After going down a YouTube rabbit hole on heart-rate training over the holidays, beginning January 1st of this year I started only running at aerobic (a.k.a. zone 2 or MAF) pace. As of today I’ve done 100 miles at this pace. Here are my thoughts on how it’s going.
Staying in the aerobic zone means never venturing up into anaerobic pace, so the body doesn’t generate lactic acid during training (which runners know is a byproduct of muscles generating energy anaerobically, leading to the dreaded bonk).
As someone with an impulsive need to always push my running pace to the limit (and therefore injure myself all the time), having this crystal-clear limitation has been fantastic in keeping me healthy and consistent in my running. I have never enjoyed training this much. I have felt fantastic. After most runs now I feel like I could do the same run over again easily.
The one big unanswered question is: can I run a PR doing this style of training? It’s a question I can’t really answer until I fully recover my knee and get back to racing. I can say that my maximum aerobic (or MAF) pace — as measured by a MAF test (running 3mi or 5mi at MAF pace on a track) — has rapidly decreased from 11min/mi to 10 to 9 just in one month.
My plan going forward is to keep doing Zone2 running at around 15-20 miles a week for the next 2-3 months. If my knee is fully recovered by then, I want to do a 5k or 10k race to test my fitness. If I’m not happy with the results, I will start to add in some light speedwork as necessary.
[This is a delayed post I originally drafted in October 2022]
My running goal for 2022 was not a race—it was to complete a trail run: the Four Pass Loop in Colorado, the #1 ranked trail run in the world according to trailrunproject.com.
Due to knee issues, I had to reduce my grand plans from completing the whole loop to completing about 1/3 of it. It still became probably the most beautiful trail run/hike I’ve ever done in my life. I wholly recommend visiting the Maroon Bells if you can. I can definitely see why it’s #1.
The Route
The Four Pass Loop is a circular route near Aspen, CO around the Maroon Bells—two 14ers which are the most photographed mountains in Colorado. The loop is 27 miles with 7265ft of climbing. The route starts at an elevation of 9000ft and the passes reach 12500ft, so altitude is definitely a factor. This route is most commonly done as a 2-5 day backpacking trip.
Planning
A lot of my excitement surrounding this trip was the challenge of planning a long run in the backcountry—specifically because there is a lot less room for error compared to running a road or trail race.
For this run, there are no diversion points along the way. The closest support at all times would be the ranger station at the start, which would be up to 13mi and 5000ft of vert away. This is where I want to give a huge thanks to my brother Jake, who advised me on all things backcountry to help plan for this adventure. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing it without his advice!
Gear
Here’s everything I took with me:
Navigation and safety
Physical Map
Small compass
Garmin InReach
Garmin Forerunner Watch
Headlamp and spare batteries
Sunscreen
Emergency blanket
Toilet paper/poop kit + hand sanitizer
Raincoat
Phone (with GPS on CalTopo), fully charged
Water (total = 3L)
2x 500ml Hydra flasks
2L water bladder
Emergency water filter
Nuun tablets
11 hours worth of food, plus emergency rations
Clif bars
Something solid and substantial for lunch (a sandwich)
Trail mix
Knee Mishap
Two weeks before this I ran the Double Dipsea. On top of that, I made the dumb decision to do leg day the day after the race The combination of 14mi trail race + leg day messed up my knees a bit.
I want to emphasize — knowing what I know now about proper training and recovery — I should not have attempted this at all. I should not have scheduled 2 hard trail runs within 2 weeks of each other.
As I got closer to the Four Pass Loop, it became clear that it wouldn’t be smart to try to run 13 miles into the backcountry on iffy knees, so I turned it into a hike and set out to do a shorter distance.
The Hike
I started at 5:12am — exactly the beginning of “astronomical twilight.” It turns out I had no idea what astronomical twilight means, because it was still pitch black on the ground. Right as I was starting my Garmin watch, I heard some rustling to my right and saw a deer with giant antlers in the tall grass staring back at me.
(I later learned that the presence of peaceful wildlife is a positive sign, because it means there’s less of a chance that predators are nearby)
I continued on in the pitch black into the mountains—to be honest, quite scared—but it was a very character building experience. Fortunately for this scaredy cat, a mountaineer came power hiking up behind me and we hiked together until the main fork a couple miles in. He was going to attempt to summit the full mountain—I hope he made it safely.
More wildlife appeared. A fox was hurrying down the path toward me. I made some noise, the fox went around me and then continued on the path after. He seemed annoyed that I was using his path.
As the sun rose, the Maroon Bells themselves lit up in a fantastic blazing red. It was such a treat.
Along the way up to the first pass, a group of trail runners passed me on their way to run the whole loop. They invited me to join them and I wish I had been able to do so!
After I rested and started my way down the backside of Buckskin pass, a couple hikers motioned for me to look over onto the hill facing us, where there was a momma moose and her calf making their way up the mountain. After taking a quick pic, I and the hikers near me made sure to get the heck out of there asap.
I eventually got to Snowmass lake around lunchtime and ate the sandwich I brought with me. Shout out to Jour de Fête in Aspen, their food is the bomb.
On my way back, the knee pain set in, and the return hike became quite slow and painful. I knew I probably shouldn’t have embarked on such a long hike with my knee situation, but the outdoors and scenery called me out. I was glad I went, despite probably adding a few weeks to my recovery schedule.
The 2nd time at Buckskin pass, going back home.
I hobbled my way back to the start, defeated but extremely happy to experience part of the loop.
Future Plans
Huge thanks to my lovely wife Elva for accompanying me on this trip, my running friends in SF for training and motivation, and to my brother Jake for all the advice.
I think missing piece this time was planning and executing my training better. Once I go back to the fundamentals and build a really strong base, injury-free, I vow to return (maybe next year) to attempt the entire loop and cross this off my running bucket list.
Imposter syndrome—the feeling of being an unqualified outsider despite evidence to the contrary—is a double edged sword. On one hand, I can attribute a lot of my success so far to the “fake it till you make it” attitude. Silicon Valley almost requires this mentality.
However, it wasn’t until enough years had passed that I was able to reflect on the arc of my career so far that I realize imposter syndrome has had quite a negative overall effect. Here are some ways it has affected me:
Constantly feeling like I need to prove myself over and over again on the most basic tasks.
Being super hard on myself every time a coworker has a good idea (i.e. ”why didn’t I think of that? I must be a terrible engineer”).
Getting stuck on projects because I interpret even the slightest derailment as a personal failure and a message that I’m too dumb to be doing this.
Seeking out name brand companies to shield myself from any possible doubt about my skills.
Not taking on career growth opportunities until I feel very confident I will succeed.
Impostor Syndrome is Compounding
The single biggest realization I had regarding imposter syndrome is that although single manifestations themselves are harmful, if left unchecked they can compound to become very detrimental.
If a career is like a tree with a bunch of decision points, if at one branch I don’t feel worthy and set my growth expectations lower, it changes my trajectory a bit.
Over the course of several years, I have observed this plays out as a big visible difference in people who continuously advocate for themselves and overcome imposter syndrome versus those who do not.
I think identifying this phenomenon is a good first step. Given I’m currently in a turning point in my career, escaping this negative feedback cycle is currently one of the major things I’m working on.
Since last update I went on a couple adventures: one to Maine for my 10th college reunion, and one with my family to Tahoe to visit my brother.
Effective ways to reset hedonic adaptation
Sometimes I fall into a YouTube hole and emerge 4 hours later, angry at myself for wasting so much time. I’m sure I’m not alone here. The hedonic treadmill is something I definitely struggle with frequently. Dopamine fasting is a thing I see people talk about, but does it really work long-term?
Dopamine Nation is the best resource I’ve read about the neuroscience behind this. In it, Dr. Anna Lembke explains that pleasure and pain exist on the same continuum:
Science teaches us that every pleasure exacts a price, and the pain that follows is longer lasting and more intense than the pleasure that gave rise to it. With prolonged and repeated exposure to pleasurable stimuli, our capacity to tolerate pain decreases, and our threshold for experiencing pleasure increases.
Getting straight to the point — “what is the best way to fix my dopamine level?” — the book offers two ways that stood out:
#1: Pain: this could be taking cold showers or doing Spartan Races. One example from the book is a friend group that organizes ice bath parties.
#2: Radical honesty: I was quite surprised by this. Lying releases dopamine. This habit can snowball until we lie just for the sake of lying. Telling the truth to others—and telling a truthful story to yourself—is a very effective counter against this slippery dopamine slope.
Buffett’s advice is different: he tells the man to make a list of the top twenty-five things he wants out of life and then to arrange them in order, from the most important to the least. The top five, Buffett says, should be those around which he organizes his time. But contrary to what the pilot might have been expecting to hear, the remaining twenty, Buffett allegedly explains, aren’t the second-tier priorities to which he should turn when he gets the chance. Far from it. In fact, they’re the ones he should actively avoid at all costs—because they’re the ambitions insufficiently important to him to form the core of his life yet seductive enough to distract him from the ones that matter most.
Inspiration does not come like a bolt, nor is it kinetic, energetic striving, but it comes into us slowly and quietly and all the time, though we must regularly and every day give it a little chance to start flowing, prime it with a little solitude and idleness.
—Brenda Ueland, journalist, editor, and writer (1891-1985)
Last week was HOT in SF. 🔥 Finally I could pretend the city had transformed into my dream California super city combo of SF architecture and public transit plus LA sunny weather and beaches.
I was finally able to share a video from a recent Waymo ride I took with Elva. Hoping to share more videos and real in-person rides with you in the future!
Reflecting on running injury recovery
At the beginning of 2022 I vowed to do tons of rad trail runs and races this year. I ramped up my mileage from 0 to ~25mi/week… then quickly developed an overtraining injury (posterior tibial tendonitis).
After a couple months of physical therapy (shout out to Soma Sport and Physio), I’m back at it. The most important things I learned were:
Rest isn’t always #1. Completely stopping running for 2 months would definitely help reduce inflammation, but I’d return to running with weaker muscles, which would further increase risk of injury. Better to keep running at a much lower intensity.
Speed isn’t as important as just being able to get out there. I’m usually of the school of thought that if I don’t feel completely wrecked and wishing for the sweet release of death by the end of a race, I didn’t run hard enough. But deep down I’d much rather be able to run anything at all than to chase PRs and be ultra competitive. Whenever I’m injured, I’m reminded how incredibly lucky anyone is to just be able to run 1 mile.
I’m always composing my resignation letter in my head, that’s what I do in the shower. It’s always like, Dear Larry and Sergey, I am leaving because this place is perfect. You guys have done such a good job of insulating us from anything that would introduce any worry into our lives that I literally cannot relate to a normal human being. Because I don’t pay any of my bills, because I don’t have to think about my rent. If it doubles, I don’t care. Doesn’t matter. You have completely turned me into a person who is incapable of doing his job.
Inspiration does not come like a bolt, nor is it kinetic, energetic striving, but it comes into us slowly and quietly and all the time, though we must regularly and every day give it a little chance to start flowing, prime it with a little solitude and idleness.
—Brenda Ueland, journalist, editor, and writer (1891-1985)
