Dinathlon Multisport & Nutrition

Two years ago today, I hobbled to work on a pair of crutches for the first time. I hadn't run in almost two months, and I wouldn't for another two plus.

Ten days ago, I ran 20 miles on the trails. Eleven days from now, I'll toe the start line for my first 50k in the mountains.

People still ask me all the time: "Are you fully recovered?"

Is full recovery even a thing? At this point, I'm doubtful.

My foot has been healed for the better part of two years. The long lingering neurological crap is almost nonexistent, but not entirely. Random new niggles pop up all the time. There is likely still an unsolved autoimmune mystery. I feel like I'm 90 sometimes; my hamstrings ache, my calves are tight, my Achilles are mad.

But I ran 20 miles in the mountains. It was only the fourth time in my life I've run 20 or more miles, and the first time on trails. In the weeks before that, I ran 18, and 16, all of which were my longest trail runs ever.

The day after I ran 20, I ran 6.2 to make it a marathon weekend; running again after a huge effort was something I never thought my body would do. New achievements, new accomplishments, new moments to be proud of.

It doesn't matter if I don't finish this 50k, though I hope I will. It doesn't matter if I haven't hit "full recovery," whatever that is. 

I have come so far, and it feels pretty awesome.

Trail runners, what would you add?

Friends:

Your stomach isn’t a restaurant. Or a supermarket. Or a store of any kind.

You don’t have to wait for it to open for business in the morning, and it doesn’t close its doors at 8 pm sharp.

There’s no “last call” to get in any final snacks at 7:30 pm.

Nothing bad is going to happen if you consume food outside of “normal business hours” (or outside of whatever time that random person on Instagram said you should be eating).

It’s okay to eat. No matter what the clock says.

That is all.

Ragnar Trail Colorado 2026!

Last weekend fit quite nicely with the continuing trend of adventures running up mountains, just a bit differently. Ragnar events are relay races typically point to point, but this one was headquartered in one spot, and all teams camp together and run their relay legs as loops. Our entire group consisted of three eight-person teams (which I was on) and one four-person ultra team, so 28 of us took over the campsite with, like, eight tents, multiple stoves, and roughly half the contents of Costco.

Run 1: 6.8 miles in the heat of the day (the Sun of Ten Suns becomes the Sun of A Hundred Suns out at 8000+ feet) first 2.5 miles straight up a steep-ass road, then another 1.5 miles up a steep-ass trail all along the ridgeline of a mountain. My calves became rocks, my feet went numb, the heat kicked my ass, but the views were so amazing I couldn't even function well enough to take a non-blurry selfie with the snow-covered mountains in the background. Post-run: slammed an out-of-the-ordinary-but-my-body-craved-this sandwich consisting of cheese, potato chips, pickles, and mustard (yes, all inside the sandwich), died a little bit due to the altitude and the heat, passed out for an hour or two in the tent, and woke up to the setting sun and a wildly abrupt shift to being absolutely freezing.

Run 2: 5 miles in the dark, running largely along the side of a mountain, from what I could tell from solely my headlamp. Quiet, peaceful, mostly only me and some spiders scurrying across the path, and wondering when the hell I would stop ascending. At the "top" (turned out to be one of many false summits), I turned off my headlamp and just looked at the insane amount of stars for a few seconds. Finished running close to midnight, slammed some graham crackers, spent way too long trying to change in the tent as I rapidly lost all of my fingers, and fell asleep with toe warmers on my toes and three hand warmers in each mitten, hoping my fingers would eventually return and I wouldn't wake up with frostbite.

Run 3: 3.6 miles around 7:30am, getting hot again, with pretty much 0 glycogen in my body and a progressively angry calf, and nothing left to give. Even the downhill felt like a struggle, running on empty, ready to be done.

It was hard, it was oppressively hot, it was bone-chillingly cold, and it was super fun. Aside from needing to figure out the calf issue and the numb feet thing, I will definitely be back for more. The camaraderie of our multiple teams, the support, and the celebration as each team finished their final loop made it an absolute blast.

As an athlete, should you be tracking your food intake?

As with most things, the answer isn’t a straightforward yes or no; it depends.

Are you curious about what foods have the nutrients sufficient for your needs, and are able to explore this without judgment? It might be super helpful.

Are you struggling to eat enough or consistently throughout the day and need a tool to keep you accountable? It might be super helpful.

Do you have a history of disordered eating and you fear seeing numbers will cause you to feel shame and restrict? Not a great idea.

Do you know you’ll become obsessed with writing everything down, be unable to cook a meal without weighing your food, and lose enjoyment in eating? Not a great idea.

It’s worth noting that tracking doesn’t have to mean using an app and looking at calories and other numbers. Some folks might benefit from keeping a journal, jotting down approximate amounts of food, and noticing patterns and timing and how certain foods make them feel.

Plus, and very importantly, tracking is meant to be a TEMPORARY tool, not something to be relied upon for the rest of your life.

Have you tracked your food before, and what was your experience with it? Or, are you curious about it, and what are your hesitations?

One time during one of our marathon training program long runs, we brought donuts for our runners.

One runner had just completed her longest run ever, so we stood around celebrating her accomplishment. As she went to leave, we offered her a donut for the road. She immediately shook her head, telling us, “That was my longest run! I can’t just undo it.”

“You won’t,” I assured her. “A donut doesn’t undo what you just ran.”

She gave me a look as if I had just told her two plus two equals five. “…yes, it does.”

Friends:

There’s no “canceling out” when it comes to food. This isn’t your high school math class.

Dessert doesn’t undo a salad.

A donut doesn’t render your long run useless.

The benefits of exercise – heart health, muscle strength, mental health, celebrating new accomplishments – are still there no matter if you eat a donut or not.

The nutrients in particular foods won’t magically be erased or unable to be absorbed by your body if you also have a cookie.

Remember: there’s no such thing as perfection. 100% consistency sucks.

You don’t have to choose between these things. They can coexist.

That is all.

Friends:

A few days of missed training won’t ruin your progress.

You didn’t make massive fitness gains in just a few days, and you won’t go backwards in just a few days.

Consistency is key, but don’t confuse consistency with perfection. Perfection doesn’t exist; that’s not how life works.

Maybe you got sick, or an old injury flared up, or you had to travel for work. Or, you chose to prioritize being a part of a family member’s wedding instead of training one weekend, and that’s more important.

There’s no need to overcompensate and add several workouts to try to make up for it. Just get back on track and keep moving forward.

You’re still good.

That is all.

Last weekend, we ran 10 miles on a route that I once hiked when I first moved here: five miles pretty much straight up 2000 feet, and five miles back down. When I'd hiked it, one of my friends who was with us mentioned he knew someone who used to run it, and I thought that was bat sh*t crazy. Five miles straight up? Trail running in general? And yet, last weekend, I found myself in that exact position, and I can confirm: it was bat sh*t crazy.

When it comes to steady inclines, I like to think of myself as a diesel engine. If it's particularly rocky and technical, I'll walk for several steps here and there, but otherwise, I slow the pace way down and power on. This proved to be particularly difficult during the 574 feet of gain throughout mile three alone, during which my feet took turns going numb and I kept stopping to try and return feeling, during which I contemplated turning around and going back down several times, and during which I left my soul.

But I'm a bit stubborn, and I held out hope that it would get better, and it did. My feet returned, a little bit of my soul remained on the side of the mountain, and I powered on and got to the top. The five miles back down would prove to completely obliterate my quads, as would be apparent over the next two days, but that was kind of expected.

So I'm going to keep getting out there. I'll need to fuel better, because I dropped the ball on that one, and hopefully the next run up to 9000+ feet destroys me a little bit less from an altitude perspective. But it was a solid accomplishment, and proof that I can keep pushing myself to do sh*t that once baffled and/or terrified me, and that I CAN do it.

Friends:

In honor of my trainees who raced locally this weekend, it’s important to remember that it takes more than one meal to recover from a long workout, race, or effort.

Our bodies don’t work on a day-to-day schedule. It’s not just one post-race meal during which you must refuel to ensure recovery, and then your body goes back to normal after that. In fact, it’s quite the opposite - for particularly long and tough efforts, various systems in your body are much more taxed than usual, and recovery can last for several days or even weeks depending on the length of the workout.

So, if you have a long workout or race in the morning, don’t stop after slamming a carb/protein shake and then a hearty breakfast. Continue to refuel for the remainder of the day, and the next day after that, and even the next few days after that for particularly long and intense efforts such as a marathon or ultramarathon.

This will likely mean continuing to eat MORE than usual if you feel you need it, especially carbs and protein to ensure faster recovery, so you can bounce back quicker instead of feeling completely trashed and wanting to lie on the couch for the next three days.

Listen to your body – if it’s been three days since your race and you’re still feeling hungrier than usual, it’s okay to honor that!

Food isn’t just fuel, it’s recovery, too.