Doping in trail running: where we stand and what needs to change

A few thoughts and clarifications the day after Joyline Chepngeno’s case

First, I want to clear up some misconceptions often repeated by experts, or so-called experts, who are quick to write on social media that “there are no controls in trail running.” This claim is simply not true. Sure, more could and should be done to protect the integrity of our sport. Yes, we need an out of competition testing program. But before spreading misinformation, here’s the reality of anti-doping controls in trail running today:

• Golden Trail Series performs anti-doping testing at each of its stages (8 races plus the final), testing the top 3 men and women (at least 54 tests in total; source: GTWS race director).

• UTMB works with the International Testing Agency (ITA), an independent, non-profit organization that manages anti-doping programs globally. UTMB invests around €100,000 in testing at the UTMB World Series Finals and Majors, targeting the top 3 men and women across at least 12 events (at least 72 tests in total; source: UTMB website).

• WMRA (World Mountain Running Association) partners with the Athletics Integrity Unit (AIU) and national anti-doping agencies to implement testing in line with the World Anti-Doping Code by WADA. At least six tests are carried out at each WMRA World Cup race, adding up to nearly 100 tests this year (source: WMRA).

• WMTRC (World Mountain and Trail Running Championships) of course have - and to my knowledge, they’ve always had - WADA testing across all their four events (at least 24 tests in total).

• World Trail Majors does not have an official anti-doping policy for the circuit. Testing is left to individual organizers, some of whom, I know for sure, do conduct controls.

• For other organizations and independent races, policies vary. Aravaipa (one of the largest US organizers) states that “any Aravaipa event may have drug testing. Testing is guaranteed at their two HOKA Golden Ticket races (Javelina Jundred and Black Canyon Ultras) and at USATF National Championships, with USADA responsible for collection and analysis.” The Western States Endurance Run (WSER) also partners with USADA to provide anti-doping services including sample collection and analysis services, results management, adjudication and sanctions management. Mammoth Trail Fest, one of the largest trail races in California, works with USADA for race-day testing across its events. Other major races, like the Grand Trail des Templiers or other national trail/mountain championships in many countries, don’t always make their policies public and don’t have an official antidoping policy clearly stated on their website, but typically conduct annual controls.

So, to claim that there’s no drug testing in trail running is simply not true. That doesn’t mean the system is sufficient, far from it.

We’re still paying the price for many years of misinformation and the absence of a proper anti-doping framework, due to the negligence of institutions and organizations, alleged “health programs” like the Quartz program, widely utilized in the past by ITRA (at the Trail World Championships), UTMB and Golden Trail, and the widespread belief that trail running could never be affected by the doping issue because it is “a pure and clean sport”.

We should be demanding more systematic controls at races and, above all, the establishment of an out-of-competition testing program. There is already strong momentum in this direction, for example from the PTRA, but not every organization prioritizes funding anti-doping programs. Often, the main barrier is economic.

Relying only on in-competition testing is a poor way to tackle the problem. Yes, it’s necessary, but realistically, it rarely catches athletes who carefully plan and strategically use performance-enhancing drugs. For now, I want to focus on the state of the art and highlight some of the major issues and limitations of the current system.

Lack of a unique governing body

One huge limitation is the absence of a unique governing body for trail running. Because the sport isn’t overseen by a single federation, responsibility for anti-doping has fallen largely on individual race organizations that, at various levels, have tried to do their part to maintain the integrity of the sport. Events that aren’t part of a federation or major series essentially “don’t exist” for antidoping authorities. Unless organizers request and pay for testing, it’s very unlikely to happen. One way race organizers can avoid this issue is by registering their event under an athletic federation affiliated with WADA. For example, if a trail race is registered under a national athletic federation (e.g. USATF in the US, FIDAL in Italy), it falls under WADA jurisdiction, and testing is then overseen by the national anti-doping body (e.g. USADA in the US, NADO Italia in Italy). Being affiliated doesn’t guarantee testing will happen at every race, it just makes it possible and integrates the event into the official system. Ultimately, whether testing occurs depends on budget, priorities, and agreements between the organizers and the federations.

Lack of deterrence

A second, more cultural issue is the weak deterrent effect of current sanctions to prevent athletes from using performance enhancing drugs. This is especially visible in countries like Kenya, where doping is already systemic in track, road running, and now trail running. There, doping is often normalized as just another path to the top level, and the sanctions are not enough to prevent those athletes from choosing this shortcut to success. Worst case scenario, athletes who get caught have a 2-4 year ban and just go back to normal life, before they might reappear on the scene.

Unequal responsibility

A third issue is that responsibility always falls entirely on the athlete, in case of a positive test. While this may seem reasonable in Europe or North America, where educational resources about anti-doping rules are widely available, and there’s often a large, well developed support system around the athlete, for athletes from Africa or other underrepresented communities, the picture looks different. We’re holding those athletes to the same standards without acknowledging our privileged position. This looks like “treating everyone the same”, but treating everyone the same isn’t fairness when people face structural disadvantages.

Meanwhile, agents, coaches, and managers who often profit from these athletes are rarely sanctioned. These people normally don’t lose the backing of a major shoe company, or suffer proportionate financial penalties when an athlete from their team tests positive. Sponsors will distance themselves from the athlete, but many times the managers continue to operate even when there’s clearly a responsibility. And what are those sponsors actually doing to protect clean sport?

White privilege and inequality

The most delicate issue I want to raise is about identity and privilege. As white people from wealthy, western countries, we hold advantages we rarely want to see. As photographer Sam Hill put it:

“Kenyan (and African) athletes face structural and systemic disadvantages that white runners don’t. Fairness would mean acknowledging those imbalances and addressing them.”

The story we tell ourselves—that trail running is a pure and fair sport—is a comforting illusion. In reality, it hides our lack of willingness to confront with deeper issues within our sport and, at a broader level, in our society. With Joyline Chepngeno and other Kenyan athletes, we’ve found an easy target for our frustration: a minority, underrepresented community, pretty much unable to defend itself, especially under the relentless grinder of social media.

Quoting Sam Hill again, “The narrative of “Kenyans are all doping” is a perfect tool to protect our white privilege, because it protects white dominance on the podiums, keeps the sponsorship money flowing through european and north american hands, and disguises the structural, racist and colonial dynamics baked into the sport of trail running

We clearly saw this dynamic in the contrasting reactions to Joyline Chepngeno and Stian Angermund’s cases. When Stian’s case emerged, many were open to the idea that he could be innocent and the trail community showed unconditional sympathy and understanding. For Joyline, almost nobody offered that same benefit of the doubt. One one hand, we have a white, Norwegian male athlete, on the other a black, Kenyan woman. This is the difference.

This will feel very uncomfortable for people to read, because it forces us to confront our identity and white privilege, things many of us would rather not recognize and see. But if you’ve done the work to understand how colonialism, capitalism, and racism operate, marginalizing people from disadvantaged communities and creating easy targets to blame for complex issues, then this shouldn’t come as a surprise.

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How do we still keep optimism, when one of the top athlete of our sport (winner of Mont Blanc Marathon, Sierre-Zinal and OCC within 2 months) is found positive? When the marathon world record holder and first woman to run under 2:10, Ruth Chepngetich, is caught with 19x the minimum reporting concentration of a diuretic? When race results, Olympic medals, and World Championship podiums are constantly rewritten because of disqualifications? How should resist the temptation to dismiss every pro or African runner as filthy, and believe there’s some integrity left in the sport? How do we explain it to young athletes, how should we not lose trust?

Last night, Anna Gibson, one of the brightest young talents in trail running, wrote on Instagram “we also lost trust. and that feels the most damaging”. I replied “Please don’t. You owe it to yourself. Keep your head up and keep striving for greatness. I know it sucks and it’s very sad, but athletes like you won today”.

Ultimately, cheating cheats yourself more than anyone else. That’s the lesson we need to teach to young athletes. We teach them how to win, chase records, fame and money before respect, fair play and discovering how great you can become. It all starts from education, that’s the only way to make a cultural shift that to me feels very necessary.

Yes we’re all sad. And angry, as we should be. Yes, more efforts should be made to protect clean sport. But yesterday, the system worked. It’s not a perfect system but as of now, it’s the best we have. Cheaters eventually do get caught. There have been more suspensions now than ever before precisely because there’s more testing going on. Our sport is not dirtier today. We’ve taken another step towards becoming a clearer sport.

Photo credits: Peignée Verticale, Philipp Reiterer