My heart rate spikes as I power up what feels like the hundredth hill. The Garmin on my wrist beeps an angry reminder that I've jumped from Zone 2 to Zone 3 again. "Strained," it's been telling me for weeks. But the February sun is shining for what feels like the first time in ages, and I'm not about to waste it sitting inside. Sometimes, data needs to take a backseat to instinct.
The First Run of February
The parking lot tells a story this morning—unexpectedly full for a day when the temperature reads "feels like 16 degrees." I'm not the only one with cabin fever. After weeks of gloom, the sun has finally broken through, and the trails are calling despite the chill.
Today's mission: a 10K on the same exact trail I ran this weekend last year. A nostalgic benchmark of sorts. I briefly consider doubling the distance to 20K, but quickly dismiss the thought. My ultra is later this year than last—though longer—and pushing too hard now would be pointless.
I'm traveling light today: just my mountain vest with 20 ounces of Skratch, no weighted pack. I'll wear a wind-blocking vest over a base layer, shorts, tights, gloves, a hat, and my Sierra Nevada buff from last year's Asheville trip. As I set out, I wondered if I should have added another layer. It's definitely cold.
When Your Watch Says "No"
My Garmin and I have been at odds lately. For weeks, it's been categorizing my training status as "strained"—a frustrating plateau after an 8-10 week "productive" streak last fall.
"I feel fine," I think to myself, watching my heart rate climb faster than it should. The data says otherwise. Sleep hasn't been great, recovery metrics are off, and what should feel easy feels harder. I recently reset the watch, thinking maybe it was glitching, but nothing changed.
I'm determined to stay mostly in Zone 2 today, which means walking some of the steeper sections. But my legs are restless, and I want to go fast.
Finding a Rhythm on Melting Trails
The trails show signs of winter's retreat. Despite today's chill, most of the snow that isn't piled up has melted during the week, leaving occasional muddy patches where mountain bikers have left handprints after slipping.
The first steep climb solidifies my position in Zone 3. I ease back, trying to be intentional about my effort. "I do want to move with purpose," I remind myself, "but not at the expense of recovery."
The first 5K passes in 40 minutes and changes—faster than expected, given how I feel. Downhills have helped my pace considerably. It's not record-breaking by any means, but I'll take it.
The Mental Game at Midpoint
February 1st marks my first day after Dry January, and as I cross the halfway point, my mind wanders to whether I'll celebrate with a beer tonight. I'm not a heavy drinker, but I enjoy a good IPA (sometimes two or three). This year is about different priorities, though—weight loss being one of them.
The trail gets busier as I continue. Mountain bikers navigate the slippery sections with varying success. I pass a few spots with telltale handprints in the mud where gravity won.
At mile five, I check my stats: my average speed is around 4.4 mph. "For an ultra, that's great. For a 10K trail run, not so good," I think, but I quickly correct myself. Everybody's got to start somewhere."
The Final Push
The last section is flat, mainly on the fire road—a welcome relief after the hills. My mind drifts to my training history, how I was doing daily 5Ks through October and November, getting faster... until I wasn't. My last mile in those 5Ks started progressively slowing, a warning sign I ignored as my Garmin status slid from productive to maintaining, to recovery, to unproductive, and finally to strained.
The disconnect between data and feeling is the most interesting part. My heart rates are running high, but I don't feel particularly fatigued. The second 5K takes me 42 minutes—those long hills definitely slowed me down.
As I approach the finish, I realize despite everything, I'm about 10 minutes faster than when I run with my loaded fastpack. Not too shabby.
The Numbers Don't Lie
Back at the car, I reviewed the data: 6.27 miles in 1 hour, 25 minutes, and 23 seconds, or a 13:37 pace. My average heart rate was 149 bpm, notably higher than last year's 142 for the same course. My time in zones was 72% in Zone 2 and 17% in Zone 3.
My performance condition started at zero (baseline), surprisingly climbed to +2 during parts of the run, and finished at +1. Yet training status remains "strained."
The most telling metric might be stamina, which starts at 99% and ends at 42%. For anyone training for longer distances, that drop is a red flag that needs to be addressed.
Looking Forward, Not Back
Tomorrow brings a ramp test on the indoor trainer as I start integrating TrainerRoad for triathlon training. Then a ruck on somewhat tired legs—distance to be determined at game time.
The journey continues, regardless of what the watch says. Sometimes the metrics align with how you feel, and sometimes they don't. The key is knowing when to respect the data and when to trust your body.
Final Stats
Here's the breakdown for those keeping score:
Distance: 6.27 miles
Time: 1:25:23
Average Pace: 13:37/mile
Heart Rate: Avg 149 bpm
Elevation Gain: 820 feet
Heart Rate Zones:
Zone 2: 72% (≈61 minutes)
Zone 3: 17% (≈15 minutes)
Training Effect: 3.6 aerobic, 0.2 anaerobic
Training Status: Strained
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