Sprinter track runner teekay rezeau-merah

Why I misunderstood sprinting for so long and why most people still do

Insights from a former student-athlete.

I started sprinting in 2004. I made my high school teams, then college teams and for a long time I thought I understood speed. I trained hard, I listened to my coaches, I did what was asked.

I hit my ceiling at some point, then one thing led to another till I completely stopped running. I went into boxing in the meantime, then bodybuilding, and slowly but surely stopped training altogether. I played football here and there, surfed for a brief moment, but it wasn’t sustained. Hiking became my favorite thing. Great for cardio, makes me happy and snappy. I felt right where I belonged.

In 2025, after years of just living and many injuries later, I came back to sprinting as grownup. But this time, I noticed something uncomfortable that became obvious. For most of my early career as a sprinter, I was running fast without truly understanding why or how.

That realization is frustrating because it feels like wasted time, and wasted potential.

In hindsight, I now feel like I never went beyond 80% of my capacity. It wasn’t because of my coaches, I simply didn’t understand what my sport was all about, so today, I want to make sure whoever reads this does, because sprinting culture rarely helps.

  • What sprinting isn’t

Speed is constantly explained using endurance logic. Even the gadgets we use, however technical, aren’t really designed for sprinters. Not at the highest level anyway.

Sprinting, for the longest time, was explained through running more, working harder, suffering more than the competition. That mindset, aka hustle-porn, comes from the fact that long distance running dominates the athletics scene. Endurance events shape how people think training works, even when it doesn’t apply to their sport.

One of the first myths I believed (and most people believe) is that sprinters run a lot. We don’t, at all. I used to, but not anymore. I always assumed volume built speed. Matter of fact, many coaches still believe that, and end up frying their runners.

  • What sprinting actually is

Research has shown that elite sprinters accumulate very little true sprinting volume. Max velocity running is neurologically brutal. You can’t repeat it endlessly without dulling the signal from the brain to the muscles. When the central nervous system is tired, coordination goes first, technique collapses, ground contact times increase and speed vanishes. Running more just teaches you how to run slower. That was the first realization I made when I went back into it. Never again!

Next, I believed gym work was mandatory and that strength automatically meant speed. Lift heavy, get powerful, get fast. Not true! Sprinting happens in time windows so short that slow strength barely matters. What matters is how fast you can apply force and how well you recycle it through tendons and stiffness. I’ve seen athletes with modest lifts run incredibly fast and others with impressive numbers never move well on the track. Strength only matters if it transfers.

Another point, for years I misunderstood elasticity. I thought plyometrics were optional extras or warm up games. Coming back to sprinting made it obvious that elasticity is the bridge between strength and speed. I’m not saying I never heard this beofre, I’m saying I wasn’t mature (or smart) enouigh to understand it.

Tendons storing and releasing energy, joints staying stiff at the right moments, rhythm staying intact under high speed. Bounds, hops, wickets and short accelerations teach the nervous system timing. They turn power into something usable. Without elasticity, power stays trapped.

Speaking of stiffness, it is the mother of all improvement in sprinting, another aspect we hardly talk about, or train.

Body composition myths confused me too. Being muscular doesn’t make you slow. Being lean doesn’t not make you fast. Non functional mass is the issue. Muscle that can’t be expressed within sprint specific contact times is dead weight. Leanness that compromises force output is just as useless. Speed only cares about force, timing and coordination.

Drills were another blind spot. I used to see them as filler. Now I see them as low cost technical rehearsal. Drills allow you to practice posture, front side mechanics and rhythm without frying the nervous system. When speed is high, there is no thinking. The body falls back on patterns. Drills build those patterns.

Last but not least, the biggest lesson I learned in all these years is how important rest is, and I don’t just mean sleep, which is the obvious one. When I was younger, stopping early felt lazy, like I wasn’t hustling enough. Now I know it’s intelligent, the right thing to do even. Speed doesn’t improve inside fatigue, it improves when the nervous system is fresh enough to adapt. That’s why we take long breaks between sprints, to rest the nervous system. Adding sets instead of reps, ending sessions before speed drops, spacing high intensity days and protecting sleep are not soft choices, they’re performance choices.

Looking back, it wish I understood all these things earlier. But sprinting is misunderstood because endurance logic dominates sports in general. Distance runners train more and win more medals overall, so their methods are treated as universal. Well, science and elite experiences say they’re not. Speed lives in a different world.

Sprinting rewards intelligence. The faster you want to be, the smarter you have to train.

Cheers!

Tee