Grit, Determination, Focus and a Spreadsheet — My 80k Training Recipe
A story of how I coached myself for my first ‘real’ ultramarathon.
The ‘joy of running’ is a feeling that everyone has their own unique definition of. For some, it’s about that rigour and effort to achieve their next Personal Best. For some others, it’s about the ‘me time’ that lets them disconnect from everything around them through the few hours of sweating it out. While for some, it could also be about that finish line and the joy of crossing it. And for those who enjoy simple things, it is just about putting one foot in front of the other and feeling the wind.
For me, for the last 18 weeks, it was a spreadsheet.
The Beginning
Fresh from my debut skyrace experience, I had my eyes set on the next one. I was due for a redemption round due after my 26th km bonk at last year’s Bhatti Lakes 30k event. And after having completed a bunch of entry-level ultras, I was ready to take the next step.
Disclaimer: An ultramarathon is an ultramarathon. Whether it’s a 31-miler or a 50-miler, or even a 100-miler, anyone who runs ultras or has run one has already established their crazy quest for going beyond the ‘standard’ benchmarks of human endurance and ambition. So while I call this my first ‘real’ ultramarathon, that’s purely for dramatic effect and not meant to belittle or minimise any other marathon or ultramarathon effort.
18 weeks. That’s what I had. To train myself to cover 80 kilometres spanning over 4 rocky, thorny, dusty, bare earthed loops of 20 kilometres each. The abandoned illegal mines at Bhatti Lakes were to be conquered.
The Method
There had to be a process. There had to be a plan. Not just a plan based on time or weekly distances. Something more. Something that I knew my mind and body could take — the quest to discover my joy of running.
The first part was easy. I just needed to draw what the next 18 weeks of my life were going to look like. Dividing the duration into 3 phases or mesocycles with a week of active recovery sandwiched between, I quickly charted out my running calendar. Something that looked like this.
The next part was easier. With the blueprint drawn, I just had to cook up some comparison numbers, create a tracking sheet, and have the playground ready for what was to be done.
The Madness
I needed more.
I came upon the realisation that there were going to be compromises. Life would not be the same as what I was used to as a runner. There would be more tugging from all sides of the balance. Little did I know that the whole process would try to consume me entirely. And then came the first zero-mileage week in as early as week #3.
So I turned to my love for data to use as a crutch. And that’s where the madness truly started.
Metric after metric, trial after trial, I needed to be able to see what it looked like. There were graphs, there were calculations, there was low-level data science, there was low-level data engineering — in some way, it felt cathartic fusing my professional skills with my running journey.
Numbers have a weird way of talking to you. You can manipulate them to show what you want to see, but that gratification is a double-edged sword. You then start chasing the numbers rather than what they symbolise.
It happened eventually. All I could think of was how to get my numbers right. If mathematics were to define my joy of running, then mathematical it had to be. The high from a training run soon started getting overshadowed by the sight of the graphs updating. The madness had consumed me altogether.
And then, day in and day out, all I could think of was crossing that finish line and crossing it strong. I still do, as I write this post.
The Journey
18 weeks is long. Even by standard training plan durations, it is longer than most of the longest plans by 2 weeks. Aware of this, I wanted to avoid monotony and the dreaded Idontfeellikerunningitis. The structure, therefore, had to be a combination of purpose and excitement.
This story will stand incomplete without mentioning the actual journey, sans psychology. While the plan was built on trail runs, measured by a combination of distance, time on feet and effort, the highlights are less mathematical. The following paragraphs are a summary of the structure, the end result, an overall report card, and some sights from the trails.
Phase 1 — Base (5 weeks): Focus on a running rhythm, hit pace and effort sweet spots, define a running pattern, run on trails, get loads of elevations, get familiar with running on tired legs — were the ingredients. A baseline weekly coverage in the 60km ballpark to do the job.
Barring one week of zero running due to an emotional and personal loss, I was able to pretty much nail the rest.
Recovery (1 week): Drain off all excess baggage, get ready for peaks.
All went as planned.
Phase 2 — Peak 1 (4 weeks): Get used to running for longer durations, go slower than target, get a handle on heart rate and effort, keep getting elevations. Get back-to-back long runs, basically forego all weekends. Keep a baseline coverage in the ballpark of 75km, but with longer time on feet.
Again, all went as planned. I was also able to improve in the heart rate zone 2, which was an added bonus.
Recovery (1 week): Drain off all excess baggage, get ready for peak 2.
Family emergency put me off running for this week.
Phase 3 — Peak 2 (4 weeks): Get back to running longer distances, go closer to target pace, keep effort consistent, keep getting elevations. Keep losing weekends. Keep a baseline coverage in the ballpark of 75km, but closer to target pace.
Exceeded the targets consistently. Injuries came and went, yet I was able to clock two 100km weeks. Yes, I did try and break the cardinal rule of not chasing lost mileage — but my heart felt up for it and my body supported me.
Phase 4 — Taper (3 weeks): Gradually reduce weekly coverages, start loading on carbs, just enjoy running and be grateful for where my body was, stay close to time and effort targets.
Resisting the temptation to go harder or longer during taper can be hard. It’s all about restraint.
Adherence to plan: More or less, I did stick to it. The calendar was a blueprint and not an absolute directive, and adherence to it was purely a function of where my mind, body and numbers converged.
Variations in weather: Delhi sees 3 climates from July to November — summer, monsoon and the onset of winter. And in between, Delhi sees the worst spells of humidity and ten days of the worst air one can imagine breathing. Between temperatures upward of 45C, humidity upward of 95% and air quality upward of ‘hazardous’, it has been pretty much upward of tough.
Injuries and health: No training story is complete without the mention of injuries. Mine is no different. There were threats to mine as well as family members’ health. There were also the dreaded threats of overtraining-related injuries. Plantar fasciitis, patellofemoral pain, medical emergencies in the family, and two bouts of the flu — got them all. The only way to not let these win is by conquering these threats.
Peripherals: I’m vegetarian, eat mostly clean food, with vices kept to an almost non-existent minimum. I walk loads, take public transport to work that again involves a lot of walking, generally take stairs, and am active throughout the day. And while I didn’t follow a strength training routine, I did mix up my runs with a good amount of stretches, planks etc. — all of which contributed indirectly to the quality of training.
And some glimpses of the last 18 weeks.
The Spreadsheet
Finally, yes, this story does include the spreadsheet, made public for the first time.
The Present
I intentionally decided to write this post before race day. I feel this is the best way to capture and articulate how I look back at the last 4.5 months. Doing it post-race will just cloud it with bias.
So when I do look back, I see my own transformation journey with clear eyes. There was loss, there were compromises, there was disappointment, there was dejection, there was self-doubt. But on the flip side, there was the elation and sense of accomplishment of having stuck to a plan. And I truly feel I’ve emerged a stronger and humbler human being.
And none of this could have been possible without the greatest pillar of support in my life — my wife.
How much was it worth? Will an on-target finish make up for the lost time? Or do these 18 weeks have no payoff? I don’t think I’ll be able to answer these questions, irrespective of how I perform tomorrow. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to repeat this process ever again. What drove me to completion were the right amounts of stimuli at the right time — events that happened at that time for a reason, and that is the very reason why I’m at this juncture, defining what the joy of running is to me.
In any case, the withdrawal pains are going to be so real.
