Racing is urgency distilled—whether along the sharp edge of competition itself or in the relentless refinement of that edge leading to the moment when the starter raises an arm and a hush falls over the field.

Nowhere is that hush more palpable than at an indoor track meet like the Millrose Games, where all the energy of anticipation, of history, of hope is concentrated within four walls and a low hanging, banner-draped ceiling.

Every training session, every meal, every rest, every sacrifice is measured against that unyielding countdown. Yet, not all races are created equal; one racer’s singular focus may be another’s stepping stone. After all, both the national championships and the world championships loom ahead.

That duality is part of what makes racing so compelling—every competitor is running, not just against others, but against their personal objectives, their training cycles, their peak form, and certainly, against their limitations. 

And in that contrast lies the hidden drama of the sport: the mix of immediacy and long-term strategy, the delicate balance between going all-in and holding something back for what truly matters.

World Record!

Why would Cole Hocker, the natural miler and Olympic champion, go ahead of distance man Grant Fisher in the 3000m three laps out when he could well have waited for the final lap, where his natural speed would’ve taken him to the victory more likely than not? Was it the moment? Or was it practice for something ahead? Fisher took the win with a slingshot pass on the final turn and with it, the world record at 7:22.91.

The urgency of competition isn’t just about the final sprint—it’s embedded in every choice leading up to it.

Every race-day element must be rehearsed in advance. When the urgency arrives, you need protocols to rely on—ones that keep you poised and ready to meet both the race’s demands and those of your opponents. What’s the adage, ‘nothing new on race day’?

This is one reason the military begins its process of turning citizens into soldiers by stripping soldiers of their individual distinctions—hair, clothing, jewelry, piercings. This helps to build unity and discipline, qualities essential in the heat of battle.

Practice For The Heat of Battle

Military training also includes war games—simulations of potential conflicts. In foot racing, training includes practicing race tactics and the mechanics of getting fit. The more detail-oriented and specific the preparation, the better. That way, once you get to the race, you will already feel you’ve been there before. 

In American football and basketball, this kind of practice is called scrimmaging, a necessary link between practicing and competition. One has to learn to race, not just to run, because in the beginning we don’t know what we don’t know. 

In the same sense that teachers always seemed to ask test questions on exactly the material you hadn’t studied, it is likely that a race will unfold against any one individual athlete’s interest. It is uncanny how that works. That’s why in racing you have to prepare for all contingencies, because no one knows how the race will play out.  

That is one reason paced racing is easier psychologically than full distance competition. Paced racing is like an open-book test—challenging, but with fewer surprises.

Another of the positive attributes of team running is the ability to scrimmage against one another, to simulate racing, to hone your edge on the abilities of your teammates. Also, this edge construction also builds a team bond. 

Together We Can!

We reached an initial peak in American running excellence during the first running boom of the 1970s when club running was seeded throughout the nation. Shoe company contracts then led to the breakup of the clubs. 

The reestablishment of team training, beginning with Team USA Mammoth Lakes at the turn of the century, spurred the current rebirth of American distance running. Since then, more and more independent teams have sprung up, and with them the fortunes of American running. 

We cannot attribute the world records at this weekend’s Millrose Games solely to the new shoes and track surface at the N.Y. Armory. Armory, though, both contributed. It’s the new belief American runners have in themselves, their teammates, and their coaches. 

The resurgence of American distance running isn’t just about technology—it’s about belief. When athletes believe, they discover resources even they didn’t know they held. Synergy sows speed.

END