Consider this age-old dilemma: youā€™re at the bottom of a hill, and you want to get to the top. Should you head straight up the steepest slope or switchback back and forth at a gentler incline? The answer depends on the context. If youā€™re on a marked trail, for example, you should definitely stick to the prescribed switchbacks. But a more general answer involves digging into the physics.

Thatā€™s the goal of , from a research team led by David Looney and Adam Potter of the U.S. Army Research Institute of Environmental Medicine. Previous researchers have found that ā€œsteeper is cheaperā€ for runners, meaning that it takes less energy to ascend directly up steeper slopes. But it wasnā€™t clear whether the same is true for walkers and backpackers, or whether the answers change depending on how hot or cold it is.

The Best Slope for Trail Runners

For starters, itā€™s worth looking back at the trail-running data. In 2016, researchers at the University of Colorado decided to the increasingly popular world of . The total elevation gain in these races is set at 1,000 meters, or 3,281 feet, but every course is different. A steep slope will have a shorter course distance but be harder to run up. A gentle slope will be easier to run up but cover a longer total distance. For a given finishing time, whatā€™s the sweet spot?

The Colorado researchers built the worldā€™s steepest treadmill (video ), capable of reaching a slope of 45 degreesā€”a 100-percent grade, in other words. To put that into perspective, a black diamond ski run is typically about 25 degrees, and gym treadmills rarely go more than 9 degrees. They had to line the treadmill belt with sandpaper for grip, and even then runners couldnā€™t stay balanced beyond 40 degrees.

They tested runners at a variety of slopes, with the treadmill speed adjusted so that they were always gaining elevation at the same rate, equivalent to a vertical kilometer in a very respectable time of 48 minutes (the world record is just under 30 minutes). Hereā€™s what the results looked like for walking (black circles) and running (white circles), with metabolic rate (basically how quickly they were burning calories) on the vertical axis:

At gentle slopes like 10 degrees, it takes a lot of energy to climb, because the treadmill is moving really fast to gain the required elevation. At steeper slopes, the calorie burn decreases: steeper is indeed cheaper, at least up to a point. Beyond about 30 degrees, calorie burn starts increasing again, presumably because the incline is now so steep that itā€™s hard climb efficiently. The sweet spot, then, is between 20 and 30 degreesā€”which, as it turns out, corresponds to the average slopes of the courses where the fast vertical kilometers are held.

(You might also notice that walking burns less energy than running for most of the steeper slopes. Thatā€™s a truth that most mountain and trail runners eventually discover for themselves. However, it doesnā€™t necessarily mean that you should only walk up hills, as I explored in this article on the walk/run dilemma in trail running.)

The Best Slope for Hikers

Climbing a kilometer in 48 minutes is really fast, the aerobic equivalent of running as hard as you can for 10 kilometers, so itā€™s not clear that the Colorado results have much relevance for backpackers or military personnel. Looney and his colleagues decided to run similar experiments at a range of much slower climbing speeds. The Colorado study had a climbing rate of 21 vertical meters per minute; Looneyā€™s study looks at four different climbing rates of between 1.9 and 7.8 meters per minute, a much more realistic range for hikers.

The overall results are similar to the running results: steeper was once again cheaper. For each climbing rate, choosing a steeper slope corresponded to burning fewer calories. As with the running data, thereā€™s probably a point where getting too steep becomes counterproductive. But the steepest slope in Looneyā€™s study was only about 13 degrees, and in that range steeper was always better.

There was an additional wrinkle in Looneyā€™s protocol: the military is on Arctic operations, so they ran the same protocol at three different temperatures: 32, 50, and 68 degrees Fahrenheit. The two warmer temperatures were basically the same, but the data at 32 degrees was slightly different.

At slower vertical climbing rates, calorie burn rates were higher than normal at 32 degrees, because the subjects were spending extra energy keeping themselves warm by shivering and activating their . At higher vertical climbing rates, calorie burn rates were roughly the same regardless of temperature, presumably because they were working hard enough to stay warm even at 32 degrees. In cold temperatures, in other words, pushing harder can sometimes be more efficient because it saves you the energetic cost of keeping yourself warm. (Conversely, you might imagine that the steepest slopes would cause problems in really hot conditions because youā€™re more likely to overheat.)

The Takeaway

The most important caveat to keep in mind when interpreting these results is that the comparisons are based on a fixed climbing rate. If youā€™re at the bottom of a hill and want to get to the top in a given amount of time, then choosing a steeper route will generally save you energy. If youā€™ve got all the time in the world and donā€™t care how long it takes you to reach the summit, then you might well choose to take a gentler route that will feel easier as you climb.

Most of us, though, live in a world where time is scarce. Even if weā€™re not racing vertical kilometers, weā€™re hoping to make it to the summit and back, or to the next campsite, before dark. In that situation, if youā€™re choosing between two routes, remember this: If one route is twice as steep as the other, youā€™d have to walk twice as fast up the gentler route to reach the top in the same time. Counterintuitive though it may sound, that data shows that under most circumstances, twice as steep is easier than twice as fast.

For more Sweat Science, join me on and , sign up for the , and check out my forthcoming book .

The post Why Steeper Is Cheaper for Climbing Hills appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

It’s no secret that our editors love to ski. With below-freezing temps and plenty of snow in the past month, we have tested more winter gear on the slopes than ever this year. From new ski boots to the perfect shades to heated gloves, below you’ll find eleven items that our editors couldn’t live without this winter.

When you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside.ĢżLearn more.

Away Carry-On Boot Bag 55L

I was taught at a very young age to never check your ski boots, no matter how tedious it might be to carry them onboard. While this practice is heavily rewarded with never having to use rental boots, it’s also downright annoying to carry clunky ski boots through airport terminals. I’m always in search of a comfortable solution, and my new go-to is Away’s ski boot bag.

The bag itself is so spacious that I can fit just about every piece of gear I’ll need for a ski trip, minus the skis (think several pairs of gloves, neck warmers, goggles, a helmet, a few sets of base layers, ski pants, socks, jackets, and of course boots). The bag also has a luggage sleeve, so it pairs nicely with a roller bag. I prefer to wear the bag on my back, but it can be carried as a duffle as well. There are also several clip-closure systems on the bag to help compress it for air travel. The bag itself is on the larger side for boot bags at 55 liters, so when fully stuffed, it may not fit under your seat. That said, I havenā€™t had any problems fitting the bag overhead. ā€”Jamie Aranoff, digital editor

Quinn Snacks, Peanut Butter Filled Pretzel Nuggets

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I just returned from a weeklong backcountry trip, and one of my main food groups was peanut butter-filled pretzels. I’m gluten-free which means I can’t always eat the same snacks as the rest of my team, but these pretzel nuggets from Quinn were so popular that my entire group, including the gluten-tolerant, were snacking. The pretzels are the perfect food for backcountry skiing thanks to the combination of carbs from the pretzel and protein from the peanut (or almond) butter. They’re also perfectly salty with just the slightest touch of sweetness. Now that I’m back in the front country I’ll be looking to try out all the different varieties. ā€”J.A.

Loon’r Hi Flyer Boot

Two years ago, Mammoth Lakes, the sleepy mountain town I call home, received a whopping 73 feet of snow. I spent the majority of that winter shoveling more than skiing. One of my greatest grievances about shoveling was how wet my feet got each day. But no more.

These new knee-high EVA boots bring a smile to my face every time I pull them on. They’re super warm (my feet will go from cold to toasty within a minute of donning a pair) and fully waterproof. The tread on the bottom is sufficient for all but the slickest black ice, and the color is just delightful. Mine are Palisade Peach, a kind of neon orange that looks hilarious as I trade them for my also-bright-orange ski boots. Even though town has been snow-free for a month, I continue to wear them because they grip so well on the icy sidewalks. ā€”Jake Stern, digital editor, ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų

Stellar Equipment Stellar Shell 2.0 and Stellar Pant 2.0

This kit feels like real-deal big mountain body armor. I tend to prefer my waterproof ski layers more on the breathable end of the waterproof/breathable spectrum because I love to hike, sidestep, and boot for stashes, but this new kit from Stellar shifts that paradigm for me.

The Stellar Shell and Pant feel incredibly premiumā€”thick 3-layer material, a secure powder skirt, and excellent pocket placements (including a pass pocket, which should be mandatory on every ski shell in my opinion) all make for the perfect storm-day protection. All waterproof zippers and huge mesh-backed vents really round out what I like about this kit. If you have a sensitive chin, the top of the zipper may bother you until it breaks in a bit, but that’s no problem if you wear a buff. Once it finally snows again, I’ll be wearing this kit while storm skiing bell to bell. ā€”J.S.

On Movement Tight

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A few years ago, sick of constantly having to hike my leggings up during workouts, I decided to forgo them entirely. This past fall and winter, though, I found myself wanting a pair for yoga classes and the gym. I was nervous to reenter the world of elastane and lycra, but the On Studio Tights put all my fears to rest. The seamless front is secure and camel toe-free, the drop-in side pocket on the right leg conveniently stores my phone, and the elastane and recycled polyester-blend fabric are wicking and breathable even in 95-degree Fahrenheit yoga classes. Most importantly of all: they stay put. Iā€™m fully a legging convertā€”at least for this specific pair. ā€”Miyo McGinn, assistant editor, ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų

Tecnica Mach1 LV 120 ski boots

Life’s too short to ski in pain, but if I’m honest, I’ve endured far more days of agony on the slopes than ones without. This unfortunate fact is due to my long, narrow, low-volume feet. Most extra-large models are far too wide in the toe box, and too roomy in the arch. My feet swim around, forcing me to either stuff the boot liners with footbeds and padding or to ratchet down the buckles to choke my foot into place. Neither method is particularly comfy.

That recently changed after I purchased a pair of Tecnica’s Mach 1 LV 120 boots. My coworker, digital editor Jake Stern, recommended them after I complained to him about my footwear plight. Prior to joining ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų, Jake was a professional boot-fitter, and he’s the smartest guy on ski gear that I know. I tried them on, along with several other LV models from different brands, and they fit the best. The “LV” stands for “low volume”ā€”yep, boots designed for wonky feet like mine. And after eight days on the slopes thus far, I can say without hesitation that they are the most comfortable pair I’ve ever skied in. I’ve bid adieu to my pre-ski-day Advil, and even my post-ski-day complaints. Thanks, Jake! ā€”Fred Dreier, articles editor, ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų

The North Face Summit Series Breithorn Hoodie

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Itā€™s been an unusually cold and snowy winter here in the Southern Appalachians, which means Iā€™ve spent a lot of time in this over-engineered, incredibly warm puffy. The Breithorn is stuffed with water-resistant 800-fill synthetic down, so I donā€™t have to worry when the snow shower turns into a wet ā€œwintery mix.ā€ This is the puffy many TNF athletes use in bitter cold, high alpine environments, and you could argue that itā€™s overkill for me, considering my mountains top out at 6,000 feet. But Iā€™d argue that you can never be too warm when youā€™re drinking whiskey in the ski hill parking lot after a night skiing session. Also of noteā€”this thick puffy is actually really packable, squishing down to the perfect airplane pillow size. ā€”Graham Averill, travel and gear columnist

Filson Lined Mackinaw Wool Packer Coat

When the Bidens invited my wife and me to swing by their place for the White House Christmas party, my first thought was panic. What on earth does an outdoors writer who lives in rural Montana wear to meet the president? Over a wool suit and a vintage tie, Filsonā€™s flagship jacket was the answer. It kept me warm while waiting in the security line in 30-degree temperatures, and the sheepskin collar added just the right amount of flare for the holidays. I know this not due to my own very limited fashion sense but because the stylist who did Dr. Jillā€™s Vogue cover told me so. The coatā€™s since worked just as well on a particularly chilly visit to the Dallas Country Club, and while dining out with family in Park City. ā€”Wes Siler, contributing editor

Ibex Men’s Woolies Pro Tech Bottom

The new year found me staying in a cabin near Estes Park, Colorado,, and venturing out for hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park. The first thing I put on every day were these lightweight wool leggings from Ibex. The merino/nylon Nuyarn blend was exceptionally soft and warm against the skin, but so thin and stretchy that I didn’t notice they were there. Whatever my level of effort or the weatherā€”ranging from calm, sunny days with temps in the 30s to a howling blizzard with the thermometer barely reaching the teensā€”the Ibex bottoms insulated and breathed admirably under wind- and water-proof outer layers, keeping my leg temperature comfortably regulated. They didn’t even feel stifling sitting in a cafe eating lunch after a morning hike.

The tights are too thin and airy to ever wear alone outside, but they were snuggly as jammies for chilly evenings and nights in the cabin. ā€”Jonathan Beverly, senior running editor, Gear

Ciele VLV Halfzip Running Midlayer

Itā€™s damn hard to design a good midlayer for runners. You need something warm because runners love to head out at 6 a.m. when itā€™s cold and windy. But you also need something that breathes well because running is such a high-output sport. Ciele offers several smart solutions with the VLV. First, they lined the inside with a diamond grid fleece where the center of each diamond is hollow so that lots of air can escape. On first wear it feels like the VLV lets through more air than you would like, but after five minutes itā€™s perfectly regulated for running in temps anywhere from 10 to 40 degrees. The half zip also comes with a two-way zipper so you can open the bottom for ventilation but not have the collar flapping around in your face. I particularly love the purple colorway because thereā€™s not a lot of good purple running gear on the market. ā€”Jakob Schiller,ĢżŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶųĢżcorrespondent

Flint and Tinder Flannel-Lined Hooded Waxed Jacket

Waxed jackets are having a style moment thanks to shows like Yellowstone. And while it looks cool when cowboys flip up the collar on their jackets, Iā€™m here to tell you it adds almost no warmth. The wind will find its way around your neck and youā€™ll still be cold, even if you look tough. Thatā€™s why Iā€™m a much bigger fan of this hooded waxed jacket. I still get the tough-as-nails exterior that develops a beautiful patina over time as well as a flannel-lined hood with a buttery-soft interior that keeps my head, ears, and neck warm when itā€™s bitter outside. The jacket gives off more of an urban vibe instead of making me look like I rode in on a horse, but Iā€™m okay with that. ā€”J.S.

The post The Gear Our Editors Are Loving This Winter appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Within the last few weeks, I would bet my last that someone has asked you, ā€œDo you watch Severance?ā€ And if you said no or blinked back in confusion, Iā€™m sure Iā€™m not the first one to tell you that itā€™s incredible.

For the un-aquainted, , which first aired in 2022, is set in a futuristic era where a company called Lumon Industries has developed the biotechnology that allows its employees to ā€˜severā€™ their brains into two personalities: your working self and your personal self. Severed people undergo a medical procedure that implants a device in their brain, which causes employees to forget everything about the outside world once they step foot into their work building. Likewise, once they leave, all the memories of what happened during the workday or gone. So in theory, there are ā€œtwoā€ versions of yourself, one who works, and one who doesnā€™t.

After years of anticipation, season two episode one premiered on January 17. And in truth, itā€™s all Iā€™ve been thinking about lately.

The brilliance of the show is that it touches on themes of work-life balance, workplace culture, political expression, and the meaning of memory and community. It makes you think about what life would be like if you had the option to be severed. Youā€™d never have to feel the stress or exhaustion of work ever again, and focus solely on your personal life. On the other hand, you technically create this whole other ā€œyouā€ that knows nothing about yourself or the outside worldā€”just the four walls of your cubicle. As I watch season two as a new episode is released week by week, I start to wonder how being severed would apply to other areas of my lifeā€”like running.

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Would You Sever Your Running Self?

What if, as soon as I slipped on my running shoes, my severed self stepped in and took on all the grunt work? Say one day Iā€™m not looking forward to a tough workout in the cold. If I had a severed running side, I wouldnā€™t have to feel the bitter chill, climb tortuous hill repeats, or endure huffing through race pace miles. Iā€™d step outside in my shoes, and in the blink of an eye, be done and back inside for a post-run snack. Iā€™d reap the rewards of building my endurance and athleticism for fun races and routes without needing to suffer through the not-so-fun parts of a training block.

The fictional scenario sounds tempting. ā€œBut running is supposed to be fun!ā€ You might say. ā€œIf you donā€™t love it, donā€™t do it!ā€ Yeah, yeah, yeah. I agree. But if youā€™ve ever trained for a race, you know there are days when you wish youā€™d picked an easier hobby. Here are some instances in which I wish I was severed:

1. When my alarm goes off at 5 A.M. for my early run and Iā€™m snuggled in bed, sleeping on the cool side of the pillow.
2. When Iā€™m running through pouring-down rain so heavy Iā€™m open-mouth breathing like a carp.
3. When I have to run up a hill that forces me into near slow-motion pace.
4. When I run out of water during a blistering hot run.
5. When the run is so sticky and muggy that I have to peel off the gnats that got stuck to my face one by one.

Turns out the reason why people endure tough, less-than-enjoyable things can be explained by the a theory conceptualized by psychologist Michael Inzlicht from the University of Toronto. The paradox suggests that effort can be both costly and valuable, that, although our genetic makeup pushes us to choose survival above all else (which often does not require climbing high mountains or running long distances), humans have evolved to sometimes choose difficulty over ease.

I asked Inzlicht what the repercussions would be of severing yourself for say, marathon training.

ā€œWhile it might seem appealing to skip the grueling training and just enjoy being race-ready, our research suggests this would likely diminish the overall experience,ā€ Inzlicht says. ā€œWeā€™ve found that effort, despite being aversive in the moment, serves as a crucial source of meaning and satisfaction.ā€

He says that behavioral studies show that people value achievements more when they require significant effort. That rush of emotion you get after a race might not feel as powerful if you didnā€™t spend months of a training block working for it.

ā€œBy removing the experience of effort, we might be removing what makes achievements feel truly significant,ā€ Inzlicht says. ā€œThe struggle itself becomes part of the story and identity. ā€œ

It reminds me of the famous , a study conducted by a psychologist named Walter Mischel in 1970. Mischel would place a marshmallow in front of a child (of preschool age) and tell them that if they waited to eat it, they would be rewarded with a second marshmallow later. The results found that more children were willing to wait longer (the more difficult option) in order to reap the higher reward. Similarly, runners are willing to experience the lows of training because the feeling of crossing the finish line is so powerful.

The study also found that the children who resisted the marshmallow were more likely to be patient in the future and better prepared for ā€œdifficultā€ aspects of life. The same could be said for enduring those tough parts of running. shows that runners, (especially ultramarathoners) have higher levels of self-efficacy compared to those who donā€™t run, which significantly impacts motivation, commitment, and self-control. also report that, because these kinds of runners have strong mental fortitude, they have more efficient emotion regulation strategies, stress-coping mechanisms, and experience less anxiety.

To me, the most glaring part of this research is that most of the time, runners arenā€™t born with this extra mental fortitude, but itā€™s developed through the constant repeated action of enduring hard things like waking up at the crack of dawn, running through the sleet and snow, and tackling scary steep hills.

So if I severed myself, I might not have the same mental toughness that I have today. The same mindset that has helped me tackle problems outside of running, helped me navigate the daily stressors of life, and grow confident enough to seek bigger goals and challenges. In fact, counterintuitively, not suffering through those days when I hate running may ultimately make me love running less.

Of course, the whole scenario is fictional, and so coming to this conclusion might seem sort of inconsequential. But this thought exercise reminds me that itā€™s important to understand why we invest so much time and energy into this silly hobby of ours. It helps us appreciate running even on those crappy days, and itā€™s what gets us through the inevitable lows that come during that race that we train for all year.

Plus, who knows how far biotechnology advancements will go? Maybe severing will one day be a real option. At least now, Iā€™ve made my decision far in advance.

RELATED: Versatile Running Gear You Can Wear All Day, Anywhere

The post ā€˜Severanceā€™ Made Me Reconsider My Commitment to Running appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

My favored route to the top of Mount Sanitas, in Boulder, Colorado, gains some 1,200 feet in just over a mile. It starts on the aptly named Goat Trail and then climbs the East Ridge Trail to the 6,800-foot summit. There are much better trails for running in Boulderā€”less rocky, less steepā€”but I prefer this route up Sanitas because it has a great view, itā€™s near my home, and, if nothing else, itā€™s very efficient.

Iā€™m not a particularly good runner, definitely not fast, but I am consistent. Over the last 15 years, Iā€™ve chugged up Sanitas more than 2,000 times. Occasionally Iā€™ll mix it up with one of those other Boulder trails, where the grade is more running-friendly and my dog can chase new smells, but we always come back to Sanitas. Which is to say, I know the route to the top really, really well. I know where wildflowers appear in yellow and purple bunches in late spring and where ice persists long after winter storms. I know where water pools after summer rain and which pine trees smell like butterscotch.

And I certainly know my pace. The ascent takes me about 30 minutes, depending on how many times I have to pick up my dogā€™s poop. (I once made it to the top in 22 minutes, without the dog, which isnā€™t bad for a middle-aged desk jockey, but for context, Kilian Jornet ran the nearly identical in 14 minutes and 12 seconds, according to).

Even at my slowest, though, Iā€™m at least maintaining a steady jog. So I knew something was different when I suddenly stopped running halfway up. Weird, I thought, as I slowed to a walk with no conscious decision to downshift. It was a bright April day, perfect conditions, and I was glad to be back on Sanitas after a couple of weeks out of town. I had been put-putting along like normal, on a section of trail that steepens considerably after a couple of long switchbacks, and then suddenly I was walking. It felt like running underwater: I was telling my legs to run, but they just wouldn’t go any faster.

I felt fine in every other wayā€”no pain, nothing. I was breathing hard but thatā€™s normal on a trail that ascends more than 1,000 feet per mile. This must be what serious athletes mean by hitting the wall, I thought. But why was I bonking on a trail I know so well? I continued to swim-walk, considering possibilities. Did I need to re-acclimatize to the altitude after being at sea level for two weeks? Did I have a virus that was sapping my energy? Were the effects of aging unfolding the same way Earnest Hemingway, in the Sun Also Rises, described the process of going bankrupt: gradually, then suddenly?

More than a decade ago, surprising research sparked sensational headlines suggesting that endurance training might be bad, not good, for your heart. Articles like ā€œā€ captured the spirit of the moment. The counterintuitive results of these studies turned out to be flawed, but they did jumpstart a series of investigations into the relationship between endurance training and cardio health.

Alex Hutchinson, ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶųā€™s Sweat Science columnist, has written extensively about the subject. Most recently he dug into the latest news in ā€œTwo Promising Updates on Heart Health in Endurance Athletes.ā€ The upshot? Itā€™s clear that endurance training affects the heart, but itā€™s difficult to say exactly what the changes mean. For example, one study found that masters endurance athletes have elevated scores compared to non-athletes, which on the surface is not good. Higher levels of arterial calcium are associated with a higher risk of serious and potentially fatal heart problems in the general population. Thatā€™s because calcium deposits are a sign of possible plaque buildup on the artery walls, and when plaque breaks off it can create a blockage, reducing or stopping the flow of blood.

But the new research goes deeper, examining the difference in plaque between endurance athletes and non-athletes. It turns out that while CAC scores do increase in athletes over time, the athletesā€™ plaque tends to be smooth and hard, and unlikely to rupture compared to the softer plaque found in non-athletes. Crucially, one study found that subjects with higher CAC scores caused by exercise did not have a higher risk of cardiac events.

Endurance training can affect the heart in other ways. Itā€™s a muscle, after all, and it responds to a workout. Researchers have documented micro-scarring in athletesā€™ hearts, for example. But the studies are so far inconclusive when it comes to proving if specific changes are good or bad or neutral on the one thing itā€™s safe to say we all care about: longevity.

Fortunately, a 2022 published in the journal Circulation speaks directly to that issue. It followed 116,221 adults over the course of 30 years. Researchers asked subjects to report on their exercise habits every two years, which provided a much more complete picture of their athleticism over time than previous studies. The takeaway? As Hutchinson sums it up in his reporting, ā€œThe headline result is that those doing 150 to 300 minutes a week of vigorous exercise such as running (or, somewhat equivalently, 300 to 600 minutes a week of moderate exercise such as walking) were about half as likely to die during the study.ā€

Thatā€™s good news for runners who have been confused by the mixed messages on heart health. Five hours of running a weekā€”about exactly how much time I spend going up and down Sanitasā€”is as good for your body as it is for your soul. (Logging more than 300 minutes of vigorous exercise per week yielded about the same benefits.)

Of course, large epidemiological studies canā€™t say anything about an individualā€™s experience. Which is why endurance athletes should take comfort in the latest research, but pay very, very close attention to what their own bodies are telling them.

Halfway up Sanitas, I should have stopped and paid a little more attention to my sudden inability to run. But mostly I felt confused, not worried. And embarrassed. I encountered an acquaintance who was going down the trail, and as she passed, my main goal was to jog a few steps so she didnā€™t see me walking. I barely managed it. Then I started thinking about how late I would be getting to the top, where I was meeting a friend. Would he get impatient and leave?

I kept slogging away, and though my legs felt the sameā€”deadweightsā€”I actually started to feel better about the situation. Just a fluke, I figured, I probably just need a good nightā€™s sleep.

By the time I reached the rocky summit, I felt victorious, like Iā€™d really achieved something. My friend Aaron didnā€™t see it that way.

ā€œYou look like shit,ā€ he said when I arrived on top.

ā€œJust need to catch my breath,ā€ I gasped, like Iā€™d just finished a marathon. I sank gratefully onto a boulder. It took a few minutes longer than expected, but I did catch my breath, and also fended off Aaronā€™s efforts to ask if there were any doctors among the summit crowd. I felt vindicatedā€”and mostly back to normalā€”on the descent.

Two hours later, after eating and drinking and showering, I was ready to write off the whole episode and try Sanitas again the next day. But two things changed my mind. My resting heart rate was still high, over 80, when it normally hovers in the 50s, and when I called my wife, she encouraged me to get checked.

If continuing up Sanitas that day was my first mistake, identifying my second is pretty easy: riding a bike to the urgent care a half mile away. But at this point I was feeling fine. Going to the doctor? Just an abundance of caution. So when the folks at urgent care said they lacked the required diagnostic tools, and I needed to go to the Emergency Room at a hospital across town, I was mostly annoyed. I had to ride home and drive there (mistake number three: driving).

Things only coalesced for me when I was in the ER, hooked up to an EKG machine, and heard an announcement over the intercom: ā€œCardiac alert room 9.ā€

Room 9? That was my room.

An hour later, I was in the operating room getting a stent inserted in my left anterior descending artery. According to the cardiologist, the artery had been partially blocked by an event Iā€™d experienced while running. A piece of plaque, he said, had ā€œexplodedā€ and formed a clot. He couldnā€™t say what had caused it, but he reassured me that the rest of my arteries were fine, and now this one was too.

In my particular case, itā€™s impossible to say if running had any role in the heart attackā€”either as a contributing or mitigating factor. Could exercise have led to an increase in plaque? Or could some level of cardio fitness have protected my heart from damage while the blood flow was diminished? And did I have soft plaque despite running, or did I have hard plaque that ruptured anyway? Was it due to genetics? (My dad, 82, has three stents.)

Regardless, the cardiologist saw no reason for me to change my running habits. Just take it easy for a month, he said, and then I could resume exercising with no limitations. And thatā€™s exactly what I did, first on Sanitas, and then farther afield. In the following months, I rafted the Grand Canyon, trekked in Nepal, and topped 17,000 feet. I drove a moped around northern Vietnam, a stress test if there ever was one.

If that sounds like a post-heart attack bucket list agenda, itā€™s just a coincidenceā€”the trips were already planned. So this is not the part where I reflect on my close call and embrace a newfound fervor to live for today. I like to think that we all have the capacity to appreciate how precious and fleeting life is without having a near-death experience.

But hereā€™s something I have been thinking about on recent runs up Sanitas: Could endurance athletes, even very average ones like me, be their own worst enemies when it comes to recognizing serious medical events? After all, the ability to push through discomfort is literally the definition of endurance. We practice training our minds to overrule our bodies.

That doesnā€™t mean we should start walking instead of running. Heck, plenty of sedentary guys have ignored heart attack warning signs. Thereā€™s no reason to miss out on the well-documented physical and mental benefits of endurance sports.

So rather than backing offā€”and to be clear this is my evidence-free opinionā€”I think we need to push a little harder. Most everyday athletes, even very accomplished ones, donā€™t redline their bodies. Elite athletes may know what hitting the wall actually feels like, but most of us ease up well short of collapse.

What if thatā€™s a mistake? What if knowing the full range of your potentialā€”what it feels like at the outer edges of what youā€™re capable ofā€”is exactly what you need? Will you be more likely to notice, and act, when you enter unfamiliar territory?

Before experiencing a heart attack, I thought I knew the, chest pain chief among them. But of course, itā€™s not so clear cut. On Sanitas, shortness of breath and fatigue were my only complaints, and they were exactly what I expected to experience, to varying degrees, when running up a very, very steep hill.

So go ahead, run hard. Or bike hard or hike hard. But take it from me: if you experience serious changes, take them seriously.

Lewon says he isnā€™t sure if he has good luck or bad, but this was actually his second close call in the backcountry. To hear about his first, listen to of the Out Alive podcast.

The post I Had a Heart Attack While Running. This Is What It Felt Like. appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Itā€™s only 10 A.M., and Aaron Olbur is already breaking a sweat. Partly to blame is the San Diego sun, which even in December shines hot and hard on the asphalt parking lot. The other reason is Olburā€™s hustle. With the help of his team of four, the 39-year-old hauls out big metal rolling racks containing 700 boxes of running shoes from a large sprinter van. He sets up the trademark ā€”a metal platform you stand on to get a 3D digital model of your foot. He has boxes of orthotics and something like an oven to heat them up so they can be shaped to your footā€”right there on the spot.

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Olbur assembles the mobile running store in a parking lot outside a medical office building, aiming to help the doctors, nurses, and patients there get fitted for comfortable and supportive shoes. Heā€™s not a one-man mission but rather represents the second-largest running retailer in the U.S., with 40 stores in 12 states across the countryā€”including a warehouse-sized store adjacent to its headquarters in San Diego.

ā€œSo what weā€™re really doing is weā€™re taking a Road Runner Sports and bringing it into your company,ā€ he says.

People are always happy to see Olbur and his team, who call themselves Shoe Force. He estimates they bring the mobile running store to about 200 businesses a year.

ā€œItā€™s not just runners,ā€ he says. ā€œItā€™s anyone who needs comfortable shoes or an insertā€”which is almost all of us do because thatā€™s just the nature of the world.ā€

Olbur understands this personally. Heā€™s up and moving constantly thanks to his job and his dedication to running. But more than spreading the , Olbur is devoted to helping people find relief for their feet.

ā€œIf I donā€™t go for a run, you can tellā€

Olbur started running 20 years ago, discovering it helped his ADHD and mental health in college.

ā€œRunning has always been that thing to bring my brain back,ā€ he says. ā€œFor physical fitness, I donā€™t know if itā€™s doing anything for me anymore because itā€™s just so repetitive. But for my brain, itā€™s like, if I donā€™t go for a run, you can tell.ā€

He began as so many runners doā€”showing up to a 5-kilometer race in gym shorts carrying two Red Bulls.

ā€œI didnā€™t know what it was. I just didnā€™t even know how far it was. Back in the day, I didnā€™t have a watch or anything. I had no idea,ā€ he says. ā€œI ran this race, and everybody was dressed up as Elvis. It was actually awesome.ā€

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He was hooked and quickly ramped up to half marathons and fulls. At the same time, he decided to move from Chicago to San Diego based on random advice from a friend.

ā€œI just drove across the country with a bag and a box of Cheerios,ā€ he says.

He got a job as a seasonal part-time call center employee at Road Runner, taking shoe orders over the phone.

ā€œI did that for literally three weeks. And Iā€™m like, ā€˜Oh my God, I canā€™t do this,ā€™ā€ he says.

So he made a change but stayed in running. Heā€™s naturally a performer, and he would put on adventure runs at Road Runner stores.

ā€œThere was a big stage that I would stand on,ā€ he says. ā€œWe had a mobile van that we used, but we didnā€™t sell anything out of it. We would only go to places and set up this whole big trailer and just give coupons out.ā€

Then, a job opened up that allowed Olbur to travel all over Southern California and Arizona doing shoe fittings, and he found his calling. Fast-forward to now, and theyā€™ve built it into a mobile running store and shoe-finding experience. Olbur arranges with management at different businesses in the San Diego area to offer the fit-finding service to employees. Some companies cover the cost of a new pair of shoes or insoles, others provide employees with a discount, and some simply offer the service for convenience.

Fit Finding In Action

Back in the parking lot outside the medical office building, Olbur and his team are finding more clients happy to have their feet fitted. No pair of feet are exactly alike, and almost everyone has some kind of issueā€”high arches, flat feet, pronation, plantar fasciitis, hammer toe, corns, calluses. Team member Kim Carter walks shoe seekers through the process.

First, the client steps on a machine called the Fit Finder. Itā€™s a foot scanner that creates a three-dimensional scan of their feet. Road Runner says it captures six foot measurements: foot size, length, width, arch height, instep, and heel width. It also maps the personā€™s balance and pressure points.

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Next, Carter looks at the results on her computer. They show the customerā€™s size, along with detailed information about their feet, and suggest shoes that would work best.

ā€œItā€™s like a mobile book fair, but with the technology to see exactly what kind of book you need to read,ā€ Olbur says.

Carter uses the results to create custom orthotic insoles. Using a readout from the scan, she puts insoles into a small oven right there in the parking lot, which molds the insoles to their feet.

She grabs running shoes from the mobile racks that would work, slips the insoles in, and helps customers lace up and try out the shoes.

Olbur oversees and jumps in whenever a team member needs assistance. He says the reception is always positive from people who spend a lot of time on their feet. ā€œI mean, theyā€™re literally like, ā€˜Oh, my God, thank you. Iā€™m on my feet 12 hours a day,ā€™ā€ he says. ā€œThe response that we get is, ā€˜When are you coming back? When can you come back next week?ā€™ā€

Shoes That Come to Youā€”a Mobile Running Store

Fitting shoes to feet is nothing newā€”nor are traveling running shoe clinics. , a five-store running retail operation in Chicagoā€™s western suburbs, has a Shoemobile that hit the road in 1969 and still travels the greater Chicago area bringing shoe fittings to high school runners and road race participants. Companies like Fleet Feet and New Balance have also dabbled in mobile clinics. And then of course Phil Knight sold the original Nike trainers out of the trunk of his car.

Stu Slomberg, the chief retail officer for Road Runner, says the company is investing in these traveling fit clinics to address challenges in the modern sales environment. People tend to settle into a shoe brand and model and then buy the same type over and over again online. But meet them where they areā€“literally, at workā€“and you may convince them to shake things up and try something new, he says.

ā€œThe two most important things in life are a good mattress and a good fitting pair of shoes,ā€ he says. ā€œYou are on your feet a lot and you spend, hopefully, seven to eight hours sleeping. Those are the most important things.ā€

But the real key to the success of the mobile running store? Slomberg says thatā€™s Olbur. ā€œAaron has exactly the right energy and style for thisā€”his enthusiasm is infectious and he knows the process so well. His history with the company really shows.ā€

Good Shoes, Good Life

Olbur says that getting non-runners into good shoes could motivate them to start their fitness journey, and while getting people into quality shoes is his main focus, he would love for others to find the peace he has through movement.

ā€œProviding them with their first step of getting something comfortable underneath their feet might get them out the door to go through with that 5K walk or a 2-mile walk or walk their dog or walk with their kids or become a healthier human being,ā€ he says. ā€œSo weā€™re just navigating that and providing that for people.ā€

On that warm sunny morning in San Diego, it is clear Olbur has found his calling. Heā€™s on his feet a lot, too, and was wearing running shoes with his khakis and Road Runner polo. Heā€™s expanded his passion for running into a career of meeting people where they are and getting them into comfortable shoes.

ā€œI found my niche in running shoes where I want to spread that love, I want to spread that to everybody else,ā€ he says. ā€œI feel like it makes me feel better, so why not go out and help others feel better? It goes a long way for me.ā€

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The post A Man, a Van, and 700 Running Shoes appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Earlier this month, the Journal of Applied Physiology published a paper with the title ā€œEvidence on Sex Differences in Sports Performance.ā€ Seems pretty straightforward, but of course itā€™s not. The gap between male and female athletes has become a major flashpoint in debates on whether transgender women and athletes with differences of sexual development, like the South African runner Caster Semenya, should be able to compete in womenā€™s sports.

Three scientistsā€”Michael Joyner of the Mayo Clinic, Sandra Hunter of the University of Michigan, and Jonathon Senefeld of the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaignā€”present a series of seven statements on the topic of sex differences in sport, along with the evidence to support them. Some of them seem obvious, others less so. Whatever your opinion on the debate, I think itā€™s worth considering each of these statements (which Iā€™ll paraphrase) in turn, in order to understand what the current evidence says and where the gaps are. The full paper, including references, is free to read .

A note on terminology: the article deals with differences in sex rather than gender. Although itā€™s an oversimplification, Iā€™ll use the terms male and female to refer to people with XY and XX chromosomes, respectively.

1. Males outperform females in events that depend on strength, speed, power, and endurance.

The evidence cited here is primarily performance data from sports like running, jumping, and weightlifting, where outcomes are easily measured. Among elite adults, the male-female gap is typically above 10 percent. The largest gaps are seen in sports that depend on explosive power, like high jump and long jump, where the gap approaches 20 percent. Field sports are harder to measure, but to the extent that they involve running and jumping and lifting, similar conclusions should apply.

Are these gaps biologically determined, or, , the result of social factors like the limited opportunities for women in sport? Elite performance data, on its own, canā€™t answer this question. But thereā€™s no question that the gap exists, and is nearly universal. There may be some exceptions in activities like , where the determinants of performance are more complex. Overall, though, this statement should be uncontroversial.

2. This male-female gap shows up before puberty.

This seems like a significant claim, because it suggests that males may have a performance advantage that isnā€™t erased even if a transgender woman has undergone hormone therapy to lower testosterone levels. The evidence, once again, is primarily from performance data. Take a look at this graph of age-group track and field results for boys and girls between 7 and 18 years old:

Between the ages of 7 and 9, boys seem to be ahead, on average, by 4 to 5 percent. The gap narrows between the ages of 10 and 12, presumably as girls start puberty earlier than boys. After the age of 13, male puberty gets going and the gap widens rapidly.

So what gives 8-year-old boys an edge? As Joyner and his colleagues acknowledge, itā€™s once again hard to distinguish between biological and social factors. There is a possible hormonal explanation. We undergo a ā€œminipubertyā€ during the first few months of life, with a temporary increase in sex hormones that is associated with a subsequent increase in muscle and decrease in fat accumulation in boys. But itā€™s also true that boys tend to spend more time running and jumping in unstructured play, and this may reflect gendered social expectations rather than sex differences.

Overall, the small gap in pre-puberty performance doesnā€™t seem like strong evidence of ineradicable differences between males and females. Instead, itā€™s the subsequent shape of that curve that, as weā€™ll see, turns out to be more significant.

3. The gap widens with puberty, along with changes in body structure and function.

In the graph above, male-female differences accelerate dramatically after the age of 13 and continue all the way to adulthood. Now it gets harder to attribute the changes to social factors, because there are a host of other changes that accompany puberty and are associated with sports performance: males see a greater increase in muscle, airway and lung size, heart size, oxygen-carrying capacity of the blood, and so on.

Perhaps the most obvious difference is height: by the age of 20, the average male is taller than 97 percent of women. Differences in lung size or hemoglobin levels are invisible to us; differences in muscle mass could conceivably be because boys are encouraged to work out more. But height? We see it all around us, and accept that itā€™s driven by biological sex differences.

4. The main driver of the male-female performance gap in adults is the surge in testosterone during male puberty.

Hereā€™s when things get more contested. Where, you might ask, is the randomized controlled trial proving that males who go through puberty without testosterone are worse athletes, or that females who go through puberty with male levels of testosterone are better athletes? Such studies havenā€™t been done, for obvious practical and ethical reasons.

Joyner and his colleagues argue that we can instead piece together the evidence from studies showing links between testosterone levels and increased physical performance during puberty; the various studies in humans and animals showing testosteroneā€™s effects on muscle, bone, and blood parameters; doping studies where volunteers took testosterone; and strong circumstantial hints like the graph above showing the widening performance gap during puberty. The evidence here isnā€™t perfect, but as a whole itā€™s convincing.

5. Body changes during female puberty can have negative effects on sports performance.

This is an angle I hadnā€™t thought much about. The discussion usually focuses on the advantages conferred on males by testosterone, but there are a distinct set of changes that females experience during puberty. For example, they accumulate more body fat; their growth plates fuse so they stop growing taller; they develop breasts, which can alter balance and movement patterns; their hips widen, which may increase injury risk; they experience hormonal fluctuations associated with the menstrual cycle that may (or may not!) affect performance; they may eventually miss training time during pregnancy and face increased injury risk when returning to training after childbirth.

Thereā€™s no doubt that all these changes occur, and that they have the potential to influence performance. Whether they collectively make a significant contribution to the gap between male and female athletic performance is less clear. Itā€™s worth considering, but Iā€™d classify it as an open question for now.

6. Suppressing male testosterone levels after puberty only partly eliminates the male-female performance gap.

Thereā€™s a smattering of case studies and comparison studies to support this statement. A 2023 U.S. Air Force in Military Medicine, for example, tracked fitness test scores for nearly 400 transgender servicemembers for up to four years after they began hormone therapy. For transgender women, performance on some tests, like the 1.5-mile run, ended up corresponding to average female times by the fourth year of hormone therapy. But for other tests like push-ups, there were still differences.

Here’s how push-up scores evolved in transgender women over the course of four years of hormone therapy. The red band shows the range of male scores within one standard deviation of average; the blue band shows the corresponding womenā€™s range. Scores are still higher than average even after four years.

One reason for the retained advantage is that some of the changes that occur during puberty are irreversible. Those who go through male puberty will, on average, be taller and have bigger lungs. Theyā€™ll lose muscle mass during hormone therapy, but still retain more than the female average. Thereā€™s also evidence for ā€œmuscle memory,ā€ a phenomenon that makes it easier to build muscle if youā€™ve previously had it.

It’s worth noting that the significance of retained advantages will vary from sport to sport. Greater height and muscle mass matter a lot in sports like basketball and rugby; they may matter less in, say, marathon swimming.

7. Adding testosterone improves female performance, but doesnā€™t eliminate the male-female gap.

This claim is the mirror image of the previous one: transgender men improve various facets of sports performance after beginning hormone therapy, but they donā€™t gain the full ten percent. This supports the idea that testosterone matters for performance, but that timing also matters: it plays its most significant role during puberty.

These are the seven claims that Joyner and his co-authors make. Some are stronger than others. But even if you take them all at face value, they donā€™t tell you what the rules for transgender or intersex athletes should be. That involves a difficult balance between fairness and inclusion. Maybe the male-female differences discussed here are the most important consideration; maybe theyā€™re outweighed by other factors. I donā€™t think there are any easy answers here, but any compromises we reach need to acknowledge that these differences exist and are persistent.

For more Sweat Science, join me on and , sign up for the , and check out my forthcoming book .

The post Sex Differences in Sport Are Hugely Controversial Right Now. Hereā€™s What Science Does (and Doesnā€™t) Know. appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

One of the funny little details in Eliud Kipchogeā€™s attempts to run a sub-two-hour-marathon was the electric pace cars. In Nikeā€™s Breaking2 race in 2017, they used a Tesla. In the INEOS 1:59 Challenge, where Kipchoge actually broke the barrier, it was an Audi e-tron equipped with a specially built cruise control that was accurate to within less than a meter over the entire marathon distance. ā€œThere will be no emissions out of the back to upset any of the runners,ā€ one of the INEOS engineers .

Was this just window-dressing, like the strips of aerodynamic tape that the Breaking2 runners pasted to their calves? Or does a bit of exhaust in the air actually slow you down? over the years have attempted to answer this question, but the results have been unclear, in part because itā€™s difficult to get accurate readings of air quality on the racecourse itself. But a new study from a research team at Brown University, led by Elvira Fleury and Joseph Braun, offers a more definitive answer: it matters.

The Problem with Particulate Matter

Fleury and Braun used a ā€œspatiotemporal machine learning modelā€ to produce detailed hyperlocal estimates of exactly how much fine particulate matter was in the air at each mile marker along the courses of nine major marathons in the U.S. for each year between 2003 and 2019. The model integrates readings from nearby air sensors with satellite data, weather, topography, and other inputs.

Fine particulate matterā€”also known as PM2.5 or, more familiarly, sootā€”refers to particles that are less than 2.5 microns in diameter, and is produced by internal combustion engines, forest fires, and other sources. Itā€™s easy to inhale, and can cross from your lungs into your bloodstream, triggering inflammation and oxidative damage that raises the risk of heart disease, diabetes, and other conditions. When youā€™re running, you breathe more air than usual, and suck it in through your mouth, which bypasses the nasal filtration (i.e. hairs) that would otherwise catch some of the particles. This triggers a variety of problems, including constricting the blood vessels that supply your muscles with oxygenā€”bad news for a marathoner.

The machine learning model showed that PM2.5 levels varied widely from place to place and year to year. Levels in Boston and Chicago were as high as 20 micrograms per cubic meter in some years, and as low as 2 or 3 micrograms per cubic meter in others. Other courses like New York, Houston, and Los Angeles were in a similar range. The study, , combined this pollution data with 2.5 million finishing times, adjusting for other factors like heat and humidity.

How Does Air Pollution Affect Marathoners?

Before digging into the results, itā€™s worth pausing to consider what weā€™d expect to see. On a superficial level, there are two big trends to consider. The obvious one is that slower runners are out there longer, so weā€™d expect the total amount of time lost to increase with finishing time. The other one is that faster runners tend to breathe more heavily, so they suck in more particles per breath and lodge them more deeply in their respiratory systemsā€”so we might, conversely, expect the effects to decrease with finishing time.

The most important question, though, is whether there are any effects at all. Overall, male marathoners at a given percentile finishing position were 32 seconds slower for each increase of 1 microgram per cubic meter in PM2.5 levels; female marathoners were 25 seconds slower. That may sound like a modest effect, but it seemingly suggests that average Chicago Marathon times in a low-pollution year like 2019 (~3 micrograms per cubic meter), might be around eight minutes faster than in a high-pollution year like 2011 (~20 micrograms per cubic meter). Even if that turns out to be an overestimateā€”Iā€™ve taken the most extreme comparison I could findā€”it suggests that weā€™re talking about minutes rather than milliseconds.

Here’s how the effect varied depending on finishing position. The graphs below show finishing percentile on the horizontal axis, with first place on the left and last place on the right. The change in finishing time per microgram per cubic meter of PM2.5 is on the vertical axis. Graph A shows male finishers, graph B shows female finishers.

In both cases, the pattern is roughly the same. The fastest finishers have a relatively small effect; the median (which for most of the races tends to be between 4:00 and 5:00) and slightly-faster-than-median finishers have the biggest effect; and the slowest finishers have a smaller effect.

What explains this curve? Itā€™s hard to know. It could be competition between the two factors I mentioned above: shorter exposure time protects the faster finishers, less heavy breathing protects the slower finishers, but runners in the middle get hammered. There are also lots of other possibilities. Maybe more well-trained runners are less affected by breathing discomfort. Maybe the anti-inflammatory effects of high aerobic fitness confer some protection from the negative effects of pollution. Maybe you actually adapt to polluted air if you train in it enough. There are glimmers of evidence for all these effects, but they remain speculative.

What These Air Pollution Findings Mean in Practice

The idea that air pollution hurts athletic performance certainly isnā€™t newā€”recall when U.S. athletes wore breathing masks to protect their lungs with they arrived in Beijing for the 2008 Olympics. Whatā€™s different here is that the effects are showing up even at very modest levels of air pollution. The for 24-hour exposure to PM2.5 is 35 micrograms per cubic meter, well above the levels seen in any of the races. The full-year standard was lowered last year from 12 to 9 micrograms per cubic meter. Of all the race-years analyzed, 61 percent of them were below this more rigid 9 micrograms per cubic meter standardā€”and yet these pollution levels still impacted race times.

One takeaway, then, is that if youā€™re going for a big marathon PR and you have a private pace car guiding you, it might be worth going electric. More generally, add air quality to the long list of factors to consider in choosing a race or evaluating a performance after the fact. If you set your PR at Boston in 2004, or Chicago in 2011, or Philadelphia pretty much any year before 2015, your coulda-shoulda-woulda time just got a few minutes faster.

For more Sweat Science, join me on and , sign up for the , and check out my forthcoming book .

The post Why Even a Little Bit of Air Pollution Slows You Down appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

One of the big debates in endurance sports these days is about ā€œtraining intensity distribution,ā€ which is a fancy term for how much of your training time you spend going easy, medium, or hard. The dominant paradigm is the polarized distribution, which calls for a lot of easy running, a little bit of hard running, and not much in the middle. But there are various other viewpoints, including the currently fashionable Norwegian training, which puts a heavy emphasis on medium efforts.

One way of exploring which training distribution is best is to look at the training diaries of the best endurance athletes in the world. Thatā€™s how the concept of polarized training was born, and itā€™s why Norwegian training is rising in popularity. Of course, this isnā€™t as reliable as a randomized trial. Maybe most elite athletes train in a certain way because itā€™s popular, not because itā€™s objectively better than the alternatives. And even if we figure out the best way for elites to train, itā€™s not clear that those insights will apply to the rest of us.

Another option to assess training intensity is to look at how the unwashed masses train: to sift through reams of data looking for the patterns and variables that predict the best race performances. Thatā€™s the approach taken in , from a group of researchers led by Daniel Muniz-Pumares of the University of Hertfordshire and Barry Smyth of University College Dublin. They analyzed 16 weeks of training data leading up to a marathon for 120,000 runners who recorded their training in Strava.

To Run Faster, Run More

Before delving into the nitty-gritty of training intensity distributions, we should start with the elephant in the training room. By far the best predictor of marathon time was how many miles a runner racked up. The researchers divided their sample into half-hour finishing groups: the fastest group was the sub-2:30 marathoners, the slowest group was those between 6:00 and 6:30.

On average, the runners accumulated 28 miles per week over the 16 weeks prior to their goal race. But there were big differences. Sub-2:30 runners ran 67 miles per week, about three times as much as those running slower than 4:30 and 60 percent more than even the sub-3:00 runners. Hereā€™s the weekly mileage (in kilometers, on the vertical axis) as a function of marathon finishing time (in minutes, on the horizontal axis):

This is the menā€™s data; the womenā€™s data show essentially the same pattern. The four different lines show the average mileage during four different four-week blocks before the race. There are some slight differencesā€”mileage is highest five to eight weeks before the race, for exampleā€”but the overall pattern is the same throughout: faster runners run more.

What the Training Intensity Distribution Reveals

You could be forgiven for thinking that this is painfully obvious. But whatā€™s interesting is how the faster runners ran more. They didnā€™t just scale up their training proportionally compared to the slower runners. Instead, the difference was almost exclusively in how much easy running they did.

You can divide the accumulated training into three zones loosely corresponding to easy, threshold, and interval or race pace. (I wonā€™t belabor the details of how they crunched the training data or defined the zone boundaries, but itā€™s based on calculating each runnerā€™s critical speed using the approach I described in this article.)

When you break out the different training zones, you find that runners of all levels, from sub-2:30 all the way through 6:30 marathoners, did virtually identical amounts of hard zone 3 training. They also did very similar amounts of zone 2 threshold training. Thereā€™s a slight trend toward the faster runners doing a bit more, but itā€™s barely noticeable. All the variationā€”remember, thereā€™s a threefold difference in total training volumeā€”is packed into easy zone 1 running.

The graph below is a little busy (it once again breaks out the results into four-week blocks, even though the trends in each block are similar). The key point is that the red lines (zone 3) are flat, meaning that all the different pace groups accumulated similar amounts of hard running time. The orange lines (zone 2) are nearly flat. But the green lines curve sharply upward on the left side of the graph, showing that the faster runners do more easy running.

So Itā€™s Polarized Training for the Win?

That depends on what you mean by ā€œpolarized.ā€ Thereā€™s a fairly convoluted debate (which I summed up here) on the meaning of the term, but there are two key elements. One is the idea that most of your running should be easy. Thatā€™s often summed up (as in the title of ) as 80-20 running: around 80 percent of your running should be easy, with the other 20 percent medium or hard. Muniz-Pumaresā€™s new results support this view.

The second element is the idea that you should avoid medium intensities, since theyā€™re too slow to give you the benefits of interval training but too hard to recover from if youā€™re trying to run big miles. That is where the name ā€œpolarizedā€ originally comes from, since most of your training is supposed to cluster at the extremes of easy or hard. But the new data doesnā€™t back this claim up: very few of the runners, whether fast or slow, were doing truly polarized training.

What the runners were doing instead is called pyramidal training. Classic polarized training might involve an 80:5:15 breakdown of easy, medium, and hard. Pyramidal training, instead, might be 80:15:5. Instead of avoiding the middle zone, you do a moderate amount. In practice, though, the distinction between polarized and pyramidal is hazier than it seems. Previous research has found that the exact same training plan might look either polarized or pyramidal depending on whether you calculate the intensity distribution using running speed, heart rate, or even the intended effort.

The bottom line, from my perspective, is that itā€™s not worth getting too wound up about the specific nomenclature. This data supports the idea of doing lots of easy running and modest amounts of medium or hard running. It doesnā€™t support the idea of avoiding the medium zone. Whether you call that polarized or pyramidal is up to you.

Whatā€™s Lost in Translation

As I noted at the top, this isnā€™t a randomized trial. We know that faster runners did more easy running than slower runners. We donā€™t know if doing more easy running would have turned the slower runners into faster runners. But even if it did, that assumes that the slower runners have the time or desire to run moreā€”and thatā€™s by no means a safe bet.

The fundamental assumption for elites is that their training is primarily limited by what their bodies can handle. Polarized (or pyramidal) training is supposed to be effective because itā€™s an optimal way of racking up the greatest possible combination of training volume and intensity. To max out what your body can handle in a given week, aim for that 80-20 split.

Meanwhile, out in the real world, the key question isnā€™t how much my body can handle. Itā€™s how much training I can squeeze in before work or between picking up the kids and making dinner or whatever. The 3:30 marathoners are putting in about four hours of training per week. Itā€™s not hard to believe that adding an extra hour or two of easy running on top of what theyā€™re already doing would make them faster.

The trickierā€”but also more relevantā€”question is how to make them faster on four hours of training per week. Switching to an 80-20 split would actually mean doing less total mileage, because they would be replacing a big chunk of their medium or hard running with easy running. Sure, they would recover more quickly from each training session. But would they really end up going faster?

This is an open question, and I donā€™t think thereā€™s any firm answer at this point. But my takeaway from all this is that we should think carefully about what constraints weā€™re imposing or accepting on our training. If time is really the issue, then spending more of that precious time running hard might make sense for you. But if ā€œI donā€™t have timeā€ is just another way of saying ā€œI donā€™t want to,ā€ or if youā€™ve been held back by the fatigue and injuries that often accompany hard training, then itā€™s worth considering doing more easy running. Itā€™s the easiest and least risky type of trainingā€”and in this analysis, at least, itā€™s the one weird trick that distinguishes faster marathoners from slower ones.

For more Sweat Science, join me on and , sign up for the , and check out my forthcoming book .

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Winter is finally here in full force, and our editors have been enjoying every last drop of snow (and sometimes rain) outside. From touring up our local ski hills to early-morning winter runs before work, we’ve tested countless pieces of gear this December. Below are the 12 pieces we’ve enjoyed the mostā€“permission granted to steal some ideas for last-minute holiday gifts.

When you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside.ĢżLearn more.

Skida High-Pile fleece hat

I use this fleece beanie year-round, but this month I havenā€™t left the house without it. Historically, Iā€™ve struggled with headwear. I have a big-ish head and even bigger hair, which makes it challenging to find hats that donā€™t make my head look even more globe-like than it already does, or leave a crease in my curlsā€”or both. Skidaā€™s high-pile fleece hat, on the other hand, manages to check the boxes for both style and function. The thick recycled Polartec fabric is super cozy, and the four-cornered top and boxy shape stays in place on my hair without crushing it. Itā€™s not the only hat I own, but itā€™s pretty much the only one I wear. ā€”Miyo McGinn, assistant editor

Helly Hansen LIFA Merino Midweight Base Layer

I’m guilty of integrating my most technical, purpose-made outdoor garments into my rotation of everyday outfits. Yep, I’m the guy who wears his backcountry skiing midlayer to the office, and brings his $100 cycling gloves along while trick-or-treating. It should be no surprise, then, that I’ve used Helly Hansen’s cozy LIFA merino baselayerā€”which is designed for the coldest days on the slopesā€”for a wide array of banal activities that don’t involve skiing.

I wear this base layer when I walk the dog and shovel drifts off my driveway. I’ve worn it under my cycling jacket on long, cold bike rides. And yes, I’ve also worn the top as a long-sleeve shirt under a vest for trips to the grocery store. I realize this makes me a walking, talking, fashion faux pas. But I love this base layer. It’s incredibly warm, and it doesn’t itch or run like other ones made from synthetic material. And it also doesn’t look like long underwear. The merino layer is thicker than the other ones I own, and the angled stitching makes the garment look more like a technical long-sleeve t-shirt than an undergarment. So, for now, I plan to continue wearing my technical base layerā€”and other outdoor gearā€”to the mall, movies, and office. Call the fashion police. ā€”Fred Dreier, articles editor

Nike Pegasus 41 Gore-Tex Shoes

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I recently doubled the number of miles Iā€™m running each week as I ramp up training for a Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim attempt in May. That means Iā€™m running rain, snow, or shine, and have come to rely heavily on the Gore-Tex version of the Pegasus 41, Nikeā€™s well-known stability shoe.

Thanks to the waterproof liner, my feet stay dry, and more importantly warm, when I have to run through puddles or in a downpour. Cold feet, like cold hands or ears, is one of the easiest ways to lose motivation when Iā€™m already straining physically on a long or fast-paced run. Thereā€™s no way to keep a little water from leaking in the cuff when itā€™s truly pissing rain, but if I keep the shoes tight and wear a mid-high sock, my feet stay dry enough to keep me happy. I also appreciate the reflective details all over the shoes that shine bright when Iā€™m trying to avoid cars on early morning winter runs. ā€”Jakob Schiller, contributing writer

Pas Normal Balance Insulated Vest

Iā€™m tempted to wear a full windproof jacket every time I head out for a winter run because Iā€™m scared of being cold. But then I remember that after 10 minutes Iā€™ll be too hot and have to carry the jacket for a majority of the miles. As a compromise, Iā€™ve recently run in this lightly insulated vest that adds plenty of warmth early on but breathes well enough once I start sweating.

I love the double zipper that allows me to unzip the vest from the bottom so I can vent without the upper part of the vest billowing in the wind, and the collarless design cuts down on any chafing around my neck and chin. I will say that thanks to extra-warm PrimaLoft insulation, the vest adds too much heat for runs when itā€™s above freezing. But itā€™s perfect for days when temps are hovering somewhere between 15-30 degrees. ā€”J.S.

Outdoor Research x Mark Abma Skytour AscentShell Jacket and Bibs

I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical of a snow-camo printed backcountry skiing kit. But the black arms really do pop against a snowy background. If you vibe with looking like a snow leopard stalking its prey in the alpine, this kit could very much be for you. This print was made by Outdoor Research for US special forces, and the Skytour kit has the features to back it up.

Massive side zips vent heat from an already very breathable fabric that is fully seam sealed and sports watertight zippers. Thoughtful pocket placements and a beacon clip in the left thigh zippered pocket complete this dialed backcountry kit. On a wet, snowy Eastern Sierra tour the other week I was encouraged by the protection and breathability this kit offered. I’m even more excited to see how it will do come spring when the white color will repel the sun’s rays on hot days. ā€”Jake Stern, digital editor

Men’s Baist Classic Glove

Baist Gloves, made in Vermont, are constructed from a waterproof goat leather and tough cordura shell thatā€™s twice as thick at the knuckles and high-wear zones for maximum durability. Theyā€™re built to last, but the real secret sauce is the Baist liner, which Velcros into place inside the shell, providing a seamless, no fuss fit but also the opportunity to remove it and dry it separately at the end of the day.

Baist also gave the glove a few nifty features this year, like an interior pull cord and a velcro wrist strap to make sure snow never reaches your hands, and a loop on the tip of the glove that allows you to hang it upside down to dry. These are the warmest mittens Iā€™ve ever owned. I skied in them all last winter and Iā€™m psyched to pull them back on again now that ski season is upon us. ā€”Graham Averill, ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų travel and gear columnist

Roar Sound Machine and Speaker

This rugged and portable sound machine has become an essential piece of baby gear when we travel with our kiddos. Itā€™s small and simple yet can blast brown noise, ocean waves, or summer rain. You can also connect the Roar to your phone to use it as a portable speaker. I loved the first iteration I tested despite some shortcomings: the sound machine used to alert you with a loud voice command when the battery was low, which woke my sleeping kiddo up in the middle of the night on more than one occasion; and its default volume once turned on was also very loud and startling. The newest version of the Roar addresses both issues by getting rid of the low battery warning and lowering the default volume, making this portable sound machine a no-brainer for families on the go. ā€”Jenny Wiegand, associate gear director

Veer All Terrain Cruiser

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Veteran parents know thereā€™s no such thing as one stroller to rule them all. Active families who are always on the go likely need a compact travel stroller, a jogging stroller, and some sort of gear hauler. We have all three, but these days, the Veer All Terrain Cruiser is getting more use than the others thanks to its versatility.

Unlike many other wagons out there, you can push the Veer like a traditional stroller, which is a really nice feature when youā€™re conveying a heavy load of kiddos and gear. It also has burly wheels that make it easy to navigate off the beaten path. But my favorite feature of this wagon is how compact it is. Unfolded, it seats two kiddos on built-in benches, or it can seat a toddler and accommodate an infant car seat with the appropriate adapter. Folded up with the wheels popped off, it lays flat for easy storage in the trunk of a car, in the roof box, or against the wall of our garage. We even flew with the All Terrain Cruiser in a gate-check bag for a beach vacation last summer, and it came back home with lots of sand but nary a scratch.

At $700, itā€™s expensive and double the price of similar hybrid stroller-wagons like theĢż. But like aĢż cooler, the Veer is over-engineered to be extremely rugged and durable, making it a piece of gear that will stand up to kid abuse, travel, and years of family adventures. ā€”J.W.

“What If We Get It Right?” by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson

Although it’s not gear in the traditional sense, this new book has gotten me throughĢża recent spell of climate anxiety. Written by one of the country’s most notable climate experts, Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, it’s easy, provocative reading that left me feeling both relieved that the climate solutions we need are at our fingertips and inspired to take more climate action myself. Through a series of conversations with experts across a wide range of industriesā€”from farming to finance to film and moreā€”and concrete examples, Johnson examines what the world could look like if we come together and get climate action right. And what that looks like is pretty beautiful. –Kristin Hostetter, head of sustainabilityĢżand contributing editor

Backnobber II

Look simple? Iā€™ve heard my husband call the Backnobber II the best tool in the house. He got it upon the recommendation of the accountant at our old workplace, Big Stone Publishing, at least 10 years ago, and uses it near daily. Mike has chronic shoulder issues from decades of climbing and shooting a bow, and serious back pain, either from some hard falls skiing or just years of charging around.

At such times, the Backnobber, near breathtaking in its S-shaped, dual-knobbed simplicity, saves him, as much as anything can. He hooks and crooks the knots and trigger points in his back, shoulders, and glutes; he can do it even while carrying on a conversation with some pitying friend who comes by to check in. Iā€™ve barely used the thing, but Iā€™ve had a front-row seat in witnessing its efficacy. He thinks it is a miracle worker, and I think for $35, you canā€™t lose. ā€”Alison Osius, senior editor

Smartwool Active Fleece Jogger

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I love winter running once I get out in the fresh air and the miles fly by easilyā€”but I still struggle to layer appropriately, especially on December’s first really cold days when I used to head out in shorts and tee. These 47 percent Polyester, 38 percent Merino wool, and 15 percent Elastane joggers have helped this year by being one cozy, dependable layer for my legs when the thermometer drops. The interior is a soft, brushed fleece that coddles my skin while a smooth, tightly woven exterior protects against wind and moisture. The relaxed fit makes them easy to pull on, but they aren’t so baggy that they get in the way on the run.

Despite being thicker than most running pants, they breathe remarkably well and don’t overheat when I’m warm, like most insulated apparel does. I don’t wear them when it’s over 40 degrees Fahrenheit, but I’ve reached for them a couple of times per week when the thermometer is below freezing and they’ve kept me comfortable from stepping out my door to charging up trails into the windā€”and they haven’t collected any odor despite only one wash all month. ā€”Jonathan Beverly, senior running gear editor

The post The Gear Our Editors Are Loving This December appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Thanks to a wonky hamstring and some bad oysters, Iā€™m currently coming back from a training hiatus of nearly a month. Itā€™s an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling feeling. So I have a lot of sympathy for Romuald Lepers, a French physiologist and dedicated triathlete who, in the name of science, agreed to take 12 weeks completely off training in 2022.

With the help of his colleagues, Lepers underwent a whole bunch of tests immediately after competing in the Swimrun World Championships in Sweden that fall. After 12 weeks of sloth, he repeated the tests. Then he resumed training and, 12 weeks later, repeated them a third time. The data is presented in a pair of papers in and , offering a detailed look at exactly what happens when you lose then regain fitness, and raising a surprising and tantalizing possibility: maybe a long training break is actually good for you.

Two Theories of Aging

runs a lab at the University of Bourgogne in Dijon, and is one of the world experts on masters athletes, which typically refers to athletes over the age of 40. Heā€™s also an accomplished triathlete. In his younger days, he placed in the top 150 at the Ironman World Championship in Kona. At the time of the study, he was 53, training 10 to 12 hours per week, and still consistently placing near the front of his age category in Ironman 70.3 races.

Over the course of more than three decades, he trained very consistently, never missing more than two weeks of training at a time. So he decided to run an experiment on himself to fill a gap in the literature. There have been various ā€œdetrainingā€ studies over the years that measure the loss of fitness when you stop training. A classic 1984 paper, for example, saw a 16 percent reduction in VO2 max after 12 weeks; and this analysis estimated how much a training break of a week or more will affect your marathon time. But thereā€™s very little data on older athletes.

Thereā€™s an important debate about fitness loss in older people. We know that it happens, and we know roughly how quickly it happensā€”on average, at least. Starting in your 30s, youā€™ll typically lose 0.5 to 1 percent of your VO2 max every year; youā€™ll also lose muscle mass at a similar rate. One view is that this happens gradually and inexorably. The other view, sometimes referred to as ā€œ,ā€ is that we decline at a much slower rate, but every once in a while we have mini-catastrophesā€”a prolonged bout of flu, a broken hip, a period of intense work or family stress during which we abandon all exercise habitsā€”that lead to a sharp drop. Even if we resume normal training after one of these blips, we never quite make it back to our previous level, so these interruptions contribute disproportionately to our advancing decrepitude.

When youā€™re 20, you can take 12 weeks off and then, with a bunch of hard work, get right back to where you started. Lepersā€™s case study offers a test of whether the same is true in your 50s, or whether the bodyā€™s adaptive potential is so blunted that some of the losses become permanent.

What Happened After a 12-Week Training Break

The Frontiers in Physiology paper focuses on Leperā€™s changing fitness. Most notably, his VO2 max, as measured in a treadmill running test, dropped by 10.9 percent. In a similar test on an exercise bike, it dropped by 9.1 percent. Thatā€™s a big drop, equivalent to about 15 years of normal aging, but itā€™s on the low end compared to previous detraining studies. The penalty for time off in your 50s doesnā€™t seem to be any worse than in your 20s.

When he started training again, there was a surprise. After 12 weeks, his VO2 max didnā€™t just recover; it was better than when he started. In the running test, it was 4 percent higher than baseline; in the cycling test, it was 6 percent higher. Thereā€™s some inherent variability in VO2 max testing (and in all physiological testing, for that matter), but the fact that the same pattern showed up in the running and cycling tests suggests that the effect is real.

For a guy whoā€™s been training and competing at a high level almost continuously for three decades, thatā€™s an unexpected result. There are a couple of possible explanations. One is that his body composition changed. VO2 max is expressed relative to your body weight, so losing weight can create the illusion that you got fitter without changing your oxygen-processing abilities.

Thatā€™s not what happened here, though. His body did change: he initially gained 5.5 pounds of fat and lost 4.6 pounds of muscle. Then, after retraining, he lost 9.0 pounds of fat and regained 2.4 pounds of muscle. That meant his body fat went from 10.1 percent to 13.3 percent to 8.4 percent, with a net loss of 5.7 pounds by the end of the experiment. This explains some of the change in VO2 max, but not all of it: his overall oxygen-processing capacity still improved, independent of his weight.

The other possibility is that something changed within his muscles to make them more responsive to training. The second paper, in JCSM Communications, explores this possibility. Lepers underwent muscle biopsies at each stage of the experiment to measure the metabolic properties of his muscles. Detraining ramped up fast-twitch muscle activity and ramped down markers of mitochondrial function and aerobic capacity. Retraining mostly reversed the changes, and in some cases resulted in better-than-baseline muscle properties.

The details of whatā€™s going on inside the muscles are fairly complex, and Lepers cautions that we shouldnā€™t read too much into a single case report. (That goes for all the findings; we have no idea if heā€™s just a freak.) But itā€™s interesting that the two sets of results seem to line up: the microscopic properties of his muscle and macroscopic fitness measures like VO2 max both declined with detraining then bounced back to be better than before with retraining.

So Should We All Take a 12-Week Training Break?

When I asked Lepers this question, he raised a couple of interesting points. One is that the psychology of taking such a long break went better than expected. He kept busy with work, ate normally, and didnā€™t stress because he knew that retraining would be a fun challenge. Crucially, he knew that once the 12 weeks were up heā€™d be able to start training again. Thatā€™s very different from, say, missing three months with a lingering injury where youā€™re never quite sure if itā€™s going to go away.

He also noted that many of his masters friends used to take long end-of-season breaks of a month or more when they were younger. But the older they get, the shorter and less frequent their breaks have become, presumably because theyā€™re afraid that whatever fitness they lose theyā€™ll never get back. If thereā€™s one big headline finding from Leperā€™s self-experiment, itā€™s that this isnā€™t true, or at least wasnā€™t for him. That should help other masters athletes be a little less paranoid about the dangers of an occasional training break.

We canā€™t really claim, on the basis of a single case report, that taking 12 weeks off will enable you to break through and reach new levels of fitness. But even if you donā€™t return better than before, the idea that you can get back to your previous level is very reassuring. Over the years, Iā€™ve found that I enjoy being fit, but what I really love is getting fit: the sensation of steady progress when week after week your times are dropping and your workouts are getting better. That feeling is increasingly hard to come by when youā€™ve been training for a long time. The best part of training breaks, from my perspective, isnā€™t vegging out on the sofa during the break; itā€™s getting back on the horse.

For more Sweat Science, join me on and , sign up for the , and check out my forthcoming book .

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