Strava
Your runs arrive automatically. No manual logging, no copying splits. The data is there when we need it.
Most plans optimize a number. I coach the runner under the number. Pace, heart rate, mileage — all downstream of one question: what is today asking of you?
The body keeps a more honest record than the watch. Learn to read it first.
A training plan is a hypothesis about a person. It is not the person.
Most of fitness is showing up on the days you don’t want to. The rest is paying attention on the days you do.
You are not behind. There is no line.
The race is a ceremony for the work. The work is the thing.
I build plans around rhythm, not around a spreadsheet. The week has a shape — hard, easy, long, still. The shape matters more than the numbers inside it.
When you are tired, we rest. When you are sharp, we push. When you are somewhere between, we listen closer. The plan bends to the runner. The runner does not break under the plan.
This takes longer than a prescription. It asks more of you than compliance. In return, you get something that a stopwatch cannot give: a relationship with your own training that outlasts any single race.
Strava syncs in the background. Splits, mileage, races — all kept, none worshipped. The app exists so we can pay less attention to the app, and more to the running.
Your runs arrive automatically. No manual logging, no copying splits. The data is there when we need it.
The week ahead, laid out simply. Intent first. Execution second. Both visible.
A searchable library of races, yours to plan around. The ceremony gets a date. The work gets its meaning.
Sign up to receive daily notes and log your training. Your first conversation with me follows shortly after.
A short note is enough to begin.
Start a conversation →