On Thursday, in the heart of Paris, Faith Kipyegon embarked on an audacious quest to become the first woman to run a mile in under four minutes. This event was billed as a historic breakthrough for women’s sports, yet it concluded without the anticipated triumph. However, the absence of victory does not equate to failure. Instead, the attempt has become a fascinating case study in how marketing hype, media narratives, and scientific misinterpretations can distort public perception.
In February, a scientific study suggested that Kipyegon might achieve a 3:59.37 mile under perfect conditions, reliant on flawless drafting from pacers. The study assumed ideal running conditions and the best-case scenarios derived from ambitious mathematical models. It also required Kipyegon to be in peak condition, akin to when she set the women’s mile world record in 2023 with a time of 4:07.64. The authors of the study were transparent about these limitations, noting that if everything aligned perfectly, she might break the four-minute barrier.
The Role of Hype and Media Spin
Following the study, a Nike-sponsored event was orchestrated to facilitate Kipyegon’s attempt. However, media coverage of the study created an impression that Kipyegon was either already running close to a sub-four-minute mile or was merely a whisker away from achieving it with the right aerodynamic assistance. Nike’s multimillion-dollar campaign, tied to proprietary gear, framed the attempt as a historic moment in the making. The public was led to believe that scientific innovation was about to enable Kipyegon to shatter a barrier for women globally.
Whether the hype was due to misunderstanding or misrepresentation of the science, the outcome was the same: an inflated expectation of what was feasible. Notably absent from the narrative was a more conservative analysis published in April, co-authored by a Nike scientist, which concluded that the current data were “insufficient to suggest that a sub-4 minute mile is imminent.” This study did not feature in the company’s marketing, revealing that at least someone at Nike recognized the long odds. However, the myth of an inevitable breakthrough proved more marketable than statistical uncertainty.
Kipyegon’s Performance and the Reality of Elite Running
As witnessed in Paris, Kipyegon did not break the barrier, and she was not particularly close. She shaved 1.2 seconds off her personal best but needed more than six additional seconds to reach the elusive mark. In the realm of elite running, where medals are often decided by fractions of a second, this was not brushing history—it was chasing a distant shadow.
The outcome, though disappointing to some, should not be surprising. This was always a moonshot. Transitioning from a 4:07.64 to a sub-four-minute mile represents more than a 3 percent improvement, a quantum leap in elite distance running. Kipyegon was already performing at the limits of human potential, honed through rigorous training since her teenage years, with access to the best coaching, training, and footwear modern sports can offer. The notion that aerodynamic tweaks, pacers, and a new Nike sports bra could bridge that gap was, frankly, overly optimistic. Eliud Kipchoge’s sub-two-hour marathon, under similarly ideal conditions, required only a 1.6 percent improvement. Why would Kipyegon experience double the benefit?
The Consequences of Overhyped Scientific Promises
Leading up to the event, the consistent message was that science would make the “impossible” possible. Now, with the attempt falling short, the public may unfairly question why the scientists got it wrong. This pattern is not new: inflate the promise of a scientific study, spin it into a marketing campaign, and retreat quietly when reality doesn’t deliver. Over time, this pattern erodes public trust in science, which is particularly frustrating because the actual science was clear, but the nuance was lost in media coverage and Nike promotions.
Moreover, the method suggested for Kipchoge’s historic attempt was dispiriting. For this event, Nike included a team of pacers, mostly men. Male pacers were chosen because they are physiologically more capable of maintaining fast and steady splits at a pace few women can hold. This is biology, not bias, but the message it sends is hard to ignore—to reach greatness, a woman needs men to help her get there.
Reflections on Women’s Sports and Future Implications
This dynamic was evident throughout the broadcast, during which nine-time Olympic gold medalist Carl Lewis remarked, “Sometimes you have to change the rules for people that are special. We have to find a way to let the world see her excellence. And if you have to change the rules a little bit, let’s do it.” While intended as praise, it reinforced the notion that a woman’s excellence requires exceptions—as if her three Olympic gold medals and current world records were insufficient. Now that Kipyegon didn’t break the barrier, the message echoes louder: Even with a team of men and the best possible conditions, women still fall short.
It’s a paradox that sports can’t seem to escape: We celebrate women’s achievements, yet still contextualize them against male standards. When we anchor greatness to male physiology and then devise contrived ways to help women break through these barriers, we don’t elevate women’s sports—we undermine them.
The time trial wasn’t framed as an elite athlete chasing a personal best or improving upon her world record. Instead, it was explicitly a campaign to break the four-minute barrier on behalf of all women. What now, that she didn’t achieve that? Nike marketed Kipyegon as “brave” to chase a target she likely couldn’t reach. But celebrating someone for attempting the physiologically impossible is not progress in women’s sports equality. A system that sells a triumph of courage regardless of outcome risks patronizing women athletes, rather than respecting their actual achievements.
This wasn’t about Faith Kipyegon’s dreams or talent. She didn’t overpromise, and neither did the actual science that inspired this. Instead, this was about a corporation selling sports bras and speed suits by turning long odds into marketing gold via an unrealistic hype machine.
Ask yourself what is a more inspiring moment: Kipyegon charging through the final lap alone, widening the gap from the world’s fastest women as she sprints to a 4:07 finish in 2023? Or watching her flanked by men, straining to stay with their effortless pace, crossing the line in 4:06? I’ll take the former, every single time.
