Read This Before You Register For Your Big 2026 Race

On choosing from where you are, not where you wish you were

Luck. Two times. Two weeks apart.

The first one came through mid September: Lavaredo 50k, in the Dolomites. I’d entered thinking this would be nice. A chance to return to a race that broke me mentally two years ago, but this time as a different runner. When I got the confirmation, I didn’t hesitate long. Sign me up!

The second one I’d entered as a backup. Eiger Ultra Trail, 50K in the Swiss Alps. Beautiful area, a race I’d heard great things about. I figured if Lavaredo didn’t work out, maybe Eiger would.

And then Eiger came through, too.

I stared at my calendar. June. July. Two 50Ks in the Alps, three weeks apart.

Can I actually do both? Is this sensible?

I sat with that question for two or three days. And here’s where I have to be honest with you: right now, I’m injured. I’m running maybe two and a half hours per week. The rest is on the bike. To race back-to-back 50Ks well, I know I need eight to ten hours of consistent training for months beforehand. I’m nowhere near that.

So why am I telling you this?

Because this is exactly the question I think we all need to ask ourselves before we click “register” on anything in 2026.

Yep. Not my best day in the Dolomites.

The Question Before the Registration

It’s December. Race calendars are opening up. Lotteries are running. And I know the feeling to hit register on excitement alone.

This looks amazing. I have to do this.

That feeling when you discover a race in the Swiss Alps or the Dolomites and your heart says yes. That pull is real. I felt it twice, apparently.

But here’s the thing: excitement is not a training plan.

The question isn’t what race should I sign up for? The question is: Where am I right now—and what can I sensibly change in the coming months without compromising my happiness?

That’s a different starting point. And it changes things.

Stronger for Longer

There’s a narrative in our sport. Faster, bigger, longer is always better. You ran a 50K? Next year you should do a 100K. You finished a 100K? Time for the 100-miler.

I’ve been doing this sport for nearly 10 years now. And people often assume I’ve run much further than I have. But my longest race ever? 70 kilometers. That’s it.

I’ve built up slowly. Intentionally. Not because I lack ambition, but because I want to come out of these races feeling good. Physically. Mentally. Ready to do it again.

I think the real goal isn’t longer. It’s stronger for longer. When you’ve built consistency and robustness over time, those big races become better experiences. You still suffer. That’s the point. But you suffer because you chose it. Not because you put yourself in a hole you couldn’t climb out of.

What It Actually Means

Let me get concrete for a moment.

If you want to step up from one distance to another, you probably need to train more. That’s just reality. And here’s what people forget: you cannot add something to your life without something else giving way.

So if this race goes into your calendar and it demands more hours, what are you letting go of? Time with friends? Time with family? Your evening reading habit? Your sleep?

I for myself learned this preparing for my first 70K in Mayrhofen, three years ago. I gave myself nearly a full year. I looked honestly at my week and asked: what can I actually do? I realized that to get the training in, I’d need to wake up early one or two mornings per week for longer runs. I’m not a morning person. But I made that decision clearly. Not as a reaction to panic, but as an intentional trade-off.

That clarity made all the difference. I trained consistently. I didn’t get injured chasing volume I couldn’t handle. And when race day came, I was ready.

Compare that to starting from the finish line. I want to run 100 miles. To do that, I should train 15 hours per week. Then you work backwards and realize you’re currently at 7 hours, and suddenly you’re trying to ramp up in ways your body has never experienced. That’s where injuries happen. That’s where stress creeps in. That’s where the thing you signed up for out of excitement becomes a source of dread.

Holding Races Lightly

So what about my two 50Ks?

Here’s how I’m thinking about it. Lavaredo is the priority. It’s personal, it’s a return, it’s a chance to experience that race from a completely different place mentally. Eiger is adventure. I’ll run it, but I’m not going there to race. I’m going there to experience something beautiful.

And if my body isn’t ready by May? I’ll make the call then. I’m holding both races lightly. I will always choose my longevity over my ego. Always.

That’s not giving up. That’s being honest about where I am.

This is what I mean by starting from where you are, not from where you wish you were. I didn’t plan to be injured right now. But I am. So I adjust. I don’t force a timeline that my body can’t support just because I have a race on the calendar.

The Universal Experience

Here’s what I find beautiful about our sport: pushing your limits can happen anywhere in the field.

When I talk about pushing limits, I don’t mean winning. I mean that feeling of going beyond what you thought you could do. On that day, from that starting point. Sometimes that happens mid-pack. Sometimes from the back. It doesn’t matter.

The first person to cross the finish line and the last person to cross it share something profound: Today, I set out to do something hard. And I did it.

That experience. That relief. That pride. It’s available to everyone. But only if you chose something honest. Something that stretched you from where you actually were, not from where you wished you were.

Before You Click Register

So here’s my invitation as you look at 2026.

Before you enter that lottery. Before you pay that registration fee. Take one step back.

Where are you right now? Not where you want to be. Where you are.

What can you sensibly change in the coming weeks and months? Without burning yourself out, without compromising your happiness?

And most importantly: Why this race? Why now?

If you have clear answers, go for it. Register with confidence.

But if you’re chasing a distance because it feels like the next thing you’re supposed to do, pause. There’s no rush. The mountains will still be there next year. And the year after.

Choose something that excites you and respects where you’re starting from. That’s how you build a running life that lasts.

What race are you considering for 2026, and what’s your honest “why”?