David Roche gets low marks again, this time for his lack of commitment and invocation of pseudo-physics
The man should be credited for his unmatched words-to-ideas ratio, as should Zoe Rom for allowing him to publish free of editorial interference
Executive summary: There’s a difference between spitballing ideas based on scientific research—i.e., actually “theorizing”— and simply rattling off ex-phys glossary terms with scarcely more context than a tropical bird. It’s not a difficult difference to discern if you have a degree in, say, physics or mechanical engineering, and shouldn’t be all that hard to detect if you can simply parse content for ground-level legitimacy.
Earlier this summer, this happy-space spontaneously acquired a reviewer of the articles the intellectually dishonest pundit and coach David Roche writes for the functionally unedited online-only publication Trail Runner. This reviewer has been quietly busy dissecting, among other output, an August 16 item titled “6 Lessons From How The Best Athletes Train… In Cycling.”
“I don’t think ellipses…….belong here,” says the reviewer of the title, who took up a specific task for this post: “For shits and giggles, I’m going to highlight every wishy-washy nondefinitive statement.” Owing to the formatting limitations of Substack, I have presented all of these hedges in bold italics. The reviewer’s comments are bolded and enclosed [in square brackets], and I have supplied some bold metasnark {in curly brackets}.
I have never started or finished a real ultramarathon myself (a mostly flat 50K on golf-cart paths doesn’t count), so whenever I read Roche’s work, the badly dilapidated prose—which manages to be mostly grammatically correct and a linguistic petrochemical fire at the same time—grabs most of my attention no matter what the man is allegedly striving to convey. I therefore assume that the reading perspective of the reviewer—who has finished multiple races of 50 miles and longer and was once capable of low 19’s for 5K—more closely mimics that of the typical very-long-distance runner than mine does.
Either way, the comments are potentially extremely edifying, and they likely give me excuses to briefly procrastinate possibly putting Roche or a different fact-mangling goober-face on blast myself.
A wonderful 2022 study has novel insight into the training of 3 top finishers at the Giro d’Italia, one of the biggest cycling stage races of the year. The case studies [Is it one case study of three athletes or multiple studies?] show that what we expect athletes to do in theory and what they actually do in practice can diverge.
UTMB is one of the hardest events in all sports. [Why do you start the article discussing a running race when the title is about how cyclists train?] It starts at 6 PM, and as the sun falls that first night, so do athlete [athletes’] dreams. [what about the winners’ dreams or those of runners who set PRs?] The big, abstract goals get chewed up by the reality of high stakes on unforgiving trails. [What about practical goals, like finishing within a certain time, or within the top 10?]
Then UTMB proceeds to swallow souls. [Do the souls taste good on the chewed-up side with the big, abstract goals?] But the real reason the race has trained away its gag reflex [how does one “train away” a gag reflex?] for soul-swallowing is that it’s competitive as hell.
Whoever writes the iRunFar previews is entitled to compensation for workplace carpal tunnel syndrome. When dozens of pro athletes on the start line are putting every drop of their souls on the line at the race, it turns into a physiological demolition derby. [Hyperbolic much?]
The science on ultra training is still uncertain, [is it?] with few comprehensive studies out there on the methods that work best. [Funny, because Trail Runner has dozens of articles, some written by you.] We’re in the process of figuring out what physiological variables correlate with top performance. I bet we get there in 10-15 years, and I hope to help that growth from the coaching end, but anyone who says there is certainty is smoking some stuff I need to get my hands on.
[As long as we’re betting, I bet I’m the best-looking person of all time. And I say there is certainty in ultra training, but I’m not smoking anything. A lot of ultra-training is derived from marathon training – ya know, high mileage, threshold workouts, race specific workouts, some strides.]
That’s partially because trail running is really complex [Ultra running and trail running aren’t always the same thing, ya know. You mention ultrarunning, now trail running. Oy vey.]
The sport is just recently getting competitive enough that it’s required to optimize every variable possible. [It may be more competitive now, but it has been competitive for decades.] Even at UTMB, the most competitive race in the world [is there data backing that up, or is this shoot from the hip “data”?], the margins aren’t so narrow that athletes are desperately seeking every 0.1%. [But aren’t they? I’ve heard about cyclists minimizing weight on the bike, aerodynamics, etc.]{What are dopers desperately seeking? Suspensions? Susan?} That’s why I love looking at other sports for lessons on endurance training at the peak of human capabilities. In cross-country skiing or cycling, physiologists are working with coaches and athletes to wring every drop out of endurance performance. [OK, why mention only those two sports?]
That brings me to one of the most fun [do all these adjectives belong in journalistic writing?] {Not really, but those and a continual roil of bafflegab how he gets clients} studies of 2022. Published in June in the Scandinavian Journal of Medicine & Science in Sports, the study examined 22 weeks of training for 3 male athletes that finished in the top 5 of the Giro d’Italia in recent years … To achieve the results, these 3 athletes had to tune their physiology to the absolute limit. [Top athletes training to their maxes? Groundbreaking.]
It’s rare to get such a clear look at the training of the best athletes of the world in any sport [is it? Molly Seidel had plenty of her training on Strava], so I was downright giddy when I saw the study abstract.
I expected some major workout porn (hence the 5 extra copies) [thought those were for when you were lonely at night?], full of massive weeks, quad-busting workouts, and lifestyles that would make a monk grow hair just so they could pull it out.
While cycling is an interesting analogue for any endurance sport, it has very little mechanical stress [WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! If anyone agrees with that statement, pick up a physics book] {or sit on a bike on a level surface and wait for it to move itself up the fuckin’ road}. My guess is the mechanical load from running down a few mountains at the start of UTMB is higher than the mechanical load from the entire 21 days of bike racing, depending on how you measure it. [Your guess, “depending on”, Christ. I believe I’d run a 5K 3 minutes faster on acid than carrying a gorilla.] The cyclists are aerobic engines operating in a near-vacuum [Nope!] {Air is a fluid, dispshit, and drag force increases with the square of velocity}, whereas the runners are aerobic engines being tested in the middle of a hurricane. [Enough with the hyperbolic bullshit.]
Bikers are optimizing performance for 4-6 hour days mostly, while runners are looking at 20+ hours, followed by a couple weeks of hibernation. [Do runners always hibernate post race? Do cyclists never take blocks off?] The physiology of fatigue resistance is likely similar at both durations and across multiple days, but it’s possible that different mechanisms will be rewarded. [Likely, OK. Possible, OK. If you don’t know, don’t mention it.]
Finally, cyclists wear shorts with perineum protection. This isn’t directly related to training, but I think we could learn a thing or two from how they watch their blind side. [Don’t the shorts protect the crotch/front as much as the ass?]
6 lessons (7 if you count the perineum thing), let’s do this!
[..If we must…]
One: Athletes can excel off less aerobic volume than may be traditionally prescribed.
The three athletes’ weekly averages were far lower than I’d expect: 14.7 hours, 16.2 hours, and 19.7 hours. While that sounds high [it doesn’t if you know anything about professionals], cycling is non-impact, so there is no injury limitation. [Describing how stupid this statement is would require pages.] These are professionals who are being paid the big bucks, so if more training would be better for their aerobic systems, they’d probably do it. [Probably, or would? Did you interview them?] I had always heard 30+ hour training weeks had to be the norm at that level. This study slaps back at that notion. {One study of three riders is sufficient to upend a longstanding norm? This guy……………..}
More is not better past a certain point. [Where is that “certain point” at which more training isn’t beneficial? Your statements are meaningless without context.] Given that running introduces more stress via mechanical demand, it’s likely [likely or definite?] that the optimal amount of time doing aerobic running training is much lower. That aligns with what we see in elite athlete practice, demonstrated in a 2022 study in Sports Medicine–Open, which found 450-700 hours of training per year [is] common for world-leading runners, equating to 9 to 14 hours per week. [9-14 hours a week is a big range, isn’t it?] {Why yes, it is. 14 is 56 percent higher than 9.}
For a trail runner averaging 12-minute miles on tough terrain in Chamonix, the 14.7 hour {sic} week would translate to 73.5 weekly miles, and at 10-minute miles, it would be 88 miles weekly. Even applying the cycling totals directly and not considering the impact stress, those numbers are lower than what some training approaches might expect from the world’s best ultra runners. [In the previous paragraph, you stated 9-14 hour weeks are common for world-leading runners. How is 14.7 hours lower? I’m so fucking confused.]
Two: Pulses of bigger training weeks may accrue adaptations without massive chronic stress accumulation across months. [Duh, I have known this since I started running competitively in 1997.]
While the overall training volume was not astonishingly high, there were some beastly weeks mixed in. The weekly max training was 27.7 hours, 29.3 hours, and 34.4 hours! It’s possible that the long-term volume totals are designed to best adapt to these big pulses, prioritizing the acute stresses of big workouts and weeks over the chronic stress of high monthly totals. [It's possible? Did you investigate and find out? Oh, never fucking mind.]
We could be seeing that higher-volume pulses allow for adaptation without overstress for the best athletes in the world. [We “could be” seeing or are seeing?]
Three: Up to 90%+ of training can be easy for higher-volume endurance training.
Here’s the best part of the study! [Knock off the fucking exclamation points!!] The researchers used a 3-zone model to quantify training intensity. Zone 1 (aerobic) was easy training, capped at 85% of 1-hour power. [Maybe define 1-hour power as LT.] Zone 2 (threshold) training started there [started WHERE?] and went up to 1-hour power. Zone 3 was everything above that, including VO2 max intervals.
This aligns with studies on cross-country skiers and runners. In every endurance sport [did ya study each one?], it seems to be a prerequisite to spend 80%+ of time in Zone 1 in a 3-zone model, possibly to optimize metabolic processes and fatigue management via cellular level changes.
[Seems to be. Possibly. F U C K ME!!!!!!!!!!!]
You know how you hear that easy running is the gateway to fast endurance performances? That’s no longer up for debate–there is no substitute for going very easy. [I didn’t realize it was up for debate? Also should I run easy or VERY easy? There’s a difference.]
Four: Pyramidal intensity distribution is how most pro athletes train in the real-world.
In Pyramidal training, athletes spend the most in Zone 1, followed by Zone 2, with the least in Zone 3. In Polarized training, athletes still spend the most time in Zone 1, but with a higher quantity of very hard work in Zone 3 and less moderate work in the “gray area” of Zone 2. [How is threshold training a “gray area”?]
The general rule is that Pyramidal training leads to slower-burn growth, but that can continue longer (possibly indefinitely). [Sorry, but aerobic growth does not have an infinite range.] {I wouldn’t rule it out; this guy’s bullshitting potential is infinite!}
So over 22 weeks, these athletes demonstrated Pyramidal training by necessity to avoid early stagnation. However, if you zoom in more closely, they did more training around races, showing that pulses of higher intensity may spur better aerobic adaptations from lower intensity work later. [NO SHIT. That’s one of the fundamental tenets of training.] That likely shows that intensity distributions do not need to be set in stone in a block format…
Five: Rest days support long-term adaptation.
The athletes averaged between 0.77 and 1.31 rest days per week. It’s doubtful that these rest days were based on low motivation or limited time availability [do you realize journalists usually RESEARCH and interview?], but rather were about recovery and adaptation within bigger training cycles. Given that cycling has very low injury risk [WRONG] due to low impact forces [there can be impact forces, and there are numerous ways to get injured] {SADDLE SEAT IS THE SUUUUCK!}, these rest days were likely geared toward the nervous and endocrine systems, allowing full resets that can support health and adaptation context. [Sorry, but a 0.77-1.31 rest day is not a “full rest.”]
If world-class cyclists take rest days, we can all take rest days. [DUHHHHHHHH, thanks Captain Obvious.]
Six: Strength work may be more optional than sometimes assumed.
None of the cyclists did any strength training. “That’s interesting,” I thought, especially since the research indicates that strength work helps cycling performance! [Using exclamation points in articles makes them look unprofessional!] {What about articles on Yahoo! News?!}
But then I read the full paper. {Never a bad idea!} And the authors had something to say about that {reading a whole presentation often reveals the author’s deeper motives!}: “The reason why strength training was not performed was that the three cyclists were unwilling to perform strength training despite the coaches’ indications.” [If they weren’t willing to follow their coaches’ advice, are they the best subjects for a study?]
While the lack of strength training was not a decision coming from coaches, it does point out a fascinating point: what is demonstrated to work in studies may not apply to all athletes all the time. [This is fucking obvious.] You’d think that if strength work was [were?] so beneficial, it would be a prerequisite to top performance in a sport with such narrow margins like cycling. [Who says they didn’t do it in the off season, or have a base?] The same goes for altitude training (one athlete did zero time at altitude) and tapering (all athletes did less extensive taper protocols than suggested in the literature). Are we seeing that something is missing in the literature?
[For fuck’s sake, there are plenty of articles about taper length, pros and cons of altitude training, and strength training. Just because one athlete did NOT do altitude training, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have.]
I don’t think so. Instead, I think we’re seeing that training is always an N=1 experiment. The studies throw a bunch of N=1s together and can find significant associations, but there will be data points that fall away from the middle of the bell curve (unless it’s a universal intervention like the importance of easy training, which looks less like a bell curve and more like an orgy of dots within a small range). [Do you realize bell curves can have different shapes?] {This is how someone loosely imitating a mathematically astute person writes!}
By examining the N=1s individually, in running and across endurance sports, I think we can get clues that might unlock the next big advance in training theory. The jump from basic physiology to applied physiology is like jumping the Grand Canyon. [Why don’t you try, and let me know how it turns out.] The jump from applied physiology to training theory is like jumping the Atlantic Ocean. [Is it as big as the Grand Canyon or the Atlantic Ocean? One is wider.]
Trail Runner recently did Roche the inverse favor of publishing an article titled “Why You Should Jog the Recovery in Interval Workouts” by Alex Hutchinson, who for years has easily been the best working running journalist and analyst out there. Hutchinson, who has a doctorate in physics from the University of Cambridge, made a case for jogging recoveries in repetition workouts and cleanly and clearly explained why it matters.
Contrast this with Roche’s foray last year into track workouts, where he claimed that “there are marginal gains in tinkering with recovery intervals,” again ignoring the fact that runners—at least the kind who don’t hire David Roche to coach them—are exquisitely interested in all performance gains.
While Roche admits that he sees jogging the interval between fast reps as preferable, he grounds this in the practice allowing “an emotional reset,” as if running a hard 400 meters is like being fragged, as well as the observation that prod favor this method of recovery, too.
This would all be fine if Roche weren’t continually claiming to be a man of science when all he’s nothing more than a keyword-hound trying to sound far more confident than he or anyone ever should about anything. But that’s Mr. Roche, over and over, with nominal Trail Runner editor-in-chief possibly or likely sleeping on the job after Outside, Inc. nixed the print version! Although now that I read my entire brain, the “before” and “after” articles are no different! So maybe resentment as a likely factor in increasing editorial laziness at the suite of wormy Outside, Inc. rags is a big fat maybe!