Running in Your 40s and 50s: What I Learned the Hard Way

I've been running since my thirties. But if I'm honest, it wasn't until my fifties that I truly figured out how to do it properly.

This is that story — and the lessons I think every runner in their 40s and 50s needs to hear.

In my forties I was doing everything. Marathons. Ironman training. Swimming. Cross training. I was putting in the hours and I was consistent enough — but I wasn't breaking personal bests. I wasn't hitting the times I knew I was capable of.

Looking back, I was training hard but not training smart. I had the engine. I didn't yet have the blueprint.

The one thing I did right in my forties — and I'd tell every master runner this — was strength training. I was doing it alongside my running and triathlon training, and I genuinely believe it's the reason I arrived in my fifties in good enough shape to do what came next. If you're in your forties and you're not strength training, start now. Not next month. Now.

When I hit my fifties I made a decision. I was going to stop being a decent runner and start being the best runner I could possibly be at this age. I went all in on marathons. I wanted to go sub three hours.

I didn't get there — yet. But what I achieved instead told me everything I needed to know about what's possible in your fifties.

My best marathon was 3:08 at London. I'd run a bang on target time at a tune-up race six weeks before, but picked up a minor illness in the lead-up and it cost me a few minutes on race day. That's running. But 3:08 at my age, on that course, on that day — I'll take it.

The same training block delivered the numbers below.

I'll say this once and I'll say it loudly: consistency is the single most important thing. Not the perfect session. Not the best shoe. Not the magic nutrition product. Consistency.

Week after week, month after month, hitting your sessions and building the plan — that's what delivers results. One great week surrounded by three average ones doesn't move the needle. Twelve consecutive solid weeks does.

Strength training — twice a week. Push sessions and pull sessions, working both legs and upper body. This wasn't just for injury prevention — it was a fundamental part of my running performance. Stronger legs hold form later in a marathon. Stronger arms keep your posture when you're tired. Don't skip it.

Track sessions — timed to the second. Everything was timed. Every rep, every split, every recovery. I wasn't just running fast — I was hitting specific times that corresponded to my target marathon pace. If you can't hit your goal pace in a track session when you're fresh, you won't hit it at mile 22.

Tempo sessions — goal pace practice. Tempo runs weren't just about feeling comfortably hard. They were about rehearsing the pace I needed to race at. Every tempo session had a purpose and a target.

The Saturday parkrun push. Every Saturday I'd run to parkrun, race it hard, and treat it as a quality session. That's the push — getting the legs working at pace.

The Sunday long run — on tired legs. Then on Sunday, straight after that Saturday effort, I'd do my long run. Tired legs. That's intentional. Running long on tired legs teaches your body to hold pace when it's fatigued — exactly what you need in the back half of a marathon. Within those long runs I'd split the session: half at marathon pace, half at easier effort. That combination builds both endurance and race-specific fitness.

Peak weeks — hitting every split. As I moved into the peak weeks of training, everything had to land. Track splits, tempo times, marathon pace miles within the long run. If I was consistently hitting those numbers, I knew race day fitness was there.

I can't stress this enough. Your race day nutrition strategy should not be something you figure out on race day. By the time I got to London, I had practised my nutrition plan on every long run. I knew exactly what I was taking, when I was taking it, and how my body would respond.

Get this wrong and it doesn't matter how fit you are. Practice your nutrition. Every long run is a rehearsal.

If you're in your forties or fifties and you think your best running is behind you — I'm here to tell you it might not be. Sub 19 parkrun. Sub 38 10K. 1:23 half. 3:08 marathon. All of those came in my fifties. All of them came from a plan, from consistency, and from finally training the way my body needed me to train.

The question isn't whether it's possible. The question is whether you're willing to be consistent and patient enough to let it happen.