All runs are just training runs
But sometimes you pay a fee and awesome volunteers feed you and give you a medal at the end
Half marathon to 77K in just 8 months…
In October of 2020, stuck at a weight that made me feel like I didn’t recognize my own face, I bought a treadmill desk. I started walking daily during internal meetings and while doing the type of “boring but necessary” work that doesn’t demand my full attention. In 2021 I realised that I could combine my love of traveling with my love of walking to give myself a “reason” to see the country.
In October of 2021 I ran the first 5K race I’d attempted in over a decade. It took me a really long time, but it reminded me that I love running as much as I love walking. So I set myself the stretch goal to run the 10K version of that same race in 2022. Somewhere around the end of 2022 I met some run club folks, and that was that.
In 2023, I ran 5 half marathons, one full marathon, 3 ultra distance events (reaching 47Km, 48Km, and 77Km respectively) and a handful of anything from 10–32Km races on roads and trails. The first race was a half marathon in March, the 48 mile (77Km) ultra was at the start of November.
It may not surprise you that I’m known in my run clubs as either “Lunatic” or “Loopy” Jenn — because I just keep running races, sometimes on really short loops, sometimes on ski mountains, but always seemingly on a whim.
…made possible through 3 years of steady walking, listening only to my body, and not caring about finish time
In my early 30s, when I was participating in sprint triathlons, I thought I was in the best shape of my life. I had lost nearly half of my body weight through deliberate and goal-focused training and diet changes. Once I started participating in races, I naturally wanted to get faster and better at those races. I was never going to be competitive, but I wanted to out-compete my prior self.
I had goal races. I didn’t race too many times per year. I started triathlon because I was cross-training. I did all the things everybody told me to do, and I had a solid year or so of base built before attempting to train for half marathon distance.
And I was constantly injured. I couldn’t even get any decent mileage built up, and the one time I did manage a 10 mile run I hurt myself so badly I had to stop running for several weeks. I constantly fought ITBS. I visited physical therapists, experimented with all sorts of shoes, tried everything everyone told me, and eventually just gave up.
Now with my 50th year just around the corner the story is completely different. Because I’ve been walking to explore and get healthier, not for any specific goal, I’ve spent the last few years just gradually letting my body do its own thing. My pace has increased naturally as I started to cover more distance, and I cover more distance as my body allows. Some days it’s slower, some days it’s faster, and that’s OK because I still get to see all the amazing stuff out there in the world.
Then I started running, focused more on distance than speed. I’ve done a lot of mileage at various paces, most of it just comfortable, companionable and enjoyable. Taking walk breaks has been a cornerstone for me, and I don’t have any plans to stop even though I can run many miles without walking now. I run the whole time when I feel like it, I mix in walking when I feel like it. Most of my miles have been with a friend or two, chatting along the way. Sometimes we stop and gape at the stunning beauty of our local course. Yes, even during a race. And I’ve still managed to do two races faster than I ever accomplished in my 30s.
I have yet to run a long run to prepare for my long races. Instead, I run long races, because they’re a hell of a lot more fun.
A completely different sport, executed on the same route
What I’ve come to realise is that many runners run because they love to go fast. They love to win, or at least compete as hard as they can with their prior selves. Some runners seem to hate the act of running but love having run, so I guess maybe they want to get the run over with as fast as humanly possible?
These are the folks who have studied, obsessed over, and written almost everything there is to read about running. A core, underlying assumption for most runners is that you’re training for a single big race per year during which you will want to be at your peak, and so nearly all running advice is oriented around that assumption.
If that works for you, and you enjoy it and find it meaningful, then stop reading because I’m not talking to you. I love you, I cheer for you when you fly past me on the course, but you have all the writing and advice you’ll ever need.
This year I started looking for advice on how to train my body to just run consistently for the rest of my life, putting a big emphasis on avoiding injury. I adore the act of running (most of the time) and I want to be able to do whatever distance I want, whenever I want, as long as I have enough base built to tackle that distance.
For example, I’ve deliberately built my weekly distance to make me feel comfortable tackling 75K, give or take, with 100K as a stretch goal that I have yet to achieve but is attainable. I wouldn’t go out and try for 160K tomorrow. I don’t need advice geared toward novices and I don’t want advice oriented toward competitive runners and people running for time. I enjoy pushing my limits, but more as an ongoing thing, not a focused-on-a-big-race thing.
This is a different sport entirely. The goal of this sport is to run today, tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, pushing yourself to new adventures each time. In this sport, a race is often just a supported training run, where somebody hands you a banana and maybe a medal at the end. A race is an excuse to travel, see new places, meet new people, do some decent mileage somewhere new. And still, every race is — or can be — a test of your own limits.
I still struggle to find anything that directly addresses the idea, maybe because people are too busy living it and having fun and there’s sort of nothing to write about. I’m not sure what I was looking for, but I think it might be less about training and more about affirmation that doing things so differently from traditional running is OK and not going to hurt me.
I’m just not going to go do a 20 mile training run for a long race if I don’t feel like it. I’m also going to go do higher mileage on a race week if I do feel like it. And I’m a little worried that this utter disregard for what normal people do is dangerous somehow, even though it hasn’t panned out that way so far.
I’m hoping that truly, the only things I need to do are move my body daily at various speeds, back off if something hurts, pay enough attention not to stagnate, and have fun along the way.
My only running goals: push yourself, pull others, and have some fun
My third ultra was with a friend, three weeks after I’d let pain and bad nutrition stop me halfway to my 60 mile (96Km)goal in my prior ultra. I’d been careful to let my tendons heal properly and was going to act as crew if I couldn’t run safely. Once again, I had a 60 mile goal. I wanted to see how close I could get to it, and we got to 48 miles (77Km). We probably could’ve gotten a bit more, but we both chose to quit while we were feeling good.
Seen one way, I missed my goal twice in a row and I should be upset, or at least should start busting my ass in training. Seen another way, I accomplished a nearly 30Km gain in just three weeks.
I was thrilled to have missed my goal on purpose, to quit when I wanted, well before my body forced me to, so that my memories of the event were all 100% good. No gutting it out, just a joyful 48 miles. We both ran with our run club the very next day, and we both ran pretty fast (for us).
We chase goals so much that it’s easy to think a single race is make-or-break, that somehow one day out of a lifetime is more important than all of the training and effort leading up to it, or somehow more important than the next attempt, or the one after that.
A lot of people would think I failed because I didn’t leave it all on the course to hit a 60 mile goal that I definitely could have reached.
This year I have found people who know differently. They know that everybody on a course is your teammate and not your competitor; that a day on a trail is no more and no less than one day on a trail; and that a mile passed in good company is often better than running past someone. They know that sometimes your presence on a course matters to a total stranger for reasons you can’t fully know, so you do your best to be that person that someone else needs. And you always cheer for everybody, because we’re all out there doing hard things.
You push yourself and pull others, and you don’t hurt anybody, including yourself. You never leave anybody on the trail, and you celebrate everybody’s accomplishments. You set ambitious goals and work toward hard things, but recognize that it takes a lot of work and patience and support and many attempts to achieve those things. Why bother if you don’t love it?
We’re all doing hard things in this life. Push yourself, pull others, and try to have some fun along the way.
I have set myself a goal of completing at least 50Km — running, walking, or a combination of the two — in all 50 states. To acknowledge that I’m traveling on land that was stolen from others, I am donating to the First Nations Development Institute for each new state I complete or each state I travel to for a race.
Thank you for reading and supporting me on this journey. If you’re able to chip in — for your state, or for all 50 states — you’ll help me double the impact I’m able to make on my own.
