With less than two weeks to go until the Vermont 50 on Sept. 25, it’s time to take a moment to reflect.
During the final week of training, on the last long run before the taper, a thought popped into my head: I feel … fine?
Quite honestly, this revelation took me by surprise. While I had spent the last few months mentally preparing for numerous outcomes and possibilities (many of them dire), at no point did I think a 28-mile training run would feel normal. But, here we are.
This feeling of comfort amid what could have been immense discomfort was not the result of a single training block. Rather, it was the result of months upon months of training blocks, stacked up like the bricks of a nondescript building. When you train consistently over a long period of time, your foundation becomes so solid you don’t even notice it anymore.
All of that was by design. My coach, Avery Collins, laid out a plan that built me up, brick by brick, until one day the thought of running 200+ miles over three weeks of training seemed like no big deal.
We started in the fall and winter with a focus on increasing speed. During the spring, we built a big enough aerobic engine to handle the heavy workload in the summer. From there, it was relatively straightforward to add mileage.
As Avery put it: “All we’ve done is increase volume and slowly decrease intensity. We basically spent a year preparing for this year. And this year is going to prepare us for next year.”
In other words, none of this is an accident. Nor is it impossible. A few years ago the idea of running ultras seemed outlandish. A few years before that, the marathon distance seemed beyond my capacity. Yet, with smart training and the right motivation, fewer and fewer distances feel beyond my reach.
I recognize that not everyone has dreams, aspirations, or any desire whatsoever of running ultras. I also recognize that not everyone has access to a coach to guide them on their journeys. However, the lessons learned during this experience are universal. They can be applied to any endeavor, whether it’s training for a race or simply getting into shape.
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Which came first: physical fitness or mental toughness?
Let’s start with a riddle that has bedeviled runners for ages. Does fitness beget mental toughness, or does toughness lead to fitness? The answer to both questions is, yes. Rather than two distinct strands, there is clearly a throughline between fitness and fortitude making it impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
As you get fit, running becomes easier. Your legs don’t hurt as much, your heart doesn’t beat so fast, and your muscles no longer feel as though they’re on fire. As your physical burden lifts, so does your mental anguish. It’s so much easier to relax and have fun when you’re not worried about whether you’re destroying your body.
And yet, on a certain level, destroying your body is what training is all about. Maybe not destroying, exactly, but tearing it down and building it back up again through stress and recovery is what allows your body to adapt and grow stronger.
Over time, your baseline tolerance for inflicting damage upon yourself also grows more robust, so that you become increasingly comfortable with discomfort. You may even find yourself seeking out those difficult moments. That’s when you know fitness and toughness are intertwined.
When this training cycle began in July, Avery sprinkled in a number of “Runner’s Choice” outings with high climbing goals and a reminder to mix in tough technical terrain whenever possible.
This was something I asked for, something I felt like I needed to put into my quiver of skills if I was going to make progress. With the invitation extended, it was up to me to make the most of the challenge I had thrown down for myself.
Those runs reinforced the foundation for all the training that followed. Whether it was heart-pounding tempos, monster climbing efforts, or 5-hour long runs, this experience of placing myself in challenging situations taught me lessons about pacing and effort that translated throughout the summer.
From that point on, I knew I could run harder and dig deeper than I ever have before. Those runs not only taught me that I had more to give, they also gave me confidence that I wouldn’t breakdown mentally or physically.
My fitness made all of those insights possible, but it was my desire to improve that acted as the catalyst. So, which came first? It doesn’t really matter when your body and mind are working together toward the same goal.
It’s alright to back off
This was one of the hottest summers I can remember. We had heat waves that never ended with nary a drop of rain in sight. On several occasions, those conditions became too much for my body to handle, and I wound up cutting those runs short.
These were key training runs, and by and large, my performance in those outings was sub-par relative to expectations. My pacing was significantly slower that the goals Avery set, and it was difficult to maintain speed over an extended length of time.
Under normal circumstances, those efforts would have been huge red flags signaling that something was seriously wrong. Perhaps an injury or an illness could be getting in the way, or maybe I was in danger of burning out.
But these were not normal circumstances, at least not at this point in human history. These were extreme, and in some cases, potentially dangerous weather conditions to run as hard as I possibly could for a significant length of time.
There were times when I felt like the effort was too much for my body, and the heart rate data backed up that assumption. There were also times when the heat and humidity became so overwhelming that my desire to run at all completely evaporated. Once that happens, you’re on borrowed time.
So, I stopped running. I left miles on the table and never had any regrets.
During this period, all of my training dashboard numbers sank like a stone. My threshold pace rose by 30 seconds, my “race predictor” indicated I was becoming slower, and my “running performance” rated as POOR. None of those metrics mattered to me in the slightest because none of them account for meteorological conditions in their algorithm like excessive heat.
Had I continued pushing into the red in a vain attempt to protect my precious data and perceived status as a runner, I have no doubt that injuries, illness, or burnout would have been in my future. By listening to my body and trusting what it had to tell me, I made smart choices over and over again.
That paid off once the weather finally began to cool and I was able to put together successful workouts in late August and early September. Sure enough, all of those dashboard metrics came roaring back before settling into their previous levels like nothing had happened.
Yes, it’s important to push yourself if you want to improve as a runner. It’s equally important to tune into your body and learn to listen without judgment about what it’s telling you.
This is perhaps the most important crossroads in every runner’s journey. On one side lies indecision and ego. On the other sits patience and acceptance. Be patient. The best is yet to come.
I know one of my biggest mental hurdles is getting over a "bad" or shortened workout, and this summer had a good amount of those! Absolutely brutal conditions up here in NE. We just moved away from Vermont a few weeks ago and I have to say, I've never, ever experienced summer conditions like this. Really looking forward to seeing how the race goes this year, I sadly had to abandon my VT 50 training due to some freak medical stuff but will definitely be there in spirit!