Back in my early running days, I treated race season like an all-you-can-run buffet. I’d stack races high, chasing that “just one more” feeling like it was closing time at the Golden Corral. Unfortunately, you can’t take leftovers, and a DNF hurts a lot more than nearly overdosing on spicy fried shrimp.
A few years (and many shrimp) later, I’ve gotten better at building that Goldilocks race season: just enough action to stay motivated without overdoing it and ending up hitching a ride out of a 100K, crying in the front seat of a ham radio operator’s truck (we’ve all been there). Racing can be training, but only if you respect the recovery it demands and time things just right, so you show up excited and prepared on race day. The difference between progress and plateau often comes down to strategy, and knowing when to skip the questionable shellfish, no matter how tempting it looks under the heat lamp.
Each year, I aim for one or two “A races,” the marquee events I build my season around, like the filet mignon you grab when you finally make it to the good part of the buffet. Then I’ll add a couple of “B races,” smaller training events that don’t require much taper and mostly serve the main course, think mashed potatoes or a side salad. Load up your plate with nothing but steak and treat every race like an A race, and you’re on the fast track to burnout, and probably heartburn. (Never write a newsletter on an empty stomach.)
Racing teaches your body and brain things that are hard to replicate in training: how to troubleshoot nutrition at mile 52, manage hours of lactate buildup and glycogen depletion, and handle psychological pressure that solo runs rarely deliver. Even using a shorter ultra as a tune-up for a longer event forces you to calibrate effort, read terrain, and make real-time fueling decisions under stress. Carrying a bit of fatigue from a training block can also build the physical durability and mental resilience you’ll need in the back half of your goal race, as long as you give yourself time to recover and adapt afterward. This is especially crucial for runners tackling high-vert A races: the eccentric load of long descents is tough and risky, to simulate in training, but racing on similar terrain helps condition your quads through the repeat-bout effect.
When you’re filling up your race buffet plate, strategy matters. If your A race packs 8,000 feet of vert, your B races should also serve up a hearty helping of climbing, especially because your training for both will be aligned and congruent. If your goal race is fast and flat, choose supporting events that mimic those demands. It doesn’t have to be a perfect match, but finding a B race with a similar average gain and loss per mile will train both your legs and your brain for what’s ahead. Racing a flat road marathon before a mountainous 100K? That’s like chasing buffet lasagna with a Philly cheesesteak, technically possible, but not advisable.
If your A race is at altitude, look for tune-up races at a similar elevation, not because you’ll magically acclimate (true acclimatization takes about three weeks), but because it’ll help you calibrate your effort when oxygen gets scarce.
Use B races to build volume gradually. If you’re targeting a 50-miler, aim for a 50K four to six weeks out. More experienced runners can squeeze that closer, two to three weeks before their A race, if recovery is well-managed and training volume is consistent.
Adaptations happen during recovery—not during the effort itself. Training and racing create stress in the form of muscle damage, glycogen depletion, hormonal disruption, and central nervous system fatigue. Recovery is when your body repairs, rebuilds, and overcompensates, making you stronger. Rush that process, and you’re just piling more food on an already full plate, you’ll end up with a mountain of mashed potatoes smothered in kung pao shrimp and elotes.
In the first 48 hours after a race, your system is dealing with micro-tears in muscle fibers (especially from downhills), inflammation, immune suppression (making you more vulnerable to illness), glycogen depletion, and wobbly coordination. Over the next three days to two weeks, your body gets to work: repairing tissue, replenishing glycogen, and rebalancing hormones like cortisol and testosterone, but only if you rest appropriately. Forcing hard training too soon is like sprinting back to the buffet before your first plate has even settled; it just leads to regret, and a late-night Google search for “gravy, lethal dose.”
One season is just a chapter. Year over year consistency is what matters most. The best ultrarunners are the ones who’ve been at it long enough to know how to build a race season that supports not just one peak performance, but years of strong, happy running. Every athlete eventually learns to balance ambition with sustainability, to understand that rest is training, progress takes years, and not every season will be a breakout. There’s always another trip back to the buffet.
Success isn’t just PRs and podiums. It’s staying injury-free for a year. It’s finishing a race feeling strong enough to scoop up your kid at the finish line. It’s feeling motivated but not micromanaged by your training calendar. It’s learning what your body needs—and actually listening.
Every season you train intelligently, recover properly, and avoid burnout is a season that compounds. Fitness builds on itself. Adaptation accumulates. The runner who trains conservatively for three years will always outlast the one who goes all-out for one and spends the next two recovering from it.
You may not get a belt buckle for being smart, but honestly, who’s still wearing belts?
Building a race season is like pacing an ultra: if you go out too hard, you’ll blow up before the finish. Start conservatively. Trust the process. Give your body the recovery it needs to adapt. Remember, the goal isn’t to cram as much racing as possible into a few months; it’s to build a relationship with running that lasts a lifetime.
And hey, try something new while you’re at it. Take a chance on that mystery meat. Grab an extra helping of that unidentifiable dessert. Smother it in the enigmatic, unlabeled dressing at the end of the buffet. Life’s short. I’m getting seconds.
Thank you. Looking to do my first ultra this year. Any recommendations that way? Road races for years many half marathons a few marathons looking to transition to trails.
1) 50k or 50 miles
2) any recommendations on first race?
Thanks for all you do I’ve been listening to you and Buzz for years.
This is exactly what I needed to read right now. I’ve been laying out my plans for next year and stressing over it SO much. I LOVE running, and I definitely want to make sure I can continue doing this stuff for years to come. I need to step back, relax, and stop worrying that I’m not going to sign up for enough races.