My Outdoor Living Room

I’ve got quite a few races planned for this year and I’m still debating whether to do the big one in September. I did Run Every Day January last month and completed a 40-mile ultra marathon, but as soon as February came around, I felt a bit flat with nothing immediately ahead to focus my plans on – the next thing being a marathon in April. I needed something to do to continue the momentum that I’ve had gathering over the past few months, not wanting to let any opportunities pass me by. Then it suddenly hit me. I’ll do the David Goggins 4x4x48 challenge!

Firstly, David Goggins can’t really be summed up in a few lines. You need to read his book Can’t hurt me to get a grasp of how he works and what he is about. He’s an ex-US Navy SEAL, ultramarathon runner and general beast. His approach and style might not be to everybody’s taste, but he’s had one hell of a life and his mindset is unbelievable. On a side note, he has a 40% rule whereby when you think you’re finished, and ready to throw the towel in, you’re only at about 40% of your capabilities. Interesting idea and in my case I believe it to be true, though I’m not sure of the measurement. Having that thought does keep you digging deeper to get through so much.

His 4x4x48 challenge was devised a couple of years ago and the format is simple: you run 4 miles, every 4 hours for 48 hours. 48 miles in total, to be ran exactly like it says. No doubling up then having 8 hours rest, 4 miles every 4 hours, through the day and the night. Like most things when I heard about it, it planted a seed and I put it on my shortlist. That’s where it has stayed until now.

In early February, I decided I would attempt the challenge at the end of the month. Like everything I do, I planned it out, thought it through, and started to get things together. What would I need? When would I start? How would I ensure success? It is interesting to point out, I never considered not completing it. I just focused on getting through it and completing it, no matter what.

This whole challenge would be an ultramarathon distance that I know I would be able to do in one go, so why do it? Wouldn’t it be too easy?

These days, I’m perhaps more interested in the mental aspect of these things than the physical, so I was keen to see what would happen to me with the stop-start nature of the challenge, as well as the sleep deprivation and nutrition challenge that would be so different from a conventional ultra.

To prepare, I worked out I would need to eliminate boredom so I pre-planned four different 4 mile loops which I could alternate, and even run in the reverse direction if needed. I grabbed as many viable pairs of trainers that I have, all in various stages of retirement. As much variety as possible. The biggest problem was finding enough kit. I have a shorts shortage so I let that determine how many different kits I had. I reasoned that I could re-use some if necessary. It turned out I had 9 sets of kit for 12 runs, so I sorted them into separate bags that I could just grab quickly when needed. I decided for the night runs especially, I would have a routine where I would change into the kit for the next run straight after getting home and sleeping in it to minimise admin time and maximise sleep time.

Nutrition was an interesting one. Conventional ultra marathons dictate, due to time, convenience and space, that you must consume certain gels, flapjacks, fruit etc, however this one was different. I would have up to 3-and-a-half hours between most of the runs where I could prepare and eat pretty much anything I liked. I had fruit, noodles, biscuits, crisps and even chocolate, along with carbohydrate powder to add to my fluids and could eat at normal meal times too.

Sleep was always going to be a tricky one. Seasoned readers will remember my first proper blog post about a 24-hour endurance event I ran a couple of times that was roughly 10k every 4 hours. I remember that time, I found sleep very hard to get. Admittedly that was in a tent in a field in the middle of a festival-like atmosphere. With a toddler in the house and fellow inhabitants who depend on sleep, I wanted to operate as quietly as possible with minimal disturbance so I got my camping bed out and set it up in the living room. Hopefully this would be conducive to a few hours sleep at least. Luckily my house has a downstairs bathroom so I had pretty much all I needed.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how it was all going to go but I was sure that I would complete the challenge, barring any injuries or events out of my control. As the day approached I found myself looking forward to it all. Everything was set up and I couldn’t wait to get started.

Well, how did it go? The admin and nutrition side of things went fine. I even managed to get a fair bit of sleep. There were some comedy moments too. Not on a par with my Christmas effort, but humorous all the same. There was the lady of advanced years outside my town’s only nightclub having an argument with two blokes only to stop the whole fight as soon as she clocked me coming along: “Look at this bloke! He’s running! Fair play mate!” Then the fighting resumed. On the same midnight run, there was the group of teenagers walking home, unaware I was running up behind them. Suddenly one, then two, then all heard me, jumped a mile and it set off a cacophony on Gen Z terms: “Oh my days”, “Like, bro”, “He’s running to be fair” and, “He could have shanked us, one hundred percent.” Poetic stuff.

It was all good fun so far, though it could have gone horribly wrong from the word go.

I had planned to run at a sensible medium pace through the whole thing – not too quick, not too slow. Unfortunately though, I’ve recently bought a new pair of trainers and they are light, bouncy and fast. The first 6 runs, I was well over a minute a mile faster than where I should have been. By Saturday evening my legs were starting to feel heavy and I was only just over half way. I just felt really good and went with it. The trainers helped make it feel effortless. For the Saturday night/Sunday morning graveyard runs, I really slowed down. Not actually deliberately but naturally. The 4 am run was the toughest. A bit cold out, and tough getting out of bed. I kept falling back to sleep and having micro dreams that I was up and about getting ready to run. I managed to get around and got back and pretty much jumped back into bed. As if by a miracle, morning came and my three runs on Sunday came with a return to the pace I had been ticking along at the previous day. I’d in fact changed my trainers by then to a slower pair to minimise fatigue.

Eventually, 4 pm came and off I went for my last run. I’d done it. It had been enjoyable and it had pretty much gone to plan. But this wasn’t the end. It had at first confused me when I heard about this challenge that it was 4 every 4 for 48 hours but by my maths, you set out for your last run on the 44 hour mark and in my case, it was all over after 44 hours and 34 minutes. But it’s meant to be a 48 hour challenge isn’t it? So before I’d even started, I was planning to be doing one more. I was going to be doing 13 runs, not 12. The 13th would begin at 7pm so I would definitely be back within the 48 hours.

My friend made a link that I hadn’t. 48 plus 4 makes 52. That’s almost two marathons, so if I made my last run 4.4 miles, I would have completed a double marathon. Too good an opportunity to not take up, so that’s what I did. Funny thing though: I did it in a 12kgs weighted vest. And the 4.4 ended half a mile down the road from home so I just carried on until I got home. Double marathon plus a bit more. There’s that 40% thing.

It’s something I think about a lot. We do things to deadlines, targets and finish lines. Once we’re told there’s a finish line, we reach it and stop. Why? Why operate within someone else’s framework? Fair enough if you’ve got no more to give, but why not keep going? See what you’re capable of, what’s possible and where your limits are. Being defined by something or somebody else isn’t going to teach you anything about yourself. We don’t get pushed too far out of our comfort zones enough as a society on the whole I feel and that’s why a challenge is an opportunity if you’re in that space and mindset.

I’ll do the 4x4x48 again, with applied learning and probably cranked up a notch to keep nudging the edges of my comfort zone outwards. I hope you do too in whatever challenges you face in your life.

Down the years I’ve done my fair whack of races. Some have taken place in the evening, some at midday, some all bloody day and night for goodness’ sake. The vast majority however, have been early starts at the weekend. I have always assumed this is so there’s minimal disturbance to the infrastructure and population, and to guarantee maximum recovery time before the pubs close.

I don’t really suffer from pre-race nerves anymore but sometimes I get a brief moment before the start where I question what I’m doing there, and why I do any of this at all. Sometimes with this thinking comes a feeling that I can only draw similarities to a feeling I sometimes had at school when, ironically, I didn’t want to go because we had PE. It’s a kind of doubt-filled vulnerability that tries to persuade me to go back to the car and go home. Not an inner voice telling me I’m rubbish or anything like that, or a negative thread convincing me I won’t finish the race, it’s more a small part of my inner self encouraging me that being in my comfort zone would be better. More often than not, it’s when I know that what I’m about to do is going to hurt. It’s not just in this scenario that it appears. It pops up in other areas of my life too but we won’t delve into that at this moment in time.

One of the funny side effects of this feeling is seeing people milling about who aren’t taking part in the race. They’re supporting someone, or just watching, and they’re wearing a ridiculously comfortable-looking padded jacket, carrying a takeaway coffee, oozing every drop of I’m-in-my-comfort-zone-and-you’ve-got-to-run-a-half-marathon from their very pores. I’ve written at length about comfort zones and what they’re good – and not good – for, and wobbling about more comfortable than Baron Comfortable von Comforterhoffen of the Comfortable Comforters is not my style. But in that moment, with that feeling, with everything ahead of me – I feel jealous. Why don’t I give it all up and have lie-ins? Why don’t I just do one race a year? It was warm in bed. And so on and so forth.

The answer is simple and not surprising.

It’s who I am and it keeps me pushing myself. It’s vitally important. As I lurch forward in age and as, like everything else, I don’t seem to be getting any younger, I need to fight against the constant waves of comfort and keep doing what I’m doing. We all do. For me, it’s running and a few other things that make me slightly uncomfortable at times but are worth doing for the feelings they exude and the long-term benefits for only a brief few minutes of haggling with my other self. For others, it might be something completely different. For the bloke I saw standing in his front garden in his dressing gown holding a mug of tea on Sunday morning as I strode past with 2000 other half marathoners, being up and about at 9 am at the weekend might be his big victory over the chilly whisper of Lord Comfy. Who knows.

I don’t think I’ll end up regretting any of it. There’s not much in life that’s as satisfying as the feeling of achievement when you didn’t want to do it at all. Besides, mincing about holding a takeaway coffee isn’t my remit. No rant about that, I promise. That’ll be for another time, you lucky sods.