Fasted Trail Marathon Debrief

A lengthy description of the entire process from conception to reflection

May 11, 2023

This is going to be a long read. But it’s the intimate details of a race that no one other than myself could have created and tried to accomplish.

Below you’ll learn about my why, the how, and the lessons learned from trying to run a fasted 26.2 miles on trails climbing 3100 ft without taking any water or food along the way.

It doesn’t get more real than this

Thank you for reading Jordan’s Substack. This post is public so feel free to share it.

Why run the marathon?

The first question is WHY?

Why subject yourself to this type of challenge.

A trail marathon,ok but why no water and no food?

The answer is deep and gives you a window into how I live out my athletic philosophy.

A)Validation of Punk Rock training

I preach an alternative way to find consistency in physical exercise.

I don’t think you need to set foot in a gym. I don’t think you need a program made by a trainer. I believe your curiosity, creativity, and love are the most powerful elements in finding elusive consistency. Without love you won’t willingly go through struggle.

I’ve trained myself on my own terms using my own style for the past 10 years.

I don’t go to the gym. Instead I’ve focused my training on increasing my longevity and performance in the physical activities that I love. Those are trail running and golf.

I fell IN LOVE with trail running the first time I did it. The dynamic motion, the physical challenge, the meditative environment, the serenity of nature, had me hooked instantly.

I began training my core and overall strength to get better on the trails. I bought equipment that looked like fun and was aimed towards those areas.

I picked up some odd equipment: weighted jump ropes, steel club bells, steel maces. I did lots of bodyweight exercises as well. I didn’t have a plan I just created my own rhythm of training.

It worked. My trail times went down and I was capable of going longer distances. I didn’t get injured and slowly saw impressive changes in my physique.

The fasted trail run is a testament to my punk rock training that sees me do unusual things to gain unusual results in my body. I wanted a challenge that reflected how I’ve trained.

B)Twitter Savages

A community to hold you accountable and push you towards achievements you didn’t think possible. This is a huge factor in pushing you our of your comfort zone.

I’ve slowly surrounded myself with an incredible community on Twitter. I wrote this thread in appreciation. Read the whole thing HERE

I wasn’t motivated to do something to ‘impress’ people on social media. It’s more about sharing the struggle and realizing dreams that most people are too scared to even mention.

C)Primal Man and the Persistence Hunt

I study sports history and philosophy. I havea PhD and taught university students as a prof for 8 years. One of the things I’ve learned is the body evolved from running and to run. It’s our history of survival as a species.

Primal man ran miles and miles on the open savannahs of Africa for literal survival. We are not strong enough or fast enough to take out large prey needed to feed a whole tribe. Instead, we evolved to run long distances fairly easily to keep our prey’s heart rate up and eventually overwhelm them into cardiac arrest.

I often think of this when I’m out on trail. This challenge helps connect me back to primal man. I imagine that somewhere back in history a primal hunter ran 26.2 miles without water and that was the difference between survival of his tribe and their extinction.

D)The course

I have a special connection to the place where I ran this marathon. It’s an Ontario Provincial park called Mono Cliffs. It’s dramatic place with bold cliff edges, a never ending series of winding up and down hills, but all perfectly spaced to give you a wonderful terrain. You can get a good sense of it in this photo with me and my two kids last fall looking at the changing leaves. It’s my favourtie place to run. But it holds more significance than just that.

During the Covid pandemic people in Ontario, and Canada generally, lost their minds. We suffered from some of the most severe and long lasting lockdowns and were then subjected to some of the most discriminatory vaccine mandates in the world. Things got so silly that they closed this provincial park, not wanting people to ‘congregate’ in the outdoors.

I NEVER stopped coming to this park. It was part of my defiance against the inhumane Covid regulations and policies. I ran past the ‘park is closed’ sign flipping it the bird and imagining myself needing to run from an imagined park ‘gestapo.’

The park also has one of the coolest look out spots. It’s only 500m above sea level but from this particular vantage you can see almost 60 miles down to Lake Ontario and the Toronto skyline. Toronto is the provincial capital, the place where almost all the covid regulations came from. It’s where I’m standing in the above photo.

Whether it was 2020/2021 and the lockdowns or 2021/2022 and the vaccine mandates I used this park as a place of spiritual resistance. I would come to this lookout and SCREAM down to the tyrants in Toronto “You are going to lose, we are going to win, you cannot stop team humanity and love, you will lose.” Sounds silly but this was something I needed every single week. This park is special.

The course I picked is also not easy. A marathon distance is tough. I purposefully added over 3000 ft of elevation and a couple of drastic elevation gains. There is one part that is a sheer cliff edge that you must ascend 130feet at 45degree grade using narrow and steep switchbacks. I run up this in about 2 minutes normally. It’s a challenging terrain with lots of demanding challenges. It’s a difficult course on the best of days.

Thank you for reading Jordan’s Substack. This post is public so feel free to share it.

How did I prepare?

The fun part of this run was the total lack of preparation. I didn’t want to make it a special occurrence, but more like an ordinary long run that I do every week.

I didn’t set up a specific training regimen. I simply applied my punk rock attitude.

I originally intended to run this in fall 2022 but I got injured. So I’ll explain my punk rock approach both for the fall 2022 and for spring 2023.

A)Fall 2022

I decided in the early summer on this challenge. I knew that I had to wait until the fall for temperatures to cool down. If you want to tackle a dehydration challenge, don’t do it in the summer heat!

I had a goal of pushing a few extra miles every few weeks, getting comfortable and then pushing further. I did this from 13.5 to 16 to 18 to 19 miles over a span of two months. I was feeling great and was hoping to complete the challenge in late October.

Then I got a sewing needle in my foot, stabbed from my own carpet. I kept running on it, not knowing what the pain in my foot was, for the next 5 weeks but only managed 60 miles total.

I needed surgery to get it out on Dec 1 and then it was winter running season.

So I knew this goal was getting pushed till the spring

B)Spring 2023

I used the winter as my training season. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to run lots of miles if I wanted to take onthe marathon in early spring. The snow thaws in early april and it generally takes a few weeks for the final bits of ice and mud to finally leave the trails.

I knew that I had gotten to mile 19 in good shape training in the fall so I decided to forge my mind. I ran hundreds of miles over ince and through feet of snow over 3 brutal months. MY mind was bulletproof. I recorded videos to my future self saying how running through 2 feet of snow in a blizzard for 2 hours was worse than anything I’d face in the trail marathon.

Once the trails thawed I tried to get quickly back up to pace and distance but didn’t have as much time as I wanted. I signed up for a 50km race on June 3 in the US and I didn’t want to run that race without accomplishing my trail marathon first. This solidified the date in early May so I could recover in time for the next big race a few weeks later.

The final element of preparation was making emergency plans. Running with extreme dehydration is no joke and I wanted to be sure I wasn’t putting my body into unreasonallbe danger.

One of my best friends Dylan Spina is a nutrition expert and endurance athlete. I called him when I decided on this challenge, explained what I wanted to do, and asked about the realistic risks I was taking on.

He assured me that I could do it but that someone needed to be with me or very close in case something terrible happened. He volunteered to help me out and became my official pacer for the final 10 miles of the race. I knew that he would carry the emergency supplies and be able to help me if things went really wrong.

Other than that, it was just like anyother weekend long run!

What was the morning like?

The morning was great. I felt at peace and prepared. I was ready. I did the same things I normally do before a long run.

I was overcome with strong emotion at one point after praying on gratitude and love. I began crying because I was honoured to be able to go after something on my own terms, have a body capable of performing, and to have support from so many people.

My drive to the park was excellent, a beautiful sunrise vista to contemplate as I got closer and closer.

I began to notice how amped up and energized I was so I began self talk. “Harness adrenaline, harness emotion, not get ahead of yourself, keep composure.” I feed off energy and knew that this would be a big challenge. Little did I know how right I was. But once I started running I couldn’t keep that energy under control.

I got off at 6:45am and was ready for whatever the journey laid bare ahead.

How did the run go?

The run was not a success at all based on my stated goals. I was hoping to run 26.2 miles with over 3000ft in elevation in under 4:30:00 while in a fasted state taking no water and eating no food along the way.

I did not run 26.2 miles.

I did not come close to 4:30:00.

I broke down at 23.5 miles after 5:22:00 and drank a special bottle of water mixed with carbs and sodium.

We walked out of the forest after just over 25miles after almost 6 hours in the forest.

But hey, I did manage to climb 3100ft so there’s that!

I want to break down the flow of the run first and then what happened to me that caused such a disastrous turn of events. It’s the tale of two halves. The first triumphant but impatient and foreshadowing an impending disaster. The second an utter collapse of body that taught me much about the power of mind and spirit.

The run started out great. I was in a good mind and found good legs and pace early. Feeling strong and coursing with energy from almost a year of anticipation for this challenge I hoped to keep composure and find restraint but as I continued to run I lost sight of this.

I don’t look at my watch until almost 6 miles into the run to check my time or pace, but when I do at my familiar spot I know my pace is good. “Under 57 minutes to the lookout, I’m doing great!” I think to myself. It’s a perfect day and I’m on cloud 9 and slowly but surely my heart rate creeps up and up. “You’re fine at this pace, lay down a fast first half and then you’ll have more than enough time to hit your goal” so I keep pushing.

This is where things start going wrong. Not in my body but in my mind.

I’m not focusing on the right thing. The data, the stats, the outcome. They all weigh heavily in my mind. I know that I need to look at this but I’m going about it the wrong way.

I should be using it to inform my flow and practice restraint. Aim for the slower but surer number and if you’re a bit slower so be it. The goal is to finish, not to finish fastest.

I’ve lost a bit of perspective because the allure of the race and challenge tempt me into foolish thinking.

When you compete with yourself it’s almost impossible to catch this in real time, especially if you’re a competitor at heart, but it becomes crystal clear upon sober reflection.

I make it to the next big challenging spot, a sheer cliff face ascent with steep switch backs. Darting quickly up and finding my pace again I keep my mind fixed on the numbers. “If I can get to the turn around by this time then I’ll have a chance to make it back down the hill around 1:45:00” I get close enough to that number that I’m satisfied. “Now I’ve got a chance to go sub 2:05:00 on the half, let’s get it done!” It’s ON!

I hit that mark and feel on FIRE. I record a quick video for Twitter and spend the next 5 minutes trying to upload it. You want an example of how the body uses energy faster than you’d like if you’re not conscious of it? I ran the fastest mile of the day struggling with the upload.

I also called Dylan and told him I was faster than anticipated and would need to meet him in 20 minutes, not the 30 he’d been expecting. This was mile 14 and I was feeling great.

Then I had to climb another hill at mile 15 and things turned. I struggled to keep pace and felt my energy levels dropping fast. By the time I met Dylan at mile 16 I was in rough shape. I had no pace left and was struggling to hit 11 minute miles.

I started to walk up slight inclines but the next few miles didn’t give me the recovery that I needed. Things just got worse. I knew it was bad when I was purposefully slowing myself down but feeling worse and worse the farther I went.

Mile 19 everything fell apart.

You might think my muscles were too sore. That was true. My calf muscles began seizing up and I could barely lift them without intense pain. But that didn’t stop me.

It wasn’t blisters or chafing sores, which become unbearable with every compounding step. But that didn’t stop me either. Those types of pain I can push through.

What happened to me was something I wasn’t capable of ‘gutting’ out with mental toughness alone. I succumbed to extreme dehydration.

Here’s the thing about this particular physical challenge; it’s a compounding nightmare. Each mile gets exponentially harder because you are pushing deeper with your body while also getting more and more stripped of energy. Without the abilty to add in water or food my body broke down much faster as time wore on.

This psychology played heavily on me as I began to feel the full effects of dehydration.

I was nauseous. Oh my goodness was I ever sick. Every single step made it feel worse and worse. I wasn’t dizzy or lightheaded, just sick as a dog. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball. But that wasn’t what I needed to do.

I endeavoured to walk out of that forest and finish the 26.2 miles. I couldn’t run anymore but I felt fine to try walking out. But as I hit mile 20 I knew things weren’t getting better. I had to stop more, I began crouching and keeling over.

Dylan kept on me with great words of motivation and encouragement. I kept getting up to my feet and moving one foot in front of the other. But as time wore on things get progressively worse.

By mile 22 I was in big trouble. I was so sick that I ended up dry heaving for minutes off to the side of the forest.

To give you a sense of the psychology of all this, when I threw up I felt great in my stomach but was upset because of all the sweat that came out of my body to purge. I felt good but knew that loss of water would only hurt me down the line.

This is what it’s like to battle against a body you know is breaking down and you can’t do anything to help bring it back.

Mile 22 took 45 minutes. I’ll repeat 45 minutes! After that I felt good enough to try and start running again. We ran for maybe ½ a mile until I needed to stop again and start walking. Dylan was doing his best to motivate “We’re 90% done, you’ve got just 3 miles left, that’s 5k!” He was right but the challenge finally caught up to me.

I started Mile 24 but it was apparent I wasn’t going to make it far. We were now in high noon and the hot sun was beating down on me. I was sweating and shivering at the same time.

Mile 24 was looking a lot like Mile 22. I was on 41 minute mile pace.

So I did the math, 3 more miles at 45 minutes EACH would take me over 7 hours without water. That’s a bad equation.

So at 5:22:00 I pulled the plug and took the emergency drink Dylan prepared for me with carbs and sodium.

Thank you for reading Jordan’s Substack. This post is public so feel free to share it.

Immediate thoughts afterwards

When I drank that liquid I didn’t feel loss. I didn’t feel failure. I was just so happy to have a drink of anything! I didn’t think that I’d let myself or anyone else down (except maybe Dylan because he barely even saw me run at all!)

I was completely content in my experience and what I accomplished.

When I say losing isn’t a failure this is what I mean. If you take lessons and grow from a loss than it’s a victory. I got what I needed in terms of experience. I wanted to take myself to the deep waters and push past a physical barrier I thought would be the end.

If I was on my own, Mile 19 would have been the end. Dylan kept me going for a gruelling 4.5 miles that took almost 2 hours to complete.

Not many people could look at extreme dehydration and laugh but there were times where I smiled and we make jokes at my expense.

I felt my spirit break many times. I wanted to curl up into a ball and make existence go away. I fell down many times but still managed to get back up and start making forward progress.

Dylan and I walked out of the forest as my body began to recover. We talked about what a normal fuelling protocol looks like and what I didn’t put into my body. Imagine this, I was lacking approximately 4.5 Litres of Water, 400 grams of carbs, and 2500 milligrams of sodium. Put into perspective, my 23.5 miles were an amazing accomplishment and testament to my mental toughness and spiritual resiliency.

I started to realize some of the mistakes I made.

I should have walked earlier.

I shouldn’t have tried to run again after mile 22.

I should have focused on the correct pace, not the fastest one I could manage.

I wondered if I was getting sick and if the illness played a part in my nausea.

I wasn’t looking for excuses, I wanted lessons so that I can come back and defeat the challenge next time.

I was satisfied but knew I’d be back to finish the task at some later date.

Reflection and Lessons

There are 3 main lessons I learned from this whole idea

Humility is best experienced in the body

The mind makes excuses and rationalizes things away. The spirit shrinks when it’s not capable. It’s the body that teaches us humility through naked honesty.
Lift the weight or fail. Run faster than your opponent or lose. Finish 26.2 fasted trail miles or don’t.
If we aren’t humble we gain hubris. That’s arrogance and overconfidence.
This makes us blind to weaknesses and ultimately sabotages our progress. We need to be reminded of our limitations. This ensures our heads don’t get too big but also keeps us hungry to make improvements.
Because I failed I now have the lessons I need to come back and succeed. And because I tasted defeat and learned from it I’m appreciative of the chance to go back and try again.

Mental Toughness can’t get you through everything

I thought miles of snow running would be enough to get me through any kind of physical pain in endurance.
But the ‘wall’ is real and when you hit it there’s nothing you can do to get out of it. No amount of self talk, motivational speeches, or downright challenges to character can muster the energy when you’re extremely dehydrated.
This is what allows you to ‘lose’ and win at the same time. It wasn’t the number that mattered to me, but the experience of going to the deep waters.
Knowing that I pushed beyond was enough. I didn’t need to get those final 3 miles. And not because I wasn’t mentally tough enough.
But because I was mentally strong enough to realize that I wouln’t make it no matter how hard I made my mind. That’s TRUE mental grit.

Breaking the spirit voluntarily isn’t the same as having it broken by others

This is the biggest lesson I learned. I had my spirit crushed by the outside world in the fall of 2021 when vaccine mandates came down hard.
I almost lost my job, was banned from mostly all public venues, friends disowned me and kicked me instead of helping me, my family decided I was unsafe to be around and I was disinvited from family functions.
I was crushed and didn’t find anything positive through it. Because it wasn’t my choice and being foisted upon me, the suffering I endured broke me instead of making me stronger in the moment.
But when you CHOOSE suffering it makes all the difference. I wanted to break my spirit to see if I could pick up the pieces myself. And that intention made all the difference in learning the deep lesson about myself that I wanted.
This is why sports and physical exercise are so crucial to your personal development. In order to grow we must become uncomfortable.
We must explore the unknown. We must face risk. We must struggle.
If you choose it yourself you come at with internal motivation. For me that’s love.
This run was a love letter back to the forests. All the suffering I felt was my own choice, no one made me do it. That meant for it to become valuable I needed to focus on the lessons of failure and pain. I could lean into them positively. And once I did I got exactly what I wanted.
Had someone forced me to run this I would have resented them and quit.
It would have no value to me and represent negative energy only.
Because my spirit needs to be strong and soar for me to be at my best.
If it’s going to be broken, I need to be able to rebuild it fast and stronger than before. The extreme physical challenge succeeded in this respect. And that’s an amazing thing to learn.

The Athletic Philosopher

Discussion about this post