On the eve of the World Championships, the story of American men’s distance running feels like one of the most remarkable turnarounds in global sport. Just a few years ago, the idea of U.S. athletes consistently battling the East Africans on equal footing seemed ambitious at best. Yet by 2024 and into 2025, names like Grant Fisher, Cole Hocker, Yared Nuguse(not on World Team), and Nico Young are not just qualifying for world finals—they’re setting records, winning medals, and making the podium a familiar place. The question, asked quietly at first and now openly by coaches and analysts, is how this resurgence happened. The answer may lie in the most unexpected of places: the COVID-19 pandemic.

When racing calendars were wiped clean in the spring of 2020, the knee-jerk reaction across the track and field world was panic. For high schoolers, collegians, and professionals alike, the season was gone overnight. Yet the forced stillness offered a silver lining. Without the endless cycle of tapering, racing, and recovering, athletes suddenly had the chance to string together uninterrupted training blocks of three, four, even five months. For a sport that often complains of over-racing—especially at the youth and collegiate levels—the pandemic was an experiment in restraint, and the results four years later are telling. (If you’ve ever wondered what happens when runners stop pinning race bibs to their shirts every Saturday, well, apparently they turn into superheroes.)

Grant Fisher, who had just joined the Bowerman Track Club in 2019, became a prime beneficiary. Rather than spend his early pro years bouncing from one meet to the next, he immersed himself in consistent, deliberate training. By 2022 he had broken the American 10,000-meter record in 26:33.84, and in 2025 he stunned the world by setting the indoor 3000-meter world record at 7:22.91. Not bad for a guy who didn’t have anywhere to race for months. Cole Hocker, who had dazzled as a college freshman, also matured in this new environment. The extra time away from racing allowed him to deepen his aerobic base and refine his tactics. By 2025, Hocker was a legitimate global force, winning 1500m  gold in Paris, running 12:57 in the 5000 meters and holding his own against East Africa’s best. (Somewhere in Eugene, an Oregon Duck mascot is still running laps in celebration—and probably still gasping for breath.)

Yared Nuguse used the time to transform into one of the world’s premier milers, running 3:43 and anchoring himself as a mainstay at Diamond League meets. Nico Young’s high school senior track season was canceled due to covid.  He leveraged the extended base periods to eventually become a multi-NCAA Champion, American Record Holder in the 5000-meters and win a national title in the 10.000. These are not isolated cases but part of a broader trend: U.S. distance running, long seen as the underdog, suddenly looks every bit the equal of Kenya and Ethiopia. If it were a Rocky movie, this would be the montage part—minus the raw eggs, plus a lot more GPS watches.

Famed coach Brad Hudson, author of The Little Black Book, agrees that COVID had a surprisingly positive effect on U.S. distance running. “For sure more running, less racing,” he reflected. “It allowed runners to put their heads down and get to work.” He also noted how the restrictions reshaped coaching itself: “The time during COVID allowed run coaches to get much better.” With fewer races to manage, coaches could finally emphasize long-term development. Hudson added that the period brought the running community closer together. With more information uploaded online than ever before, young athletes could study the daily habits of their idols. “Kids were able to follow what their idols were doing,” Hudson said. “When I started coaching, I was hard on my athletes. They couldn’t see why, but seeing world-class athletes working in real time online, they now understand why.” (Translation: when coach says, ‘one more rep,’ he’s not just trying to ruin your Friday night plans—he’s following the Jakob Ingebrigtsen school of torture.)

This perspective resonates with other voices in the sport. Ben Rosario, then head coach of HOKA Northern Arizona Elite, remarked in late 2020 that uninterrupted training cycles produced deeper aerobic fitness and fewer injuries. Mike Caldwell of Greenville Track Club-ELITE highlighted the gift of recovery time, stressing that runners finally had the space to absorb training. These observations echo training principles used for decades in East Africa, where long aerobic buildup phases and sparing use of racing are the norm. Americans, it turns out, just needed a global pandemic to learn the same lesson. (Not exactly a coaching method I’d recommend repeating, but hey, results are results.)

High school and collegiate athletes in the U.S. are often trapped in a cycle of constant competition. Between cross country, indoor, and outdoor track, many race every week for months on end. This structure has long been criticized for stunting long-term development. The pandemic broke that cycle. Suddenly, teenagers and college stars alike could train without the distraction of frequent meets. When racing did resume, the effect was obvious: sharper performances, fewer injuries, and greater durability. Parents may not have loved watching endless time trials on YouTube, but the results speak for themselves.

Scientific studies support what coaches observed anecdotally. Global data from 2020–2021 showed that while overall mileage declined slightly, performance metrics for serious runners improved. Injury rates fell, mental health stabilized, and the consistency of training reached new levels. For elites, the absence of travel and constant racing stress meant more time to refine mechanics, push aerobic thresholds, and simulate racing in controlled environments. (Plus, runners finally discovered what a weekend without airports feels like—spoiler: it’s glorious.)

As someone who has long argued against the culture of over-racing, I, (Coach Joe Care aka TheTrophyHusbandi, saw the pandemic as an inadvertent laboratory proving the value of smarter training. The lesson is clear: extended training blocks, strategic racing, and long-term development create champions. The pandemic forced this model upon American distance runners, and the medal counts and record books now bear witness to its effectiveness. (I’ve been preaching this for years. Turns out it took a worldwide shutdown for people to realize maybe I wasn’t just the crazy guy yelling about tempo runs.)

Looking forward, the challenge is not just celebrating these gains but sustaining them. The temptation will always be to crowd calendars with races, especially at the youth and collegiate levels where competition drives visibility and funding. But if the past four years have taught us anything, it is that restraint can be as powerful as ambition. The athletes who used the COVID years wisely—Fisher, Hocker, Nuguse, Young—are proof of concept. They show that when racing is limited and training is prioritized, Americans can run with anyone in the world.

As the World Championships approach, this philosophy feels especially relevant. The U.S. is no longer sending athletes simply to participate; it is sending contenders, record-holders, and potential champions. That reality, born from a period of global disruption, may very well define an era of American dominance in distance running. What began as a forced pause has become the foundation of resurgence, and on the world stage, the results are impossible to ignore. (So grab your popcorn—or better yet, your electrolytes—because Team USA isn’t just here to jog a few laps. They’re here to shake up the whole stadium.)