Allen Lim Pod Reflections

Is your sport clean, or are people doping? Maybe it doesn’t matter.

After being recommended this podcast multiple times, I finally listened to the interview between Jack Burke and Allen Lim on How to Become a Pro Cyclist this week. Allen Lim is the founder of Skratch Labs and a former coach of Lance Armstrong. They covered a lot of ground during their conversation, but two topics stuck with me. The way I interpreted their views on those topics is:

1. One of the biggest obstacles top athletes face is being too cool for the “Wannabe Mindset.”

2. If you don’t believe that doping is actually performance-enhancing, you’re not worried about whether your sport is clean.

These two points are fairly unrelated, but I thought both were interesting, so I’ll jump around a bit here. I recommend listening to the episode for context and to hear Allen and Jack’s full conversation, but rather than rephrasing what they said, I’ll share some of the paths my brain went down while listening to it during my Saturday run from Deer Valley to Snowbird to watch my friends race Speedgoat. Hopefully this gets some wheels spinning or starts a conversation. I think Allen’s take on doping is the more controversial of the two, so let’s save the best for last and start with the concept of the Wannabe Mindset.

My view while listening to said podcast.

The Wannabe Mindset: a blessing or a curse?

Allen has coached many of cycling and triathlon’s top athletes. He’s seen it all. When asked what common obstacles elite athletes face, he brought up the idea that some people think they’re too cool to be “wannabes.” The way I’d define wannabe in this context is: an athlete who isn’t satisfied with where they’re at—they want to be someone or reach a point in their sport or career they haven’t yet achieved.

This wannabe mindset is framed as a good thing. By staying hungry and always striving for more, top athletes push themselves harder and see more results. Athletes who’ve reached the top and get complacent may start feeling like they have it all figured out, like they’re too cool to show insecurity or admit they want more, leaving space for the competition to catch up.

This got me thinking about how much of a double-edged sword that perspective can be, in sport or life in general. If a never-satisfied attitude is the very thing that drives success and greatness, it could also be what prevents happiness. This idea stuck with me enough that I’m sitting here, days later, still thinking and writing about it, because I relate to it. Every time I accomplish something I once thought would exceed my expectations, I’m amazed and proud. For a minute. Then it’s on to finding the next potential source of amazement and pride. Each time, it has to be bigger and better, exceeding expectations by the same margin just to feel the same sense of satisfaction.

Trail running is a privileged thing to be able to do. We don’t need to go make ourselves suffer, covering these long distances as fast as possible. If we’re choosing to spend our time and resources doing this, it likely means other parts of our lives are pretty good. If you’re like me, you might already have everything you truly need. In theory, it should be easy to sit back and enjoy that. In reality, that feels like such an unproductive, meaningless way to live. It’s like in a race: if you’re not moving forward, you’re being caught. Sink or swim. It’s not even about others catching up, it’s about needing to feel internal progress. Maybe that’s a superpower that allows athletes to push limits, or scientists to expand human knowledge, or entrepreneurs to grow businesses. Or maybe it’s an affliction that leads to burnout, or depression, or damaged relationships. There are arguments for both sides, and it’s probably one of those things where the answer is something like “it can be good in moderation.”

Does doping matter?

The only moment in the episode that really shocked me was when Jack Burke asked Allen Lim, who coached known dopers during the prime doping era in cycling, whether he thinks the sport is clean now, about 15 years later. Allen’s immediate reply:

“It doesn’t matter.”

How can it not matter if a sport is clean? If clean athletes are competing against those using performance-enhancing drugs, isn’t that unfair? In many ways, I still think the answer is yes. It is unfair, it does matter, and it should be addressed. But Allen’s rationale was fascinating, and I’d never considered his perspective before.

His argument is that doping only matters if you believe it’s truly, holistically performance-enhancing. Sure, some athletes might pull off a great race, season, or even career while doping. But the entire time, they’re making sacrifices that can compromise their physical and mental health, perhaps to the point where a clean competitor actually has the advantage.

That led me to do a bit of research into the drawbacks of doping. Every drug has side effects, and so-called performance-enhancing drugs are no exception. For example, the main goal of blood doping in endurance sports is to increase red blood cell count, which improves oxygen delivery to muscles. But thicker blood increases the risk of heart attack, stroke, or pulmonary embolism—especially while at rest, like during sleep. Other banned substances, like stimulants and hormones, can disrupt sleep, which impairs recovery and increases stress. Long-term use has been linked to organ damage, mood swings, and behavioral changes.

That’s enough to be concerning, but the mental side effects of doping seem even more crippling. Imagine standing on a podium and knowing you cheated to get there. Wondering if you’d be good enough naturally. Feeling like you didn’t really earn it. Paranoid of getting caught. While dopers wrestle with that stress, clean athletes can draw strength from knowing they have the self-belief, integrity, and discipline to play fair.

I’ve written previously about doping after reading The Secret Race, which left me convinced that trail running urgently needed widespread anti-doping controls. I still believe that, but regardless of controls, people will find ways to cheat. That book detailed life in the early 2000s pro cycling peloton, when doping was rampant. What stands out to me now from those stories is the isolation and secrecy those athletes endured, often hiding their habits from even teammates and family.

Clean athletes, on the other hand, can focus on the process, the love of the sport, and the long-term journey. Dopers are constantly dodging tests, securing supply, managing doses, and dealing with feelings of guilt and shame. That stress must significantly affect performance, especially in a sport like trail running where doping is still stigmatized and not seen as inevitable the way it was in cycling during the Armstrong era.

Thoughts? Comments?

Do you ever struggle to feel satisfied with your accomplishments, even after reaching a big goal? Why do you think that is?

Do you feel like the drawbacks of doping outweigh the performance enhancement? If so, are clean athletes the ones at a competitive advantage?