Season Planning Without Soul
How to plan a season when no race lights you up
There are races you pick.
And there are races that pick you.
The second kind? They mess you up. In the best possible way.
Last week I stood at Tor des Géants. Not as a runner, but in the trenches of support for our friend Juliane. Her absolute A-race. Her dragon. Her dream. Months of sacrifice, sweat, and sleepless nights. All for this one week in the Aosta Valley.
And it hit me again: you don’t find these kinds of races. They find you.
Or better: they call you.
That Thought You Can’t Kill
It starts small. A photo. An elevation profile. A shaky race video at 3 a.m. A line in some stranger’s race report. And suddenly the thought is there and you can’t shake it.
At first you laugh it off: Too long. Too steep. Too brutal. Not me. But the thought grows teeth. It chews on you. Until it’s no longer fantasy but a plan.
Then you sign up in a spontaneous burst of exuberance. Just one click (and a payment that usually hurts). And that’s the point of no return.
Everything Flips
Once you’ve signed up, your life tilts. Training sharpens. Plans are being forged. Weaknesses and frailties glare at you like neon signs. You dodge every cough, every handshake. Gear gets tested, replaced, re-tested. Suddenly there’s only one thing that matters.
You are stripped down, streamlined, mission mode. And it feels fucking great.
Until it’s over. The finish line. The medal. The final hug by your loved ones.
And then: emptiness. Like someone yanked the plug.
The Desert After the Storm
Here’s the thing: these “soul races” are rare. You can’t manufacture them. You can’t force yourself into that kind of obsession just because the calendar says it’s time to plan next season.
Sometimes, no race calls your name. Quite often, actually.
Building a Season Without Fire
Then what? Well, you always go rational.
Pick a course that fits your current shape
Chase a PR
Grab a qualifier or collect some lottery tickets
Repeat the annual tradition
Or: just follow your friends into their big adventures
Yes, it works. It gives structure. It fills the year. But it’s not fire. It’s not obsession.
It’s not the race that keeps you up at night. Not a soul race.
The Core Question
So you sit down and ask: Running — what do I actually want from you?
Do I need a start line to feel alive? Or is the run itself enough?
For me, races are oxygen. They keep me honest. They give me edges. They let me look deep. But right now? No race is calling. Oh, and I’m injured. A real buzzkill.
Maybe nothing will call. Maybe that’s fine. And still: I know I’ll toe a start line next year. Maybe two. Maybe four.
Because that’s who I am.
How About You?
Now I’m asking you:
How do you pick your races?
Do you wait for the lightning strike?
Or do you go all tactical: fit, PR, qualifier, tradition?
Because either way, you’re investing hundreds of hours. Hours you could spend on literally anything else. So why this? Why races?
Everything not Running
I usually find it hard to say goodbye to summer and welcome autumn. In the past, I would often argue with Lisa about whether it was still ‘late summer’ or already ‘early autumn’. This year, however, that’s not the case.
This is probably because I experienced so many exciting things this summer and really made the most of it. But it’s also because autumn is exceptionally beautiful in our new home of Garmisch-Partenkirchen. When walls of fog collide with the mountains and a few rays of sunshine cut through the white mist, it’s nothing short of spectacular. Even rainy days have a strangely soothing romanticism about them.
I don’t feel melancholy or wistful at this time of year, but I do become calmer. And that’s a good feeling.
On Repeat
At the Gates have made it back into my regular playlist because their singer, Tomas ‘Tomba’ Lindberg, recently passed away from cancer at a far too young age. Despite this tragic loss, his musical legacy will live on; he played in dozens of bands and projects.
In particular, At the Gates were one of the most influential metal bands ever. Their album Slaughter of the Soul became the blueprint for the subgenre ‘melodic death metal’, with the not insignificant addition of ‘made in Sweden’.
The album opener, “Blinded by Fear”, contains everything that defines this thrilling genre. The song pushes relentlessly forward, leaving no time to catch your breath. It is hard-hitting yet super melodic. Few bands since At the Gates have achieved this level of perfection.
Love your thoughts. I‘m one of those who got chosen by Tor as well. However Tor is not really a race, it’s rather a disease I got infected by. The attraction is not the (barely existing) running as such, but much more the complexity of the whole effort. To me, Tor is an excellent opportunity for personal growth and exploration of my inner limits. This is hard, if not impossible to find in other races, where things are mostly about, well, racing. I continue to search for endurance races that may suit my very personal needs, but it’s rare to find something that promises true happiness.
What I therefore resort to, and can only recommend to others, is to follow my explorer genes and design my own „races“. Distance, elevation, technicality, environment according to what I like. And there’s also competition: myself. Not just something I do around my home turf but wherever I’m willing to travel to.
I find races give my accountability to stay consistent day to day, week to week, in training. It's the consistent act of running that fills my cup, with races being the reward. I generally look to grab qualifiers for goal races (e.g. WSER) or seek out new-to-me adventures / experiences.