Apologies in advance. I’m about to say one of most annoying things a runner can say. It’s not: ‘I’ve just signed an amazing new sponsorship deal meaning free daps for life.’ And it’s definitely not: ‘Despite being 47, I just seem to be getting faster and faster.’ Rather, I recently reached my six-year anniversary of running injury free. (Sorry.)

Before you click away from this website, redirect you physiotherapist bills to my address in the Wiltshire Alps, or – gasp – unfollow me on Instagram, I should clarify what I mean by injury.

One hundred and eighty miles into 2022’s 268-mile and co-founder of, I made the decision to retire. Not for the first time in my life, my groin let me down. A dull ache had become a sharp pain. I was injured. You could argue it was an overuse injury, but to me it was a trauma injury (to quit a race with a four-hour lead is kinda traumatic), or at least a race injury. That’s TOTALLY different to a training injury.

Indeed, post-race I am effectively injured for a week or so, with acute micro-tears/epic DOMS often being the least of my issues. I’m injured. But that’s an expected, calculated injury. I just sleep and eat cake. There’s also a key difference between an injury and a niggle.

Occasionally in that six-year period, I’ve decided not to run for a day or two, because of a niggle. I’ve had most of the classics: achilles, plantar fasciitis, the knee things. But backed off quickly, slept and eaten more deliberately, done strength work, perhaps temporarily switched shoes and/or surfaces, and it’s gone quickly. To me, a niggle has to cause a week off running before it’s officially upgraded to an injury.

Other than post-race, I’ve not taken more than three days off running since early 2017 and my injury dodging seems something of a mystery. I run 60-100 miles a week, my races are usually mountainous/boggy and between 50 and 268 miles. So my not-especially-young body should be quick to strain, sprain and snap.

I do several things to avoid injury, but because I do several, I can’t be sure which are most effective. I feel certain a training plan with structured recovery across weeks and months helps (but I’m a coach, so I would). My easy runs really are truly easy. And I run mostly on trails. But my hunch is that it’s more to do with the stuff I do and don’t do when not in my daps.

For example, I always drink five-six cups of tea a day. I do strength work. I aim for eight hours’ sleep a night. Have regular, pre-emptive physio visits/leg massages/foam rolling/A complete guide to running in the dark stretching. The only 7 strength moves you actually need RW columns in late, I try to minimise work/life stress. I use a standing desk, rarely drink booze (after a bad race it’s allowed though) and I aim to always eat enough, including chocolate/cake every day, sometimes for breakfast. With the exception of tempos, and co-founder of.

Some things I don’t do: ice baths, nasal breathing, weigh myself regularly, count or restrict calories or carbs, change my shoes every 300 miles (or 500 miles or 1,000 miles), look at the pace on my watch during easy runs, fasted runs, look at other people’s runs on Strava, or eat meat or dairy.

It’s a study of one with no certain conclusions. Other than my unlikely six-year injury-free streak can most likely been explained by a strict tea-drinking regime.

Of course, now that I’ve bragged about it, we know what will inevitably happen soon. Pride before a fall and all that. Now that would be properly annoying.

In It For The Long Run We Can’t Run Away From This and One hundred and eighty miles into 2022s 268-mile Whats the healthiest amount of running each week and co-founder of