Running Through "The Change" & Changing Perceptions
Ultrarunner Sophie Speidel's insights and author Christine Yu's "Up to Speed"
Welcome back! My aim is to publish a free newsletter every Wednesday morning, and I’ll endeavor to get back to that schedule next week. This newsletter comes a day late because I wanted to finish reading the excellent book reviewed in this issue, and I was working on this story for Trail Runner. On Tuesday, I also published a bonus post for paid subscribers. You, too, can receive occasional bonus posts and an invitation to a monthly online meetup by elevating your subscription to the supporter level. Or, if you refer people to this newsletter and they subscribe, you’ll receive a comp’ed paid subscription. OK, let’s get to this week’s Q&A with one of my favorite ultrarunners, and a book review!
Last week, my friend Sophie Speidel flew out from her home in Virginia to spend the weekend with me in Silverton, where we both ran back-to-back mountain races. I first connected with her a decade ago online while reporting an article, and then we met up in the Bay Area and Telluride. I’m sharing a conversation with Sophie because she’s such a positive role model for me and others in the sport.
Can you guess her age based on her background? She’s a mom of three, a full-time school counselor, a lacrosse coach, and she has over 110 races to her name on Ultrasignup, including five 100-milers. She earned several age-group records at races in her last decade and is focused on breaking more records in her new age bracket.
Did she just turn 40? 50? Actually, 60. In spite of gradually slowing down, Sophie is going strong and taking herself seriously as an athlete in this phase in life.
I crave older female ultrarunning role models like her (as well as Suzanna Bon, 58, and Angie Woolman, 69) because they push back against the traditional narrative and cultural norm that imply that women lose so much of their vitality, mobility, muscle mass, oxygen-carrying-capacity, and drive post-menopause that they might as well retire from sport and give up on athletic goals.
No way, I intend to train and race like Sophie, Suzanna, and Angie for the next 15+ years (I’m 54 now).
Sophie and I drove from Telluride to Silverton early Saturday morning, and I raced the 26-mile Silverton Alpine Marathon while she—still acclimating to the altitude—did the event’s 8-mile race. We enjoyed reconnecting with many runner-friends there for this weekend’s Hardrock Hundred Endurance Run. Then, Sunday morning, we raced the 12-mile Kendall Mountain Run. It may be only 12 miles but is extremely challenging in terms of terrain and vert. Midway, we faced a steep summit scramble on loose rock that topped out at 13,100-feet, and we had to glissade on snow and hopscotch over chunky talus on the way down. We both felt pumped and proud to tackle that mountain and run well.
Driving back from Silverton, I turned on my recorder for a Q&A. What follows is an excerpt of our talk.
Me: Tell me how turning 60 felt and what motivates you to go for new age-group records.
Sophie: Well, I’ve been looking at this moment since I turned 50. That whole decade of my fifties was a great era for me in terms of ultras and getting personal bests. I love races that publish age group records by decade, so you can test yourself, and that’s what I did in my fifties—I went after the 50–59s and looked ahead to my sixties and thought, “I hope I’m still able to train and race at this level, so I’ll go for those records.” It keeps you motivated and keeps it fun.
As an ultrarunner since age 39, what would you tell your 50-year-old self based on what you know now at 60?
Sophie: I didn’t turn 50 and think, “Oh my god, I don’t want to be 50.” The funny thing is, I turned 50 the day after running Hellgate 100K. I PR’ed that day, so I would tell people turning 50, if you’re doing ultras, you can PR at age 50. And also, I feel it was the most fun decade for me racing, ever.
As an East Coaster, when you visit here for these mountain runs, what’s most challenging? Can you compare/contrast the East Coast and San Juan Mountain running?
Sophie: Definitely for me, coming here, it’s the altitude and being able to breathe. The trails [back East] are gnarly in a similar way, with lots of roots, rocks, and sharp climbs, but it’s not being able to breathe here that’s the big challenge.
If I were to make a pilgrimage to the “Beast Coast” to race, what favorite trail-ultra races would you recommend near where you live?
Sophie: I always talk about the Hellgate 100K, because it’s epic like a 100-miler but doesn’t wreck you like a 100. It’s epic in that it starts at midnight on the second Saturday of December, and takes you on a tour of classic Blue Ridge Mountain trails and also fire roads. It’s a Western States qualifier if you finish under 17 hours. I’ve done it 12 times, and I’m going for number 13 and the 60–69 record. It’s actually 66 miles, not 100K [62 miles].
I’ve also done the three classic Virginia 100s: the Massanutten 100, which was my first hundred, put on by the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club, and that’s a fantastic event put on by amazing people. The Old Dominion 100 I was afraid of for many years because of the heat and humidity—it’s always the first Saturday in June—but it was a great challenge, because it’s very runnable, and to get a sub-24 buckle is really cool. Massanutten 100 and Old Dominion share a lot of the same trails in Fort Valley, which is a beautiful Civil War-era valley on the northwest side of the state. And then there’s Grindstone 100—a lot of us are on the fence; we love Grindstone, but it’s by UTMB now, so that may or may not change it significantly. That’s another really good one.
For a shorter ultra, Highlands Sky 40, which I just did, uses the Dolly Sods Wilderness, which is an amazing part of West Virginia. It’s a great old-school ultra.
Speaking of Highlands Sky 40, congratulations on setting a new 60-69 age group record there a month ago. How did your time compare with your best Highlands Sky time in your fifties?
Sophie: Highlands Sky is a sentimental favorite because I actually won it, and I haven’t won many ultras. I won it in 2004 when I was 42, and I ran an 8:06. Then I went for the 50-59 record in 2019, late in my fifties when I was 57, and I beat that record by about 10 minutes with an 8:58. Then for the 60-69 record, I had to run under 10 hours because the record was 9:59, and I ran a 9:35.
How do you psychologically feel good about your times now? I get hung up on comparing my times now with my speedier times from 15 years or longer ago.
Sophie: I go back to, one, I’m so glad I can still train and race, period. Two, recognizing that 10 to 15 minutes a year is what I seem to be losing even if I’m doing all the right things with speedwork, strength training, not being injured, and consistency, and I’m still getting slower. For example, with the Promised Land 50K, I got the 50-59 record and ran a 6:41 in 2019. The last three years, I’ve been trying to run under the current 60 – 69 record, which is 7:06, and I can’t. I’m running around 7:11. Part of me is like, you just have to take what the day gives you, and if I never get that record, no big deal.
This is helpful for me to hear, because it normalizes the slow-down I’m going through. Do you see yourself retiring from ultras and running? How are you going to taper off from the sport?
Sophie: I see myself moving away from overnight stuff, just because I do have sleep issues, except if there were an adventure run to do with a group of friends, I could see myself doing an overnight for that. I’ve done five hundreds, and Old Dominion was the last one in 2018; I feel like it was the best experience of all five, and I was very happy to say, “OK, I’m done with hundreds.” The only race I do now at all that has any nighttime is Hellgate. Generally, I see myself doing more adventure runs rather than racing. Also, my husband loves gravel bike racing and is itching to buy me a gravel bike, so I see myself joining him on those adventures. I have a little bit of osteoarthritis in my knee, which is pretty typical of people our age, and I can’t necessarily think that five years from now I’ll be able to do the same things I’m doing now. I might be transitioning to something that gets me outside but doesn’t stress the knee.
What for you now at 60 is a good solid training week?
Sophie: Let’s look at training I’ll do for Hellgate later this year. That would start a 16-week build through the fall, and at my age, I don’t really need to top out beyond 55 miles per week. But I do feel like I need regular strength training two to three times a week, with heavy lifting, and speedwork. My speedwork is short hill repeats, building up to like five minutes on our local hill. For Hellgate, I don’t want to overtax myself and do a 50K six weeks out from the race. I’d rather do a DIY training camp [explained in this post] about six to eight weeks out.
What keeps you coming back to these San Juan Mountains? What do you love most about it?
Sophie: The first time I was here as a runner was 2017, and I was pacing Keith Knipling at Hardrock and hanging out with you, and just getting confidence—because, those of us from the East Coast, we’re just not used to the severity and steepness of these enormous mountains, along with the weather piece being a safety issue. I learned a lot in 2017 from hanging out with you and Keith, such as the beauty of rain pants and poles, and then in 2018, I tested myself—I went from Telluride to Ouray by myself, over the pass, and was like, wow, that was really fun, because it gave me confidence.
It’s doing stuff like what we did this weekend—low-key, connecting with friends, being outside—you don’t have to run 100 miles to do that. I love supporting at races, pacing and crewing.
Didn’t this weekend remind you of the beauty of sub-ultra distances?
Sophie: Absolutely. I want to encourage my friends who are ultrarunners to come out and do something like what we did today—it’s a very accessible way to do something that’s right on the edge of hard and sketchy.
Thanks, Sophie, let’s do it again next year!
See this link for info on Aravaipa’s Silverton Alpine 50K/Marathon/8M race and the next day’s Kendall Mountain 12, which will be held in Silverton July 8–9 next year. For a list of other recommended sub-ultra-distance races in the San Juan Mountains, see this post.
A side note about Sophie, which segues to the topic of the book review below: Sophie also was the first older runner friend I had who clued me in on what to expect with the menopause transition as an athlete. No one talks enough about it (although that is changing and part of why I’m bringing it up here). I read an excellent article Sophie wrote in 2017, “Running Your Best After Menopause.” Thanks to her, I was less alarmed and confused when I had, as she predicted, out-of-control flow with the Mother of all Periods as a last hurrah.
Book Review: Up to Speed
Guys, do not tune out here. I’m going to discuss a book about women, but it should not be pigeonholed as women’s reading. Men, especially male coaches and fathers of athletic girls, need to read this book!
I often approach a research-heavy nonfiction book with a sense I “should” read it because it’s “important” and “good for me,” but honestly I’d rather be reading Reese Witherspoon’s latest light fiction pick. Admittedly, I felt that way when opening Up to Speed: The Groundbreaking Science of Women Athletes by
(whose Substack newsletter I follow and recommend). But the part of me who’s a coach and who’s struggling with training through menopause compelled me to read it.I’m excited to report this is a timely, engaging read as well as super informative. News about the systemic bias against women’s sports, and women’s lack of representation in scientific research, have been coming to a head over the past several years and changing. Our mother’s generation’s outdated yet deeply rooted notions of women being weak and being “selfish” for potentially harming our reproductive system through sport is finally going the way of the girdle.
Yu’s book artfully pulls together and makes sense of volumes of research and trends related to women in sport and the science of studying them. She brings the research to life by using compelling case studies of women from myriad sports, and she also dives deep into history to show how female athletes have struggled to be taken seriously—and studied scientifically—because sports and exercise historically have been viewed as a masculine domain.
I loved this book for several reasons. One, it enhanced my understanding of women’s bodies and especially the role of hormones in development. Two, medical history is always fascinating, sometimes gruesome, and in this book’s early chapters we read about how early medicine screwed over women and created false, pseudoscientific narratives about women being frail and vulnerable. The persistent overblown fear of women displacing their uterus, and about their breasts getting in the way, kept women out of sports. Even today, we see remnants of the long-held belief that women can’t compete in the same way as men because we are more prone to fatigue; for example, in Grand Slam tennis tournaments, women play best-of-three sets while men play best-of-five.
We also learn about heroic pioneering female doctors who conducted research to challenge the notion that women are delicate due to menstruation and reproduction and therefore must be protected. Mary Putnam Jacobi in the 1870s conducted an in-depth study that concluded women are healthier when engaged in activities, and thus they should be active rather than confined to rest during menstruation—a study that earned her a prestigious award from Harvard, the first woman to receive it.
One of the most interesting and valuable chapters covers nutrition and the history of recognizing the “Female Athlete Triad” (the combo of amenorrhea, poor bone health, and disordered eating) and how in recent years that evolved into a deeper understanding of “relative energy deficiency in sport” (RED-S) and what to do about it.
Other chapters cover injuries (especially women’s concussions and ACL tears) and women’s representation in the sports industry. The history of women’s sports bras, in particular the two women who designed the revolutionary Jogbra in the late 1970s, is wonderfully told.
Three chapters I found the most enlightening and important—covering a woman’s three major developmental phases of adolescence, pregnancy/postpartum, and menopause—come at the book’s end. Had I been the developmental editor, I would have moved these chapters to the first half.
In the chapter “The Phenom Years,” we read about the pressure to specialize in sports at a young age, and the stress athletic girls go through because of “a perception that there’s something wrong with a growing and developing young woman’s body that makes it incompatible with and counterproductive to sports, and the body becomes a problem to be fixed. Girls fight their physiology by training countless hours and under-eating to stave off the inevitable changes that accompany puberty.” Yu makes a compelling case to prioritize health and longevity over short-term high school and collegiate performance.
In “Family Matters,” we see the complexity and difficulty of trying to plan pregnancy and postpartum around an athletic career. Yu also spotlights why pregnant women have generally been excluded from research trials, creating a dearth of scientifically grounded recommendations on exercise during and following pregnancy.
We also see belated and important recognition of postpartum complications, especially pelvic floor recovery. Female pro athletes had been afraid to reveal these complications, out of concern for their sponsorship and athletic career, but recently have become more willing to talk openly and get help. Top runner Kara Goucher reveals how she regrets making her return to running following her son’s birth in 2010 look so easy and badass—she resumed training three weeks after giving birth, getting back to 100-mile weeks, and PR’ed at the Boston Marathon seven months after childbirth—when in reality, she had pain and excessive bleeding during those months and felt unguided about how to manage postpartum recovery as a high-level athlete. Her hardcore male coaching staff told her to get back to her old self, so she trained relentlessly and developed a stress fracture.
And finally, in “The Change,” Yu addresses the bewildering transition from perimenopause to menopause and all the negative societal baggage that goes with it and weighs down women like me. Traditionally, “the change” has been described in terms of failure and loss—the failure of ovaries to produce eggs and hormones, the loss of bone, muscle, oxygen capacity, libido, and more—”reinforcing the cultural perception that middle-aged women themselves are past their prime and no longer relevant or useful to society.” It seems the only thing we gain with menopause is visceral fat.
Damn, this gets my blood boiling! Reading about the way women and their symptoms have been dismissed during menopause fires me up to strive to be energetic, strong, and sexual during the final third of life and not fall into the self-fulfilling portrayal that we’re becoming dried-up sedentary old ladies. As Yu writes, “We need to reframe the societal and cultural narrative around middle age away from limiting tropes that equate people with their wombs and reproductive capacity. Menopause is a fact of life, neither good nor bad.”
I understand why this chapter comes at the end, because it follows a chronological order of life transitions, but unintentionally the placement frames the topic as an afterthought or secondary to one’s fertility years. Yu illuminates how the medical profession treats it this way, too—OB/GYNs focus on obstetric care and infertility, because that’s where the money lies in research and treatment—hence there’s a knowledge and treatment gap for understanding menopause and all its repercussions for athletic performance, bone health, sexual health, and more.
Thankfully, that’s changing. After two decades of negative fallout from a poorly conducted JAMA research study in 2002—which inflated the link between hormone replacement therapy and an increase in breast cancer, heart attack, and stroke—women and their doctors are finally talking more about the benefits of menopausal hormone therapy, especially for women 60 or under who are within ten years of ending their periods.
Menopause is having its moment, with a surge of support and information about it. For example, this book’s chapter turned me on to a podcast community called Hit Play Not Pause, and I’m eager to listen to its episodes.
But, as Yu points out, so many unanswered questions remain about menopause that women like me are still figuring out how to manage it. These questions include, how does the absence of reproductive hormones due to menopause affect exercise capacity and training adaptation? What’s the effect of hormone therapy on athletic performance? Does the decline in estrogen influence risk of injury?
And the basic question most menopausal women like me struggle with: Should we take menopausal hormonal therapy, and if so, what kind and at what doses? I’m on my third month of an estrogen patch + 12-day progesterone pill, which has the downside of triggering some PMS symptoms when I go off the progesterone, but also seems to do some good in terms of my overall feeling and recovery during and after hard runs. I’m cautiously optimistic because I generally feel less stiff and tired.
Yu concludes, “The failure to study girls and women and to recognize their lived experiences has greatly impacted their role, participation, and success in sports, and ultimately their health and well-being.” Better late than never, research is catching up, and the system is changing. I’m hopeful my 25-year-old daughter will have clearer guidance and encouragement to thrive as an active, outdoorsy, strong woman through midlife and old age.
Reminder: If you’re following the Hardrock Hundred this Friday through Sunday, check out last week’s post. The second half has a collection of links to stories that will enhance your understanding and appreciation of this event.
Sophie is amazing and I loved learning more about her. And thank you for reading my book (I would rather read a Reese bookclub pick too!!), sharing your thoughts, and continuing the conversation here. I hope that we start to see more sustainable change for us and future generations.
Excellent post, Sarah. I have all the same questions you do. Perhaps I’ll try to read Yu’s book before I see my gynecologist next month. Let’s keep doing what we love for as long as we can!!