at the amateur or elite levels, to be able to spot the warning signs of mental health issues, have a well-rehearsed plan for routine and emergency mental health issues in athletes, develop a well-rooted network to refer athletes to appropriate resources, and a clear message to athletes that they won’t be penalized for seeking help.

“If you do that, you’re going to have a better human being with better performance,” Hainline said. “In the training process, we’re usually thinking about the end game of winning a medal. We’re not thinking about the developmental game, that every time I’m doing this as an athlete, I’m actually a human being. This athletic journey is part of who I am as a human being, but me as a human being is not the athletic journey. So the real issue is that we define ourselves by the medals, or by being the athlete, rather than defining ourselves as a soulful human being and the athletic experience as one part of that.”

Changing the Conversation

Though Hainline’s framework for mental health was developed for elite athletes, many of the lessons apply to everyday endurance enthusiasts, who (like elite athletes) often see their pursuits as a lifestyle, not a hobby. A healthy endurance community requires input at all levels, from the athletes themselves to the professionals who work with them.

hopes to use new evidence on mental health in endurance sports to launch additional research on athletes as well as develop a screening tool for medical and mental health professionals, starting with one question: How many hours per week do you exercise?

“Currently, doctors tend to have a monolithic view of exercise. They say ‘Are you doing it? Yes? Great,’” Colangelo said. “But they rarely consider what high volumes of training could reveal about physical and mental health.”

This doesn’t mean doctors would suddenly become experts in Ironman training or ultrarunning, nor would it mean someone who trains 20 hours per week would automatically be prescribed antidepressants. It would simply be one more tool available to medical professionals to assess a patient and start a conversation about mental health. Colangelo offers up the screening protocol currently used for alcohol as an example. During a routine check-up, healthcare professionals ask how many drinks per week a person consumes. Two glasses of wine per week will yield a different response than twenty; a larger number may signal the patient is using alcohol to self-medicate anxiety or depression.

Colangelo says the same can be applied to exercise. Asking the simple question of “How much are you exercising?” could be an effective screening tool to begin conversations about mental health as well as physiological complications like overtraining syndrome or . “In my research, there was a big gap between the number of endurance athletes at risk for mental health issues and the number of people who actually had a diagnosis, meaning there are quite a few people out there experiencing symptoms of everything from alcohol abuse to panic attacks to disordered eating, and have not had mental health care. This was particularly true for men, who were more likely than women to be undiagnosed.”

Sachs, a lifelong runner, would like to see exercise addiction included in diagnostic materials for mental health practitioners. He’d also like to see endurance sports leverage the power of community to change the way athletes and coaches talk about mental health. “One of the great things about endurance sports is that there’s a wonderful community of extremely supportive individuals. If someone is walking with a limp, we’re quick to ask that person what’s the matter or how can we help. From a mental health standpoint, we can ask, ‘Are you OK?’ when something doesn’t seem quite right. We can refer people to professionals who might be helpful.”

Colangelo agrees that normalizing mental health conversations in ultra-endurance sports is a powerful step to showing that physical fitness isn’t the only indicator of health.

“We assume that if someone can run an ultramarathon or bike a century, they must be okay,” Colangelo said. “Because of that, many endurance athletes think they are the only one experiencing these pains, whether it’s with alcohol, anxiety, disordered eating, or even suicidal thoughts. The more we can let people know they are not alone, the better.”

In time, experts hope the stigma of mental health is removed and replaced with a message of strength. This is where endurance athletes may particularly excel, says Sachs:

“The good news? We endurance athletes have a lot of experience dealing with challenges, and because of this, athletes facing mental health issues may very well be more likely to be successful in dealing with this challenge. But it’s not necessarily something you can do on your own. The fact that you may have mental health issues doesn’t diminish your qualities as a person or your ability to be an excellent athlete. It just means you’ve got another challenge to take on.”

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In the 1970s television show The Six-Million Dollar Man, a severely injured test pilot is rebuilt with nuclear-powered bionic limbs. These cybernetic parts allowed the pilot to suddenly become superhuman—the new-and-improved Colonel Steve Austin could not only run faster than a car, he could lift said car with just one bionic arm (which, as viewers discovered in episode six, also contained a Geiger counter to save the world from doomsday). Every week, the opening credits would intone with great seriousness:

Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world’s first bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before.

The Six-Million Dollar Man could have been an icon for inclusivity—people with disabilities can do cool things! Instead, the takeaway was that artificial body parts are bionic wonders, increasing ordinary human powers beyond the realm of possibility. From the action-adventure series Bionic Woman, which featured Steve Austin’s cybernetic counterpart, Jamie Sommers, to the whatzits and whirlygigs within the arms of the animated Inspector Gadget, pop culture has created a fantastical story of phenomenal feats contained within ordinary prosthetic limbs. Even today, prosthetics are largely misunderstood, which impacts the way users are treated in a variety of personal and professional settings.

Perhaps no better example of this effect is Blake Leeper’s recent lawsuit against , the governing body of track and field. The American sprinter, who was born with both legs missing below the knee, sued for the right to compete against runners with biological legs at the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. The eight-time Paralympic Track and Field medalist, world record holder, and three-time American record holder was told his prosthetic legs were an “artificial competitive advantage” under , which intends to prevent disabled athletes from competing against able-bodied athletes with mechanical aids that overcompensate for the loss created by a disability.

Leeper isn’t the first athlete with a limb difference to sue for the right to compete against athletes with biologically intact limbs. South African sprinter Oscar Pistorius filed a similar lawsuit after being banned from able-bodied competition in 2008. The prevailing belief was that Pistorius’s prosthetics, known as “Flex-Foot Cheetahs,” enabled him to use less energy than non-amputee athletes while covering the same distance, and therefore run faster. Pistorius appealed the ban and won, making history as the .

Still, no clear precedent was set for future athletes, and in 2019 Leeper found himself in the same fight as Pistorius. In his appeal to compete against all athletes, Leeper was tasked with the burden of proving he was not, in fact, a bionic man.

The post The Science and Controversy of Running Blade Prosthetics appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Despite the well-known benefits of physical activity, four out of five children and adolescents in the United States fail to meetÌę. Underlying this statistic is an even more worrying one: girls are less physically active and report lower levels of participation in both sport and physical activity than boys.

Related for Members:

This gender gap is well documented in running and triathlon. According to USA Triathlon data, multisport participation is equal for boys and girls until age 10, when female participation begins to decline. In running, 14-year-old girls drop out at two times the rate of boys. Though plenty of initiatives try to close this gender gap by making sport more appealing — girls-only sport programs, access to role models and mentors, and rewards for participation—the most effective solution could be as simple as outfitting tween girls with sports bras.

In conducted by the University of Portsmouth, nearly three-quarters of girls aged 11 to 18 said their breasts were the reason they pull out of sports. Discomfort from bouncing breasts is painful and embarrassing, and many girls are uncomfortable with the way their bodies change during puberty.Ìę

“Girls are less active because it may physically hurt to be active or they just feel embarrassed because their breasts are flopping around,” said Carrie Wagner of the (GALS), an all-girls public charter middle school in Los Angeles. “It is really hard to adapt to all the changes that are going on in the body for these girls.”Ìę

Despite an overwhelming need for a sports bra to accommodate their growing breasts, only 10 percent of girls in the University of Portsmouth study had ever worn one. Parents are often uncomfortable with the idea of buying a bra for their little girl, and daughters, who are already self-conscious about their changing bodies, can be reluctant to bring it up. In many cases, it’s simply easier to replace physical activity with pursuits that don’t require as much movement.

Oiselle is on a mission to change that. The Seattle-based running apparel brand aims to make sports bras a part of the cultural conversation through its program, which equips tween girls with the knowledge and gear they need to keep running through puberty and beyond.

“We were seeing research that highlighted the prevalence of breast-related concerns among girls, and the influence of breast development on participation in sport,” said Sarah Lesko, who oversees philanthropy initiatives at Oiselle. “We happened to have some extra bra inventory at that time, so we put two and two together and realized we were in a great position to really make a positive impact.”

In the program, educators and elite runners visit schools, athletics programs, and community organizations like GALS to provide straightforward, usable information on breast development, bra selection, and fit. They conduct these workshops wearing their own sports bras, taking care to repeat “all breasts are normal” and “you are an athlete in your own body.” By demystifying breast development and bra shopping, girls become less likely to see their bodies as a barrier to physical activity. This notion is confirmed with the distribution of a free, well-fitting sports bra to every girl in the program, so girls can immediately get firsthand experience with the benefits of proper support.

“It’s a fairly simple intervention to give a girl a sports bra, but it’s powerful as well,” said Lesko. It lets her know her comfort is important, her changing body is normal, and moving her body should be fun.”

By removing this major barrier to sport at such a formative moment, Bras For Girls is giving participants easier access to the many documented benefits of sport in their adolescent and adult years, including better physical health, higher educational achievement, increased self-confidence and emotional well-being, and reduced rates of teen pregnancy, cigarette use, and drug use. The positive impact of a sports bra is often evident from the first day.

“The girls were so appreciative of the bras they received,” said Wagner. “We saw an immediate impact the next day during our morning movement program. We found that girls were more enthusiastic about participation and that they felt more comfortable in their bodies. Providing a sports bra that fits is one less thing for them to worry about. It gives them more confidence.”

Since launching Bras For Girls in 2017, Oiselle has donated more than 8,500 bras to middle-school girls in need, and is on track to hit 10,000 donated bras by the end of 2020.Ìę

“We’re dreaming big: a bra for every girl in the world!” Lesko declared. “Honestly, why should lack of a sports bra be a limiting factor for any girl? There is a huge need. The first year of Bras for Girls, we received donation requests for more than 68,000 bras. We are building more bra inventory each year for this program, as many bras as our budget allows, and we’d love to see all sporting goods companies in the world join us in donating bras.”

The post Why Girls Stop Running in the Tween Years appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

When Karen Baker joined the Happy Running group in Apex, NC, four years ago, she did it solely for the social outlet—the women in the group were friendly, and it seemed like a nice way to make the miles pass by faster. And the miles did go by faster—not just because they were fun, but because Karen herself was getting faster. Within months of joining Happy Running, Baker was setting PRs left and right—in total, more than 14 minutes off her half marathon time, and 54 minutes off her full marathon. Last spring, at age 42, Baker ran her fastest 10K ever.

Anson Fatland had a similar experience. On a whim, the self-described “somewhat irregular runner” went to a meetup of a neighborhood run group in Seattle, hosted by local running shop .

“I was intimidated to show up to a running group because I didn’t consider myself a runner,” Fatland says. “But I met the nicest, most supportive people I had ever met in any sport, hands down. They were so welcoming and encouraging—not only during that first run, but after, in hoping I’d come back for another run.” Fatland showed up again and again, and quickly discovered a new love for ultrarunning.

Going faster and farther is certainly possible when training alone, but Baker and Fatland are perfect examples of how a partner or training group can be a runner’s secret training weapon. Many elite runners, from Kenyan and Ethiopian training camps to teams like the , hone their excellence by training together. Indeed, the science backs it up—runners get better together. Here’s why:

Skipping a run will become a thing of the past.

When you’re flying solo, it’s easy to justify skipping a workout: It’s too early, this bed is so comfortable, and what’s one missed run, anyway? But when you know someone is waiting for you to meet them for a six-miler, you’re more inclined to kick off the covers and honor your commitment. that accountability to another person is a big factor in adhering to a training plan.

Peer pressure is now a good thing.

Research shows that the actions of others rub off on us, for better and for worse. A published in the Journal of Social Sciences found that people gravitate towards the exercise behaviors of those around them. Those put in a “high fit” group worked out harder than those surrounded by people who appeared to have lower fitness. If you’re the only runner in your current group of friends, it’s likely the feedback you get is less than supportive, which can crush your motivation to run. But surround yourself with runners, and you’ll soon find enablers of the best kind.

You’ll go faster.

No one wants to be the weakest link in a group setting. This in known in psychology as the , though runners know it as the ±ő’l±ô-Čú±đ-»ćČčłŸČÔ±đ»ć-Ÿ±ŽÚ-±ő-Č”±đłÙ-»ć°ùŽÇ±è±è±đ»ć-łÙŽÇ»ćČčČâ phenomenon. When we’re working out with others, the Köhler Effect kicks in, spurring us to push beyond the limits we might set on ourselves when training alone. that people who exercised with someone they thought was better than them increased their workout intensity by as much as 200 percent.

You’ll also go farther.

Working out with others to increase the amount of time a person spends exercising, doubling the training time of those who exercised alone. Whether it’s because of the Köhler Effect or simply because time flies when you’re having fun, there’s no denying that a running buddy can push you to keep going.

There will be post-run pancakes.

Few people outside of the running community understand what it means to be “rungry” after a workout. That’s why so many running groups do more than just run—they’re also groups who grab breakfast after a Saturday morning run or bring a six-pack of craft beer to the trailhead for a post-work (and post-workout) libation. These incentives may seem silly, but they’re effective—when we have a prize at the end of a workout, we’re more likely to show up and put in the effort.

You’ll get the inside scoop from runners who know.

Maybe you know nothing about running. Or maybe you think you know everything about running. Either way, running partners and training groups can teach you a thing or two (or ten). Some running groups, such as those offered through local run shops, offer formal coaching or classes. Others share their wisdom between tempo efforts; after all, runners tend to talk about running while running. Whether it’s detailed advice on how to train for your first 10K or a clever hack for preventing blisters during an ultra, you’ll be amazed at how much you can learn from your fellow runners.

Everything gets better.

The benefits of training with a group aren’t limited to running. found that having a training buddy enhances overall well-being: Those exercising in a group show significant improvements in physical fitness, mental well-being, and emotional stability, as well as a marked reduction in stress levels. Running alone also improves mental quality of life, but those who always fly solo for workouts don’t see the same boost in all aspects of their life.

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