Saturday morning brought that familiar mix of anticipation and dread. The Allegheny 100 loomed just a week away, and today's mission was simple: 25-27 miles with 35 pounds on my back. More weight than I'd carry during the actual event, but a solid simulation of what my body would face over three days on the trail.
The pack felt manageable at first. Food, water, weighted vest—everything distributed as best I could manage. The morning air was humid, with hints of a breeze, and temperatures hovered in the low 60s. These would be the conditions for what I knew would be a long day.
The First Reality Check
Three miles an hour. That was the target pace, and for the first few 5K segments, I held it steady. 58 minutes for the first stretch, then 55:44 for the second. The numbers felt encouraging, even with those unscheduled stops that always seem to crop up on longer efforts.
But math has a way of sobering you up fast. 500 calories burned per hour at this pace. Ten hours of hiking for the Allegheny would mean 5,000 calories. Thirty hours? That's 15,000 calories—nearly 10 pounds of food. There's no way I'm carrying 15,000 calories on this fucking hike.
The plan crystallized as I walked: 25 miles on day one, 50 on day two, then wrap up with a gentlemanly 25 on Sunday. Ambitious? Maybe.
When Gear Turns Against You
By mile seven, that Montbell Zeo-Line shirt started its rebellion. The pack created a friction point that promised to be miserable by the end of the day. Mental note: Leuko tape next time. Always something you don't think about until it's rubbing you raw.
My left shoe felt too tight—one of those morning mistakes you make at the car and regret for hours. Too lazy to stop and fix it, I told myself it would sort itself out. It didn't. My feet would swell, the problem would compound, but stubbornness kept me moving. Eventually, I gave in and loosened it - much better.
The Sweet Spot
Around the 15-mile mark, something clicked. Four hours and 46 minutes in, my body had found its rhythm. The calves felt the work, shoulders carried the weight, but everything settled into that sustainable zone where you can just keep going.
That's when I made the smartest decision of the day—a quick stop at the car to reorganize the pack. The weighted vest had shifted into pieces, creating an uncomfortable, low-riding mess. Five minutes of adjustment changed everything. Same 35 pounds, completely different carry. With the pack sitting higher, the friction spot was no longer a problem, and suddenly the pack felt like part of me instead of fighting against me.
Finding the Limits
The encouraging part: 30K in under six hours. If I could maintain that pace on the Allegheny, 20-21 miles on day one looked realistic. Maybe finish by 1 a.m., grab four hours of sleep, then tackle the big 50-mile day.
But optimism met reality around mile 20. Six hours, 10 minutes for 20 miles felt solid, but my body was sending signals. Right calf tightening up. Hamstring pulling when I bent over. Feet starting to feel every one of those miles.
The sun played games all day—overcast, then breaking through, then threatening rain. By mile 23, I was ready to be done. The pack straps had found new ways to torture my shoulders, and I felt like Darth Vader in his armor, unable to raise my hands above my head.
What the Numbers Tell You
That final 5K segment humbled me: the first one below 3.1 miles per hour. My body had found its limit with 35 pounds after seven-plus hours. This pack, comfortable at 25 pounds and tolerable at 30, showed its true character at 35. Gear has limits. Bodies have limits. Knowing both matters.
The passing shower that caught me in the final miles felt fitting—a reminder that the trail always has one more variable to throw at you.
Lessons from Eight Hours
Standing at the car afterward, my pack finally off my shoulders, the day's education became clear. This wasn't about conquering distance or proving toughness. It was about calibration. Understanding what my body could sustain, what my gear could handle, and where the breaking points lived.
The plan for Allegheny 100 solidified: lighter pack, better weight distribution, and a reminder of the accumulated fatigue that comes with multi-day efforts. Some lessons you can only learn by putting in the miles and carrying the weight.
Twenty-six miles taught me more about my limits than any training plan could predict. Sometimes the most valuable thing the trail gives you isn't confidence—it's honesty.
Final Stats
Here's the breakdown for those keeping score:
Distance: 26.58 miles
Time: 8 hours, 19 minutes, 50 seconds
Average Pace: 18:47/mile
Elevation Gain: 3,658 feet
Heart Rate Zones:
Zone 1: 54% (≈4 hours, 34 minutes)
Zone 2: 20% (≈1 hour, 42 minutes)
Zone 3: 1% (≈5 minutes)
Zone 4: 0%
Training Effect: 3.3 aerobic, 0.9 anaerobic
Training Status: Productive
Recovery Time: 22 hours
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