The 4-Hour Body_ An Uncommon Guide to Ra - Timothy Ferriss [155]
In 2001, he was introduced to the controversial Dr. Nicolas Romanov, a figure we’ll revisit, which marked a turning point. Brian began to question the logic of high-volume, low-speed aerobic training and started to commit sacrilege in the world of long-form punishment. He decided to focus on less.
In June of 2006, he ran the Western States 100-mile endurance race, which has more than 17,000 vertical feet of climbing and more than 22,000 feet of downhill knee destruction. He finished in just over 26 hours. Compared to the mere 11-hour Ironman, he’d reduced his training from 30 hours per week to 10.5 hours per week.
But the 10.5 hours per week was still too much, and his body was still suffering, as was his marriage.
On September 15, 2007, after further refinement, Brian completed what is considered the fourth-toughest 100-mile run in the world, the Angeles Crest 100.14 This time, he averaged just 6.5 hours of training per week, which included strength training (almost three hours), CrossFit, intervals, and pace work. His body had learned to become aerobic at the higher paces, even during speed training. Just before adopting this training mix, his one-rep max in the squat was 250 pounds.15 Three weeks before the race, he could easily squat 240 pounds for six consecutive reps, and he hadn’t put on a single pound of body weight.
Now he was faster at every distance. It didn’t matter if it was 100 meters or 100 miles.
So You Want to be a Runner?
Let’s Try 400-Meter Repeats
Back in Louisville, Colorado, 14 hours after my poor decision to drink wine, I was experiencing a unique clarity of thought.
It was the clarity of thought that only comes from repeatedly feeling as though your lungs and head are going to explode.
First, I ran 400 meters × 4, at 95% max effort, with 1:30 of rest in between.
Then I ran (or attempted to run) 100-meter repeats for ten minutes straight with ten seconds of rest in between runs.
I didn’t stand a chance in either trial.
Halfway through my second 400-meter repeat, I was breathing entirely through my mouth like an asthmatic German Shepherd, and after the last I had to crouch down like Gollum and hold my knees to keep from vomiting.
For the 100-meter repeats, I had to stop after six and hold onto a picnic table to keep from falling over, and though I jumped back into the drill, I had to skip four repeats out of a total of about 20.
There were a few things I realized at that moment.
Namely, to run anything approaching an ultramarathon without doing myself permanent damage, I would need to ace a trifecta of preparation, biomechanics, and training. The training would also need to redefine discomfort.
Thankfully, according to Brian, it would be brief.
Preparation: The Undercarriage
4 WEEKS
It isn’t your lungs or your slow-twitch muscle fibers that will fail first in long-distance running. It’s your suspension.
To sustain the repeated impact of a mere 5K, between 2,000 and 2,500 foot strikes for most runners, you need to ensure that your ligaments and tendons are both thick and elastic enough for the abuse; and you need to ensure that the proper muscle groups are firing in the right sequence.
I suffered a minor hamstring pull after the 400s (same leg as at DeFranco’s) and experienced excruciating lower back pain for the next three hours, as did several other aspiring long-distance runners.
Why?
My hip flexors and quads were too tight, common among desk workers, which made me bend forward at the hip during sprints. This then forced my hamstrings to attempt the job of the much larger and stronger glutes, which were inhibited. There you have it—overloading and a hamstring pull. The tight hip flexors pulled on the lower lumbar spine, which explained the sore back.
I also had pain on the inside of both knees after practicing foot pulls (coming shortly), which appeared to be caused by two problems: tight quads and weak vastus medialis obliques (VMO), the teardrop-shaped