The BYU phenomen--alternate theories

Mean elevation in the state of Utah: 6100 feet. I think you've got some interesting ideas. Is Luke Puskedra LDS? I don't think so. I think Utah is just a great place to train, really.

Pretty sure Puskedra is not LDS. He went to a Catholic high school in Utah. Pretty sure Ben Saarel is also not LDS.

About Utah's elevation. Almost the entire population of Utah is at about 4000 feet, lower than Boulder, lower than Flag, lower than Albuquerque, lower than Mammoth, lower than Alamosa, lower than...

I don't think the altitude of Utah is the clue we're looking for.

Yeah that's not true at all. It's widely known that most of that area where runners train is above 6000 feet.

Also, sounds like someone is a little racist against Mormons.

Mormon is not a race.

The LDS guys have an age advantage and clean living would account for more consistency.

The altitude is likely optimal for faster running at altitude. It's all a good balance.

Mind you I think missionaries should be banned.

I wonder why wrote:

3. the LDS families tend, on average, to eat a lot better than the national norm? I don't know this is the case, but I suspect it might turn out to be true.

I live in Utah, so I'll comment on this one. I highly suspect this is not true. Feeding a family of 14 with healthy food is expensive. I don't have data to support this, but my experience tells me that the trend here is to focus on quantity over quality. This isn't the deep south, but there is not a focus on healthy food here. Obesity wise, Utah is doing well, but that doesn't mean the food is healthier. At least in the community I grew up in in MN, people ate much much better there.

I wonder why wrote:

Pretty sure Puskedra is not LDS. He went to a Catholic high school in Utah. Pretty sure Ben Saarel is also not LDS.

Correct.

I'd guess the altitude and climate are big factors. Utah is dry and temperatures are relatively moderate year round. Park City is the favored high altitude training destination for Salazar's group and they could go pretty much anywhere they want.

I wonder why wrote:

About Utah's elevation. Almost the entire population of Utah is at about 4000 feet, lower than Boulder, lower than Flag, lower than Albuquerque, lower than Mammoth, lower than Alamosa, lower than...

I don't think the altitude of Utah is the clue we're looking for.

You are comparing destinations for training to the average altitude of the Utah population. You can't discount the altitude aspect that easily.

Pretty much everyone is held to the same age standards. There should be no prejudice against missionaries, just as there should be no prejudice against someone who spends a couple years in the military before they start college. People start college at different ages, so it is appropriate for the age of the athletes in college sports to reflect the general demographic.

genuine random a hole wrote:

You are comparing destinations for training to the average altitude of the Utah population. You can't discount the altitude aspect that easily.

I'm not all that familiar with BYU's training--maybe they do a weekly run at significantly higher altitude than Provo. I'm really not sure. But, lots of teams do something like that. It's not clear to me that BYU has some special advantage there that would help to account for their continued success. And, pretty clearly, going up to Park City or someplace similar isn't going to be a weekly option for Utah high school teams.

I'm not trying to discount the altitude aspect, but if it helps account for BYU's success there are a lot of less successful teams with altitude access that we'd also have to account for in a different way.

Running behind Sarah Yingling must have been fun.

Gordon2gonadz wrote:

This is a pretty good list but I think you forgot the most important factor in BYUs success. Two words: magic underwear.

They don't train or race in the "magic underwear".

BYU guys returning from missions do receive an advantage in terms of their age. 24/25 year old guys are simply stronger than 18/19 year old guys.

I would caution against putting too much stock in the advantage, however. It is not easy to come back after two years away. Kudos to the guys who re-adjust.

I think the bigger factor is the campus environment, which is clearly not my cup of tea but which works for them. These guys don't drink themselves into oblivion, and they lead disciplined lives which are conducive to running. Again, not my cup of tea, but it in part explains why they do well.

I would also caution against putting too much stock into the morality play as well. Back in the day when I competed, Arkansas ruled the roost. Arkansas and BYU are vastly different in terms of culture. But I knew why Arkansas was so darn good - they worked harder and smarter than we did. This is what matters.

Ed Eyestone is just a really good coach. He was an olympian and I think he may have trained himself to the olympics. He knows what he's doing. There's not much advantage to running 6 days and taking one day real light than running 7 days. Who's to say all the BYU runners really take that 7th day off though; they could be crosstraining or going on long hikes or driving to the middle of nowhere and going for a run away from Provo. You could just about make up for that day off with a late night run on Saturday and an early morning run on Monday. I imagine the BYU guys are running 11-12 times a week though. A how they train segment on BYU would be really interesting. I suspect they are serious, no nonsense runners who take their easy days easy enough and put in periodized workouts aimed at running fast when it counts like other teams.

I think you touched on pretty much every "advantage" the returned Mormon missionary runners have. I wouldn't discount any of them, 1-6. I grew up in Utah myself and went on a church mission. But there are two extreme disadvantages that make great Mormon runners like Ed Eyestone, Henry Marsh, Doug Padilla and others who served LDS (Mormon) Church missions special.

First, on a two-year LDS mission, it is extremely hard, if not impossible to maintain good running condition. Missionaries are forbidden to go anywhere without their missionary companion, another young man (or woman, for female missionaries) with whom they are assigned. They must be together 24/7. This requirement has safety, accountability, and even "spiritual" reasons that I won't get into here. When I went on an LDS mission, I was in great running shape, and I gave up an athletic scholarship to go. I hoped I would somehow be able to maintain my fitness AND fullfill my church obligation, but it really was impossible. Missionaries get up at 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. and prepare for the day. That includes scripture study, lesson review, and planning. To go running in the morning would require that you get your missionary companion to go with you even earlier, something that worked just once for me. Then, after scripture study, you spend ALL DAY walking from door to door proselytizing and teaching lessons to anyone who will listen. You may get to your "tracting" location by bicycle, but mostly it's just a whole lot of walking. So you're on your feet a good part of the day, but it isn't running or even walking fast. Meanwhile, church members invite missionaries for dinner quite often, and they are happy to stuff you with food, leading to most missionaries putting on some weight for their two year mission. Church members know that missionaries are dirt poor, many of them paying for their own missions are having their parents pay for them. So without those "dinner appointments" with Church members, most missionaries eat lousy, unhealthy food. Thank heavens for church members, though, because they're happy to fatten you up. Bad combination for runners: little or no running, and putting on weight. You get half a day off each week, but that's for doing laundry, shopping for food, etc. Then it's right back to missionary work.

Second, there is a strange thing that happens on a two-year church mission: those missionaries--well, almost all of them--find new priorities in life. Their priorities, which are drilled into them constantly, are that you should serve an honorable mission and then marry a good Mormon girl and immediately start a family. If you come back from your mission and are even remotely attractive--and sometimes even if you aren't--you have a big flock of young Mormon women whose biggest priority is finding a returned missionary to marry and make the father of their children. But when you meet one of these exemplary young women, you can't do what hormone-filled young men and young women naturally want to do because that's forbidden until after marriage. Talk about added stress, along with the social stress, to get married young! It worked on me that way, and one year after we were married, along came our first child. The point is that SO many potentially great Mormon runners who serve church missions NEVER get back to where they were in running before their missions. Your priorites change. Two years away from running, while you concentrate your whole life on teaching people about your church will do that to you.

The amazing thing is that there have been some truly great former Mormon missionaries, including those I named above, who have somehow come back and actually lived up to their potential. It's not just physical maturity (age 22-26 rather than the typical age 17-22) healthy lifestyle, altitude and good coaching. Ed Eyestone would probably tell you the same thing. It's whether a young man really wants it once they return from a mission, and whether they get enough support--from spouses, especially, when they get married so quickly--to pursue those previous high school dreams. Remember that most of these returned missionaries come back without an athletic scholarship and have to make team, too.

I was never as talented as Eyestone, who was a grade ahead of me, but still I deeply regret not pursuing my own running dreams. It's all water long gone under the bridge, but I'm not alone. There are many, many talented Utah Mormon high school runners who will never reach their potential. But when you really think about it, should running ever come before a wife and kids? And is being able to get from point A to point B faster than other people really so important in the grand scheme of things? To meet more important priorities while STILL reaching your running potential . . . now THAT'S an admirable feat in my book.

Shawn, Great post. I'd like to add another factor, positive attitude and great work ethic. Many of these kids grow up doing service projects and are constantly told if they live the Church standards they can achieve in life. Throw in no drinking and a supportive family and that's a pretty good mix. Obviously not all Mormon families are like this but many are and it leads to success.

anonymous poster wrote:

Mean elevation in the state of Utah: 6100 feet. I think you've got some interesting ideas. Is Luke Puskedra LDS? I don't think so. I think Utah is just a great place to train, really.

The average elevation all along the Wasatch Front, from Logan down to Provo, Utah, is between 4500-4700 feet. So, less than the mile high of Denver and Boulder, Colorado, but definitely a nice altitude advantage. But whoever says the weather there is "mild" is wrong. Utah is a desert for the most part. It gets very hot (albeit a dry heat) in the summer, and very cold in the winter. Some winters it snows a lot, and the winter just seems to go on and on. Dealing with temperature extremes and elevation does make you tougher, though. And wherever you go along the major population corridor, you're within just a few miles of the mountains, where it's only a short drive to reach higher elevations. One of my most memorable runs was from Mantua, Utah to up near Willard Peak. Of course, I have so many great memories of growing up running in Utah, as I'm sure my high school idol Ed Eyestone does, as well. Conner Mantz, Utah's current best high school runner, and Ben Saarel, a recent Utah great surely have Utah running stories as well. If you live in a big city and have never had a run in the mountains of Utah, I can tell you what it is like. Maybe it's stretching the topic of this thread a bit, but I'd like to share something I wrote about one memorable Utah run back in the late 1970s, and I hope you enjoy it:

Hard-Boiled Owls

Rich and I wind our way up Box Elder Canyon in his cherry-red Dodge Coronet. The windows are down, and the warm, early summer air rushes through the car, blowing our hair around and buffeting our ears. But the wind can't drown out Van Halen on Rich's 8-track stereo. Not a bird, squirrel, deer, or anything else in this canyon could escape the sounds of David Lee Roth squealing and moaning his way through "Beautiful Girls,” Eddie Van Halen wailing away on a guitar solo, Alex Van Halen pummeling the drums, and Michael Anthony strumming out the low, bone-shaking bass chords of “Runnin’ With The Devil.”

Rich's Black Lab, Penny, stands in the back seat, her chin resting on my shoulder, her muzzle sticking out the window. Her eyes squint against the wind while her nose flares and snorts at every new smell.

At the church in the small lakeside community of Mantua (pronounced “manna-way” by the locals), Rich parks the car. We get out to stretch our legs and gaze up at the mountains. I figure it'll be about 18 miles round-trip from here to our destination at the top of the range and back—9 miles mostly up, and 9 miles mostly down, on a rough, bumpy, winding dirt road.

Before starting out, Rich and I take a few swigs of water from his Thermos, and Penny laps water from a Styrofoam cup. After stretching for a few minutes, we walk to where the paved church parking lot meets the dirt road, I start my watch, and we're off.

Across the mile-long flat leading to the mountains, Rich and I keep the pace down, just loosening up and saving our legs for the hills. Penny trots ahead, her lean dog legs pumping, seemingly without effort.

"God, you know this is crazy," Rich says, laughing. "Are we really gonna do it?"

"Yeah, let's go for it," I reply. "Just a few thousand feet rise, and we're gonna fly back on the downhill."

"OK, bud, but it seems kinda crazy. Have you ever run this far before?"

“No, I haven't. But I know we can do it, Rich.”

We wind our way up to “Dock Flat” on some rolling warm-up hills, and then we begin the long, winding uphill climb. We never run hard enough to really incur oxygen debt, but we don’t stop moving, either. The scenery gradually changes from blue sagebrush to white aspen to green pine. The air gradually turns thinner and cooler. The smell of pine is especially invigorating. One thing about running in the mountains: the air is so fresh and clean, and the scenery so fine, you can run for a long time without really feeling it.

When we reach the mountain top, we've been running for about two hours. Our thighs and calves feel burned-out—not just from the hills, but from running in the thin air. We decide to stop a few minutes, take a breather, and enjoy the scenery. Penny, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, heads for a patch of snow. From here we can see the blue water of Willard Bay, the low west mountains, and many miles of open desert beyond.

Although we passed only a couple of descending four-wheel-drives on the way up, we are now joined by an old couple in a big, jacked-up Ford truck with over-sized tires. They stop for a few minutes to share the view with us.

"You guys run all the way from Mantua?" the old man asks, looking us over with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

"Yeah," we both reply.

"Goddamn, you guys gotta be tougher than two hard-boiled owls!" he exclaims.

Rich and I laugh—we like the description.

The trip back down the mountain is a long, wild plunge over ruts, through potholes and around winding turns. Although the old couple in the truck left ten minutes earlier, we easily catch and pass them on the way down. We're now running downhill so fast that even Penny has a hard time keeping up, but I'm sure her feet are sore. Rich and I will feel the effects of both the uphill climb and the downhill pounding for days, but for now we just cut loose and enjoy the flight.

We reach the car in forty-five minutes.

"Hey, I told you we could do it, Rich," I say as we get into the car and he pops another 8-track tape in the stereo.

"Yeah, you did," he says with a chuckle. “But what else would you expect from two 'hard-boiled owls'?"

Citizen Runner wrote:

Utah is dry and temperatures are relatively moderate year round. Park City is the favored high altitude training destination for Salazar's group and they could go pretty much anywhere they want.

Dude...Have you ever been in Utah in either the summer or winter?

90 degrees in Utah is comfortable. 90 degrees in North Carolina is brutal.