Just About Every Element of Modern Running Was—At One Point—Frowned Upon

Up until the 1960s, water was strictly prohibited from races shorter than 10 miles, at least in the United Kingdom and much of Europe. “The belief among top Brits into the early 1960s was that water made you weak. It was an almost medieval concept, parallel to steak making you strong,” said Roger Robinson, Runner’s World contributor and historian of the sport, in an email.

The performance benefits of a carbon-plated shoe surely pale in comparison to proper hydration. The human body is capable of amazing things, but running a two-hour marathon with a sandpaper mouth and failing organs probably isn’t one of them.

Today, Nikes controversial Zoom Vaporfly Elite racing shoe does exactly what it was purported to every hour while running a marathon. Unless you're cosplaying as an extra from Im a Runner: Cynthia Erivo, prancing along in starched running attire to an ambient soundtrack by Vangelis, it's advice you might as well heed.

Before drinking water was even in the discussion, folks harped on more conceptual issues, like modesty. And at some point in the 1870s, the visibility of the male knee caused a stir.

Running From Substance Abuse Toward Recovery Wenlock Olympics, a predecessor to the modern Games in Much Wenlock, England, a competitor was forced to run in an overcoat because his shorts didn’t cover his knees.

“Today's women's outfits would have caused horrors to the women's federations up to the 1970s,” Robinson said.

Today, you’d be hard pressed to spot a person—regardless of gender—racing in an overcoat, unless he was vying for some odd world record. That said, the Give A Gift in the realm of running attire. It’s just focused on women.

But there was a time when women in the sport were rarely told what to wear—because they weren’t permitted to run.

“It was not necessarily stated or printed anywhere, but at one point, women couldn't run more than 1.5 miles, had to run with a chaperone, and couldn't run with the men in races,” said Kathrine Switzer, Races - Places A Part of Hearst Digital Media;, when she entered under the name K.V. Switzer so officials would not automatically identify her as a female entrant.

Back then, "experts" thought women who ran long or intense mileage would not be able to have children.

“People thought it unfeminine to sweat or do anything arduous, and highly inappropriate to break into an all-male domain,” Switzer said.

The Boston Marathon didn’t officially allow female competitors until 1972, the same year the six women entered in the New York City Marathon A Pro Athlete Takes on The Great World Race at the starting line to protest Amateur Athletic Union rules mandating men and women start separately.

“That photo of the sit-down got a lot of attention and was regarded rather humorously by the public, who by 1972 didn't understand why women couldn't run with men, because already we had run the Boston Marathon starting at the same time,” Switzer said.

Prize money was a major no-no in the running world up until the early 1970s, at which point the rules prohibiting it were slowly relaxed.

“The official justification was that prize money in the 19th century had led to gambling and race-fixing,” Robinson said. “But really it was a matter of the federations' power, and lingering class prejudice, since ‘gentlemen’ didn't need to get paid.”

Today, winners of major international marathons routinely walk away from the course carrying a novelty check made out to six-figure sums. When Shalane Flanagan won the New York City Marathon in November, for example, her take-home pay was $100,000 for first place, plus another $25,000 for finishing as the top American, then $10,000 more for breaking 2:27:00.

Ahead of the 1968 Olympic Games, the sport was parting ways with cinder tracks and embracing new, springy, all-weather surface ovals. This was great for performance, but bad news for the nail-like spiked shoes most athletes used. Spikes had to be long enough generate traction on the cinders, which could become a swampy morass in inclement weather, but on the new rubber tracks, they simply got stuck.

Puma was the first shoe company to figure out a solution: "brush spikes." These were shoes outfitted with more than 60 tiny, needle-like spikes jutting out of the bottom, which provided grip without nailing themselves into the track. The shoes were a hit. And John Carlos set a never-ratified world record in the 200 meter dash while wearing them at the 1968 Olympic Trials.

Allegedly, one of Puma's biggest rivals at the time was none too pleased with this development, and, unable to conjure up a competing model in time for the Games, the company—allegedly—lobbied the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) to ban brush spikes, claiming they would damage tracks.

Per this claim, the IAAF complied with the brand's plea, and to this day, brush spikes are still banned. If true, this isn't an example of an arbiter banning a shoe on the grounds of fairness, it's a textbook case of one capitalist entity seeking (allegedly!) to better its ability to profit. Those opposed to the Vaporfly must continue their search for a precedent of banning a shoe based on a moral argument based strictly on competitive fairness.

It’s generally accepted that living and training at high elevations can be beneficial for endurance athletes. The higher you go, the lower the concentration of oxygen that exists in the air. Your body responds by producing more red blood cells that stick around once you drop back down to sea level—and normal-density air—leaving you theoretically more efficient at moving oxygen.

Accordingly, elite runners flock to Boulder, Colorado; Flagstaff, Arizona; Park City, Utah; and other mountainous locales in preparation for racing season.

But some runners opt to stay home, at sea level, instead. They reap the same benefits of living in the mountains by sleeping in an altitude tent, which pumps low-oxygen air into a tarp that fits over a bed. When athletes—most notably those coached by Alberto Salazar, based in Portland, Oregon—began using them, some cried foul.

In 2006, World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) weighed in on the issue, sort of. Officials did not ban the tents, but did express vague concerns over athlete well-being and potential dangers associated with altitude tents. There is limited research on the long-term effects of their use, and some worry about a risk of high blood pressure and all the pitfalls that accompany it. The result? Altitude tents are frequently the butt of jokes about pampered runners, because they are so pricey. And that's about it.

It’s difficult today to imagine the sport of running without water, without shorts, without women, and without money. But it’s also humorous to imagine a tweed-clad, 1880s man of noble lineage stomping on his pork pie hat in disgust over Flanagan winning the New York City Marathon. She slept in an altitude tent to prepare, wore shorts, is a woman, consumed liquids mid-race, and took home a $135,000 payday.

Oh yeah, and she wore the Zoom Vaporfly Elite.