How I Plan a Long Run Adventure
Long runs are where everything comes together—the fitness, the mindset, the fuelling and the fun. I don’t just lace up and hope for the best; I plan them like mini adventures, a story in stages.
Route as a story
I break the run into distinct stages, each with its own terrain, vibe or challenge. One might be a wooded climb, another a wide-open ridge, and then a fast descent to wrap it up.
It keeps my head in the game and gives me moments to look forward to. Another aspect of this is research: I check local geology, flora, history—anything that adds flavour to the story. The run becomes a narrative, curious and engaging.
You often hear trail runners talk about the “why”. If you have a strong narrative, you have a choice of whys, and you can tie them together with visualisation.
Visualisation
For trail runners, there are so many moments worth imagining: a shady valley, a gnarly climb, a flowing descent.
Before the run, I play the stages in my head like a film. I imagine the sights, the sounds, even the internal playlist (techno or birdsong, depending on the day).
During the run, I affirm those visuals in real time and mentally step into the next chapter.
Fuelling
I fuel early and often. Usually after 5–10k, then every 5k or after big descents. My motto: don’t wait to bonk. It’s also an excuse to eat snacks in the forest, and who doesn’t want that?
Before I head out, I eat oatmeal with dried fruit and honey—about 100 grams of carbs, timed 40 minutes before go-time.
On the run, I prefer solid food: energy bars (especially caramel and sea salt), 50 grams of carbs each. One per hour, or nibbled as needed.
I also carry grape sugar tablets for quick boosts. It’s all pre-packed and portioned. Some people prefer gels—test what works for you and stick with it.
Mental tricks
If I’ve hit halfway, I’m on the home stretch. Doesn’t matter if it’s 12 out of 24k—I’m heading home. Little mind hacks like this go a long way.
Narrative and visualisation are tricks in themselves. Add a mantra like “Remember your training, you can do this.”
Or focus on trail details—ferns, rocks, birdsong. They keep your mind present and sharp.
Fuel as reward. I don’t just fuel, I earn it: my favourite energy bars are saved for after the tough hills.
The biggest mental lever? Surrender to the trail. Flow comes from connection with the terrain around you. When you’re in tune with it, the kilometres take care of themselves.
Gear and prep
I prep my gear like a day trip: lay it all out on the floor, so nothing’s forgotten. I start the day with a flow rope session outside, rain or shine. It helps me tune into the weather and get loose.
I go modular: buffs, gloves, arm sleeves. All stashable on the go. Polyester all the way (including undies). Coconut oil for lube—cheap, effective, edible.
I tape what needs taping, and protect what needs protecting. Enough said.
I run in Inov-8 TrailFlys or TrailTalons. Best durability I’ve found—over 900 kilometres and still going. My vest is the Inov-8 Ultrapac Pro 8. Fits like a dream. Zero bounce.
The mood of the run
Some days, I want flow. Other days, I want headlamp hill repeats at sunrise. The long run is a mood, and I plan around it.
The mood matters as much as the terrain. Some days your body wants vert, others it wants smooth and cruisy. The trail can shift your mood, but often your mood chooses the trail.
No such thing as a bad trip—just the mindset you brought to it.
Flow, don’t force
Long runs aren’t the place to play hero. I pace in zone 2—steady, cruisy, sustainable. I’m chasing flow, not speed.
The first 5k is a warm-up, always slower than I think I need. Then I settle into that groove and let the trail do the talking.
I walk the climbs and enjoy the descents. Pacing is mental discipline. If I can chat, daydream or birdwatch, I’m in the right zone.
More than distance
Planning a long run isn’t just about stacking distance and vert—it’s about crafting an experience.
It’s a little journey, a little ritual, and a little rebellion against monotony. When you treat it as an adventure, everything changes.
You’re no longer just running—you’re exploring, storytelling, fuelling with intention and moving with the landscape.
