There’s a major binary that exists in our sport.

Likely perpetuated by the Golden Trail World Series to sell storylines, you’re either an uphill crusher, or a downhill destructor.

Even if you’re good at both, as soon as you’re really good at one, people automatically think you’re worse at the other.

Patrick Kipngeno? The best climber in the world. Sucks at downhills though.

Wait, we forgot Remi Bonnet. He’s the best climber in the world!! His downhills have improved so much!!

But can they beat Philemon at Sierre Zinal? No, because Philemon is better at the downhills. So too is Elhousine, who beat Remi in the final down at Mont Blanc. Oh, and then there’s Manuel Merillas, who in his native home near Zegama, can run faster on a downhill than anyone.

The women’s side?

Maude Mathys is the best at uphill hiking to ever exist! Judith Wyder somehow crushes downhills better than anyone despite being a stroke survivor. Isn’t it amazing that she can even see through her eyes?

Sophia Laukli is scared of downhills, so needs to take the uphills faster. Madalina Florea meanwhile just got here, but no one can match her flat road speed. If only she could get her fuelling right. Elise Poncet handles the technicality of those downs better than anyone, which makes sense given her skiing background.

These are just some of the binaries that Golden Trail perpetuates to create storylines in their series. To be honest, I absolutely love it. And there’s serious validity to most of it.

But there’s also an underrated story going on here that is so, so underreported. Professional trail runners exist as professional trail runners because they are good at everything. Hot take, I know.

99% of them are good at uphills. The ones who are “bad” at downhills usually can get better with simple adjustments to confidence, leg strength, and practice on technical terrain. You can improve your VO2 max and get better going up. You can significantly improve on downhills through a mix of practice, confidence, and reckless abandonment.

RELATED: How to run faster downhill

That’s what Remi did. He was the uphillest of all uphill climbers in the world, constantly leading out races from the front. He’d get to a downhill, and DNF. He switched coaches, supposedly practiced his downhills, and became practically unbeatable.

Obviously, a race like Pikes Peak still suits him better than anything, because it’s a pure uphill effort at altitude. He’s never been able to put it together at a fast, runnable race like Sierre Zinal, where the downhill to the finish often wins the race. There’s validity to the argument. But there’s also validity to the argument that Remi isn’t that much worse of a downhill runner than Elhousine, Manuel or Philemon.

So here’s a quick review of everything I’ve written on downhills so far:

My training partner in high school musical was this absolute gem of a guy named Ben Harris. I was known as the uphill guy. Him? The downhill guy. We definitely had our heads in the game. One day, I just studied him and asked the question:

“What is Ben doing differently?”

The answer? He simply let go. If he were driving a car, it would have driven off the road. But in running, it’s different. The body does all the work for you.

Ben’s approach was simply to lose control of his body. In response, he remained wildly in control. It’s what I call – reckless abandonment. He had this gear in his mind, where he didn’t care about getting hurt. Where he actually couldn’t even control his body to stop himself from possibly getting hurt. It was all about fearlessness. It was all about confidence. In many ways, it was about being dumb in all the smart ways.

I experience this every single day in training (being dumb in all the smart ways). On days where I’m carrying an injury, I approach downhills with fear. With good reason, I go slower. But most of the time, I’m free-flowing without any worries of falling.

It’s when you’re thinking about every step, that you are so much more likely to mess up.

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So first things first, downhill running is all about letting go. It’s all about confidence. It’s all about being dumb in all the smart ways.

Second things second, my main theory on the art: downhill running is a major mix of two key things.

1. Confidence.
2. Knowing when to take small steps vs. large steps.

I’ve written about this a few times, but I break down the discrepancy between the size of steps in this article here: Tips for running on technical terrain.

Third things third, it’s true! Smaller, petite athletes who have a ton of leg strength and come from a background playing other sports often have an advantage on downhills. Elise, Clementine, Manuel, Elhousine, Philemon… they’re all smaller athletes.

Must be something to do with balance and low centre of gravity.

But it doesn’t mean taller athletes can’t be good at downhills. Stian Angermund and Judith Wyder are both quite tall, and both known for dominating the downs.

It doesn’t need to be a one or the other.

What instead needs to happen for athletes considering their own skillsets and ability is this:

1. A recognition that your perceived ability is mostly mental.
2. A recognition that a little stimulus goes a long way in either artform.

Let’s say an athlete perceives themselves to be bad at downhills…

1. It’s mostly mental. It’s mostly about reckless abandonment, and just going with confidence, knowing when to confidently take small steps as opposed to large ones.
   
2. Any hard downhill stimulus from previous races or long trail runs will equate nicely to any new downhills on race day – especially if it’s a Classic Up-Down race, where the downhill might be just one long consecutive downhill (multiple downhill bouts are what actually break the body down).
   
3. Telling yourself that you are not good at downhills IS NOT what will actually help you get better at them, especially since it is so skill-based rather than engine-centered. You literally can get better at them.

Now let’s say an athlete thinks they’re not as good on the ups…

I, for example, know that my engine is not as big as others, and that I need the skill-based components to make up ground. It’s why I only signed up for the Classic Mountain race at this year’s Canadian Mountain Running Championships, rather than doing both the Vertical and the Up-Down. I’m saving all my eggs for the basket of sophistication and skill, while others will hopefully be mildly fatigued.

But truth be told…

1. Uphill running is essentially a combination of knowing when and how hard to push in different moments. Especially, when to hike vs. when to run. There is some sophistication that goes into the art. It’s not all fitness, all the time.
   
2. Any hard uphill stimulus from previous races or long training runs will equate nicely on any future race days.
   
3. Telling yourself that you are not good at uphills IS NOT what will actually help you get better at them, especially since it is so easy to shut down on an uphill when you feel yourself getting tired. You literally can get better at them.

So what I want to present is this:

1. You are probably capable of being amazing at both uphills and downhills, and it’s probably your confidence holding you back more than anything.
   
2. The binary that exists in the sport to create storylines is so fun, but less true than it’s made out to be. Most professional trail runners are professional trail runners for a reason – they’re pretty efficient at all of the artforms and more.

So stop with all the ‘one or the other’, start believing in yourself, and go out and practice being good. Thanks for reading and see you soon.