March 8, 2014


A statement to myself, as I contemplate what they hell I'm going to do this fall: Don't try 100 miles.

You're not ready. Not mentally. Not physically.

In your best 50 mile performance, you averaged about a 9:30 mile. Not aerobically taxing in the slightest. Why? Because your legs couldn't handle really running the distance. So you jogged it. Which was smart. On that day, that was the best you could do.

Sure, you remember the last few miles. Finishing felt good. Winning felt better. But it hurt, didn't it? And those middle miles? 32-42? When you swore off, for the third time, ever doing anything this goddamn long again? Remember that?

I'm not saying to avoid pain, or that you don't have the capacity to endure it. What I am saying is that the damage was severe, even at such a slow pace. Your legs were telling you something crucial, something you shouldn't ignore. That your limiting factor is your training age, and thus your lack of structural and slow twitch development.

Sure, you've run consistently high volume for two years. Put another way, though, you've only done that for two years. No single training cycle can make up for that. No several training cycles can.

If you try 100, it won't go well. Not by your standards, anyway. You want to run it, for the most part. Approach it basically like any other race. And that won't work. Maybe not ever, but certainly not now.

Simply, you can't rush these things. Don't try.


  1. well ... so when would that be? Five years training age? 10?

    I can tell you I did my first at over 25 years of training and I still crashed at 50+ miles, pretty hard. That was probably less about training age and more about the training that I did ... and how I executed on race day (going through the first 50 in 8 hours seemed okay at the time ... not so much a dozen miles later).

    I am not saying you should rush this. But you don't know until you really don't know. I have only been there once but I found out pretty well at 70 miles.

    It it itches, scratch it. No regrets.

    1. When? No idea. I suppose, as you say, you don't know until you know. And there's probably something to be said for never really being ready. Certainly not the first time. You just absorb the kick in the teeth, and hope it doesn't knock you out.

      To be perfectly transparent - as if it isn't already - this is me trying to talk myself out of something I'd like to do. Or at least, something I'd like to see if I can do.

      You've certainly set me thinking. Thanks for that.