My Pinhoti 100 Training Wasn't Perfect. Here's Why I Still Feel Ready.
I'm writing this during my taper weeks for the Pinhoti 100, and I'm going to be honest with you: my training did not go the way I planned it.
I didn't hit the numbers I wanted to hit. Not even close in some weeks. And I think that's exactly why this is worth writing about, because I'd bet most of you reading this know exactly what that feels like.
What Life Actually Looked Like
On paper, a training plan looks clean. In real life, mine had a lot going on. I run a business. I have a 15-month-old daughter who is, without question, the best part of my day and also the reason I'm tired at 9 p.m. I'm working with patients. And on top of that, I'm reffing professional ice hockey, which means late nights, travel, and a schedule that doesn't care about my long run.
Trying to rest well, fuel properly, and get miles in while all of that is happening is hard. Some weeks sleep took the hit. Some weeks a run got shortened or moved. Some weeks I just looked at the plan and thought, there's no way.
It was an accumulation of a lot of things, not one big obstacle, and that's what wears you down. Anyone who's tried to stay on top of their health while juggling work, kids, and everything else knows that feeling.
What I Actually Did
Here's what a normal week looked like for me. My daily runs ranged from 6 to 15 miles, with one speed day each week. That's the backbone.
The other piece is something I'm proud of. I'm racing in Alabama, and I expect a lot of power hiking on those climbs. I live in Florida, where hills are basically a rumor. So I got creative. I put in one to three hours a week on the incline treadmill wearing a weight vest, just to build some strength and power for climbing. It's not the same as the real thing, and I know that. But it's the best way I've found to prepare my legs for what's coming.
We're Not Where We Wanted to Be. We're Going to Get It Done Anyway.
I'll say it plainly: I'm not where I wanted to be in training. But I know what it's going to take to get through this race, and I feel confident I'll get it done.
The reason is consistency. I didn't have perfect weeks, but I kept showing up. Week after week, the miles got done in some form. The hill work got done. The strength work got done. That adds up in a way a few heroic weeks never could.
When you're doing something as hard as running 100 miles, consistency matters more than any single workout. One missed run doesn't ruin anything. One perfect week doesn't make you ready. What matters is the pile of imperfect, ordinary days you stacked up over months.
What This Means for You
I see this with patients constantly. People feel like they need the perfect plan, the perfect week, and plenty of free time before they can start. Then life happens, they miss a few workouts, and they decide they've blown it.
You haven't. Whether your goal is a 100-miler, 18 holes without back pain, a 5K, or getting back in the gym after an injury, the same thing applies. A shorter session is still a session. A messy week isn't a failed week. What counts is that you keep showing up, adjust when you need to, and keep moving in the direction you want to go.
It also means building strength matters. Everything I'm asking of my body over 100 miles depends on having a body that can handle the load. That's true for the people who walk into our clinic too. Capacity is what lets you keep doing what you love.
Here We Go
So that's where I am. A little tired, not totally where I wanted to be, but ready. I'll let you know how it goes.
And if you're sitting there feeling like you're behind on your own goal, I want you to hear this: you're probably doing better than you think. Keep showing up.
Want help building a plan that fits the life you actually have? Book a discovery visit with Momentum Spine and Sport in Orange City, and let's put together something you can stay consistent with.
