Lap 202: Sponsored by Olipop
Get 25% off your orders at DrinkOlipop.com using code CITIUS25
Compiled by David Melly and Paul Snyder
Beatrice Chebet Shattered The 5K WR—How Much Should We Care? 🤯
Last week at the Cursa dels Nassos 5k in Barcelona, Beatrice Chebet finished the year on a high note by covering 5 kilometers on the roads in a blistering time of 13:54. That’s the new women’s 5K world record and was clearly one hell of a run. It’s also a saucy reminder that Chebet’s failure to even be named a finalist for Athlete of the Year was a ridiculous snub. But is it earth shattering? Paradigm shifting? A “remember where you were when you heard about it” performance?
When we wrote the above headline, it was in the interest of clickbait. But after a few seconds of half-assed consideration… maybe it’s a fair question? Hold on. Let’s talk this through.
On first pass, it seems like the performance of the year! Chebet lopped off nearly 20 seconds from the old mark of 14:13, which she set at this race last year and which had only been matched (to the second) by Kenyan compatriot Agnes Ngetich a few weeks later. That’s a lot of time to be erased from a WR, especially over a shorter, non-marathon distance. So it stands to reason that Chebet’s 5K should be viewed with awe as a significant historic outlier, right? Not exactly.
For starters, it’s felt like we’ve been just one more pace-light-lit race away from seeing the first sub-14 women’s 5000m for a few years now, ever since Gudaf Tsegay ran 14:00.21 at Pre two summers ago. Tsegay might be the WR holder and 2022 World champ, but Chebet, Faith Kipyegon, and Sifan Hassan have all beaten her in a range of races. And remember: Ngetich split 14:13 en route to her astounding 28:48 10K world record run (The 10K world record has a higher WA score than the 5k world record by eight points, for what that’s worth). And although road 5Ks have been around much longer than World Athletics, the organizing body only started ratifying official world records at the distance off the track in 2017.
Conventional wisdom states that the track should be faster than the roads. You’re wearing space-age spikes on a perfectly flat surface and cruising around a well-marked oval that is designed to optimize an athlete’s ability to ration effort over the course of the race. That’s the established recipe for fast running. And yet…28:48 is six seconds faster than Chebet’s 10,000m world record, 28:54.14.
Ngetich broke 29 minutes on the roads about five months before Chebet did so on Mondo, so if anything, perhaps the way to view short-distance road world records is as a harbinger of track times to come. Maybe the relatively free-wheeling flow of road running (plus 39+ millimeters of bouncy foam and carbon underfoot) helps to make barriers seem more breakable, and a monster time registered on asphalt helps rewire the collective notion of what’s possible on the track.
If that’s how you choose to evaluate Chebet’s 5K WR, that’s just fine! Feel free to take it a step further and imagine a grandfather clock tick-tick-ticking in your head—Tsegay’s 5000m world record is on notice and should be lowered to something like 13:57 by May of this year. Whoever accomplishes this inevitable feat will receive greater fanfare than Chebet has received for her 5K performance. It’ll also likely slot neatly into a larger 2025 narrative. If it’s Chebet, she’ll continue her march toward GOAT conversation and solidify her status as distance-double favorite in Tokyo. If it’s not Chebet, and she’s not in the race, it ratchets up the anticipation of a head-to-head clash. And if Chebet gets beat, it creates a thrilling uncertainty heading into championship season.
Then there’s the nuclear option, which is that we should do away with the very notion of recording “world records” for road races under the half marathon distance. These 5K and 10K races—even with World Athletics course requirements—are too weird and idiosyncratic to really mean much. And they’ll always be compared to their much more frequently contested counterparts on the track. Shorter road races are fun and exciting, but rarely because of the time on the clock—just ask the Fifth Avenue Mile.
But even embracing this more curmudgeonly stance doesn’t erase the sub-14-sized elephant in the room. Even the “times don’t matter” crew have to admit that there’s something different about Chebet running 13:54 than, say, a still-large world record of 14:04. So perhaps you’ll look to contextualize it, rather than hold it up like some just-uncovered artifact with which track nerds can divine the future.
How about this? Chebet won in Barcelona by about 30 seconds over second-placer Medina Eisa of Ethiopia, who boasts a track 5000m PB of 14:16.54 and placed second (again to Chebet) at last year’s Diamond League 5000m final. Does that mean Chebet is set to run 13:46 at Pre this year? We doubt it, but let’s go ahead and set that as the upper-most bound of what she can conceivably do this outdoor season.
And keep in mind: Chebet, who’s running into her prime at 24 years old, has a lifetime 1-2 record against Faith Kipyegon head-to-head. The most recent win was, to be fair, the Olympic 5000m final, but Kipyegon did beat her in Budapest and at the Kenyan Trials earlier last year. Since 2023, Kipyegon has run five 5000m finals and only lost one, in a year that began with an injury and included a mid-race shoving match. As recently as 18 months ago, Kipyegon became the world record holder at the distance in her third-ever 5000m. So maybe what Chebet’s mark means is that two women are conceivably in well-under-14-minute shape.
Clickbait-y headlines are infinitely more annoying when the question is left unanswered. So to reiterate: how much should we care about this world record? Let’s go with “some.” And the biggest takeaway from Chebet’s New Year’s Eve antics is that the women’s 5000m will be a can’t-miss event in the year to come.
Why The Sport Needs Guys Like Johnny G 🫡
After 18 years of lacin’ ‘em up, John “Johnny” Gregork has announced his retirement from competitive running. Gregorek steps away from the athletic rat race with a diverse mix of accolades including a 3:49.98 indoor mile PB; the fastest ever mile in blue jeans; having represented Team USA at two World Championships; a top-10 finish in the final in 2017; and an undefeated record when racing road miles in Cleveland, Ohio.
You don’t make two World teams and run under 3:50 for the mile without being a phenomenally talented middle distance runner. And yet whenever major American championships rolled around and the conversation invariably turned to the matter of who will make the World/Olympic team, only real diehards or Gregorek family members tended to include Johnny in their top three. He’d wind up getting a bullet-point mention in the “other names to watch” preview. He was the perennial long shot.
That’s hardly a knock on Gregorek. Nor is this a faux-outrage argument that the track and field community has underappreciated one of the sport’s more beloved milers. It’s actually what made Johnny such an exciting athlete to keep tabs on. He was never a lock to make the team, but you could never count him out, either. In an event where the gulf between the favorites and the also-rans can be huge, Johnny was a legitimate dark horse threat for much of the last decade.
Whenever Gregorek was in contact with the leaders down the home stretch, your eyes instinctively darted back to him a few times, just to see if this was one of those days when he would perfectly time his lethal kick. A podium finish was never a given, but it was always a possibility. And rooting for the guy in that position is a lot more appealing to the countless former milers in any given Hayward Field meet than, say, the inevitability of a Matthew Centrowitz in his prime. The mid-packers often become the fan favorites for a reason.
In an event as electric as the men’s 1500m, during an era where American men have twice struck Olympic gold, that might come across as a bold claim. And it is! Just look at jersey sales for any professional sport: you’re going to see the top-scorers, the dynasty-builders, the inarguable GOATs at the top of the heap. It’s less common to walk down the street and see a middle aged dude repping the jersey of a rock solid but blocking-focused tight end, or a Sixth-Man of the Year candidate, or a sturdy relief pitcher.
But it’s those athletes who make the sporting world go round. After all, heavy favorites need to lose sometimes to keep things interesting, and what’s a more compelling story than the steady performer who has a heroic day when it matters most? You need a viable “middle class” in sports. The athletes who, on the right day, are capable of ascending into the uppermost echelon, but whose entry is never a given.
From 2016 to 2024, Johnny G. made six of eight U.S. finals. He was always right there, mixing it up. Few athletes are fortunate to enjoy a career that’s marked by such longevity, consistency, and high-end performance. So as we bid farewell to one of the sport’s certified Good Guys, let’s hope that many more middle-distance aspirants are following in his footsteps.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Track 🗣️
“I could do it better than that guy!”
Armchair quarterbacks around the world repeat this refrain on a weekly basis as their favorite team drops an easy pass or overthrows to first base. But here’s the thing: while it’s a claim you can loudly announce to your buddy as you finish your third Coors Light of the evening, you’ll never be held accountable for this assertion. They don’t just let you try out for the Chiefs, and NBA players rarely play pickup at the local YMCA.
In running, on the other hand, access is not the problem. Literally hundreds of thousands of people—maybe even you!—have technically raced Eliud Kipchoge head-to-head in a marathon. You can sign up for an all-comers meet, settle into the blocks, and if you can run a 9.90 for 100 meters, congrats: you’ve qualified for USAs, baby.
That’s not to say that the sport has no gatekeeping: professional agents help determine meet entries for the big races. The races with perfect weather, competition, and pacing require significant travel. The latest prototypes are only available to sponsored runners. But compared to most other sports, track and field is a meritocracy.
However, the accessibility of track and field can be a blessing and a curse. The reason why “head down to your local track and try to run a lap at this pace” is a marathon-broadcast cliche is because it is a good way for casual fans to wrap their minds around the athletic accomplishment playing out on screen.
It’s our best asset for bringing in new fans: you can turn on the television (in the rare event track and field is on TV) and explain the general goal of what’s happening in one sentence without having to define pass interference, off-sides, or strike zones.
But simplicity isn’t always a good thing. An easy-to-understand event can catch your interest, but being able to hold that interest for longer than the length of a Tik Tok—say, 25 laps of racing—requires understanding the nuances of race strategy, backstory, stakes… all the things our newsletter readers love. But good luck getting your MMA-obsessed friend to sit still and internalize the pieces critical to really understanding the sport.
Accessibility presents another crucial drawback. Aside from the oval itself, there are few closed loops in track and field. This was where the docuseries SPRINT really struggled: how do you make the London Diamond League feel important when it has no bearing on winning Olympic medals?
The cadence, rules, and schedule of professional leagues offer comfort in clarity. You generally know what athletes will be competing when you tune in to watch a game between two teams. The outcome of each game has at least some bearing on a team’s ability to advance to a championship season. There is no such thing as a season-long bye into an event where the winner is the year’s Big Champion.
But you know all this already. You’re all in on Grand Slam Track; you cheer for your team at every event of the NCAA Championships; you know exactly who on the starting line has won which World Marathon Majors. Why does it matter to your inbox and news feed?
Because one crucial element of tightening track and field up to match the more compact, narrative-ready seasons that drive most other sports requires wading into murky waters: drawing a line between running the activity, and track and field: the elite sport.
The Boston Marathon qualifying standards getting faster are interesting fodder for discussion and debate, but Hellen Obiri doesn’t have to worry about getting a BQ. Your average BU meet includes at most six sections that matter to coverage of the sport on the professional level despite taking place over the course of six hours.
Where this can get more uncomfortable is when we talk about the business of running. Does every athlete who wants in have the right to enter a meet? Should collegiate track and field athletes ever race professional competition? What considerations should go into awarding shoe contracts? And probably the livest wire: are there too many professional track and field athletes out there?
There are many valid reasons why professional track and field should be a much smaller sport. If your singular goal is to package an exciting season around high-level performance, you want to incentivize Noah Lyles to race Kishane Thompson as many times a year as possible, with something on the line each time. And—hold your boos!—if your singular goal as an organizer of the Olympic Marathon Trials is to showcase the best marathoners in the country competing for three spots, you should invite maybe 25 people per gender, allowing fans to follow the entire field.
Any debate over how elite versus equitable to make track and field also needs to factor in which parties have the largest influence over where the money goes: shoe companies and, to a lesser extent, agents and meet directors.
And it’s crucial to remember that shoe companies are businesses. They are looking for some sort of vaguely attributable marketing ROI on the athletes they endorse. A number of factors contribute to contract decisions, including, but hardly limited to, performance. A runner being fast isn’t a guarantee that they’re attractive to a brand (After all, there is no shortage of Bachelor contestants schilling for Hoka while top marathoners turn in their singlets). And even world-class athletes can go unsponsored for long periods if their self-worth is set at a dollar value that a sponsor has yet to match.
The introduction of Grand Slam Track, meets like Athlos with robust prize purses, and the Diamond League’s improvement of its own prize structure are all great for ensuring that the sport’s highest performers are well compensated for performing highly— but even that money isn’t infinite, and those organizers have decidedly focused on raising the ceiling for the lucky few at the top rather than setting a higher floor for track and field journeymen.
But the sole takeaway shouldn’t be to disregard any and all non-performance-focused externalities. It’s that we have to be precise when we talk about what’s “good for the sport.” Sports are entertainment, and as such, there’s room for bombastic personalities and idiosyncratic performers, even if they aren’t necessarily global medal threats. And there are worthy reasons to invest in athletes, teams, and races that also make the sport more inclusive, equitable, and community-forward.
Track and field is bigger than a collection of races from point A to point B, and we lose something special and arguably unique about our sport if we take a reductionist approach. But scarcity is our unfortunate reality, and critically assessing how the time, money, and attention is distributed in our sport should be thoughtful and goal-oriented. If we’re pushing for change, which positive impacts exactly do we want to see, and on what scale?
Greater professionalization of track and field has a benefit and a cost. And given the enormous inertia of the status quo and the limited reach of the average fan and even a semi-popular newsletter, picking and choosing battles carefully is necessary. So as we head into a new year, a new Olympic cycle, and a period of tremendous potential for change, keep asking yourself—and those you’re trying to hold accountable—what we’re talking about when we talk about track and field and why it matters.
Quincy Wilson Picks Up Where He Left Off 💨
At just 16 years old, Quincy Wilson made history as the youngest male track and field Olympic gold medalist in history as part of Team USA’s men’s 4x400m relay.
His 2024 season also saw him defend his New Balance Nationals indoor and outdoor 400m titles, and break the U18 400m world record and the U.S. high school 400m record at the U.S. Olympic Trials. He finished sixth there and brought his personal best all the way down to 44.20.
After a post-Olympic whirlwind tour that included throwing out the first pitch at Nationals and Orioles games, Wilson is back to racing and beginning to deliberate on his college decision. CITIUS MAG spoke with him on a snow day from school on Tuesday morning. The following excerpt has been lightly edited for clarity and length.
You've already showcased your potential on the world stage, you’ve got this New Balance NIL deal, and you’re taking college visits. Why go back to competing for your high school?
For me, academics always come first. Also, it’s the last season for a lot of the seniors that I came into Bullis with. It's our last time to make memories and run 4x400s together. Last year, we fell short of some of the things that we had our goals set on. This year, we're coming back more prepared and really have our eye on something that we want to accomplish.
I read the NBC news story on you recently. You've got your shortlist, but what are you looking for in a college match?
I’m in my junior year right now, but I'm looking for a coach who can coach me, a great academic program, a great athletics program and a team I can bond with—just like my high school team. I want to go in and be successful as a freshman and do the things that I’m looking forward to doing.
Is there a part of you that still might get nervous at New Balance Nationals? You've been to the Olympic Trials. You've been to the Olympics and you've set these records.
I feel like you're always going to get nervous. When you're a competitor, your biggest fear is always losing. I don't like to lose! But I think I'll be ready for New Balance Nationals—there will be a lot of great competition.
The whole weekend is just fun: seeing all my friends compete, seeing everybody compete, and having my family there and able to come because it's not too far away from home. My freshman year, my sister was able to come and she got to see me win Nationals my first year. It's been a great experience.
You've already raced this indoor season. You opened up with a 1:17.19—immediately a PR to get the indoor season started over 600m. How do you assess that race and how did it feel to get back to racing for the first time since the Olympics?
I wasn't really supposed to go out there and run a 600m. But I told my coach that I was ready. He was hesitant, but then that day he let me do it. I feel like that was the smoothest 48 [400m split] I've ever ran in my life, so I think I'm on a really great path and he's planning out my training really good for me.
You and I have talked about your potential in the 800m. You gave it a shot last year and came away with a 1:50 PR during the outdoor season. What do you think about your potential now that you've had the summer that you had?
For me right now, it's just a part of my training. As a 400 runner, it’s helping me in my endurance training and just training for the long season that I hope I can have.
When people were quote tweeting the clip of the 600m that you just ran, people were picking up on the fact that your form is looking better.
I've been in the weight room a lot more this year and I feel like that's helping my upper body: bringing my arms up and helping me pump better. It's muscle memory. I've been working on it in practice. That’s all thanks to my coach and everybody who’s been helping me in the weight room and on the track.
Read the full interview here!
Rapid Fire Highlights 🔥
– Don’t put off getting your Millrose tickets! The women’s Wanamaker Mile is shaping up to be a great one. Olympic medalists Jess Hull and Georgia Bell highlight a field that also includes the likes of Susan Ejore, Nikki Hiltz, Emily Mackay, Elise Cranny, Heather MacLean, and Sinclaire Johnson.
– At the Cross Internacional Juan Muguerza in Elgoibar, Spain, Lap Count star Beatrice Chebet and Olympic 10,000m silver medallist Berihu Aregawi each prevailed over rock solid fields (six days after Chebet’s NYE antics). Full results for the 9.707km and 7.621km races can be found here.
– The Hakone Ekiden was record breakingly fast this year, with juggernaut Aoyama Gakuin University taking the win setting the overall course record of 10:41:19 for ten relay legs totalling 217.1km and four individual stage records falling along the way. The Hakone Ekiden is like the NCAA championship on steroids in Japan, with comparable viewership to the Super Bowl, and AGU’s course record basically means they have ten collegiate athletes who can average roughly 62 minutes for the half marathon. But despite its incredibly rich history and almost otherworldly performances, even this proud race isn’t immune from the apparently global issue of badly behaving running influencers.
– Good news for any future college athletes jealous of the Covid Generation’s comically-long eligibility windows! The NCAA is reportedly mulling over giving all athletes five years of eligibility—TBD on how that would impact the entire concept of redshirting or not.
– In other collegiate news, the portal giveth and the portal taketh away: Former Tennessee and Auburn sprinter (and 2024 Olympian for Nigeria) Favour Ashe and his 9.94 100m PB are headed to Eugene as he becomes an Oregon Duck.
– Following a fantastic comeback season over the steeple barriers, Allie Ostrander has signed a contract with Oiselle, and stated her intentions to continue racing on both the track and trails.
– Two-time Olympic medalist Fred Kerley was arrested and charged with battery on an officer and resisting arrest after an altercation with police in Miami Beach over the weekend. Kerley now also faces counts of domestic battery by strangulation and strong arm robbery after his estranged wife, Angelica Taylor, refused to testify on his behalf at his bond hearing and instead informed the judge she wished to press charges of her own.
– RIP to American 400m hurdling legend Ralph Mann. The BYU graduate and eventual recipient of a PhD from Washington State was the silver medalist at the 1972 Olympic Games who researched and literally wrote the book on sprinting and hurdling technique.
Interested in reaching 16,000+ dedicated runners and track and field fans? Advertise with us here.