Week of October 26–November 1, 2026 | By Coach Stéphane
13.16 of 19 planned miles, a meringue that kept me up until 1:39 a.m., and a clutch that died in the snow.
“Maybe next time you hear from me, it will be in the news!”
That’s what I told Nicolas and Fabrice as they rode away. Sunday afternoon, near Stampede Pass, WA. Me, my AJP PR7 with a dead clutch, and a camp full of elk hunters I’d never met.
Snow. A lot of it. Far more than Nicolas, Fabrice and I expected. My tires were made for dirt and pavement, not snow, so on every slippery climb I nursed the bike along on the clutch. Again. And again. And again. Until the clutch quit.
The good news: it quit right next to that camp. There was no cell service, so the only way to reach my friend Eric was the hunters’ Starlink and their phone. My buddies rode on.
I was supposed to run six miles that day.
Previously: Week 2 — The First Signs.
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The plan for Week 3
Last week I asked a question: can a 60-year-old who finally feels like a runner again actually hold back for seven days? The plan was 19 miles, about 23% less than Week 2. Every run easy, around or under 130 bpm. Two strength sessions, no progression.
I ran 13.16.
Three runs, one strength session, and some plyometrics after Friday’s run.
Tuesday was a nice one. Four miles, feeling really good, finishing faster than I started.
Wednesday I did my strength session before running. Bench press, among other things. I felt it, and so did the run. I needed a couple of short walk breaks to keep my heart rate where I wanted it. My Strava title says it all: “Tough it out.”
Friday was worse. I’d gone to bed at 1:39 a.m. after baking meringues (more on that below). The first mile felt fine. In mile 2, my heart rate crept to 132, over my ceiling. So I slowed down. The first two miles averaged 10:28 at 127 bpm. The last two averaged 11:47 at the same 127. Same effort, 1:19 a mile slower. Same flat, paved trail in Sammamish I always run. No hills to blame. My Strava title: “Frustrating run.” My note: “Not progressing.”
I’ll be honest, that one stung. Three weeks in, I wanted to see something. In my experience, three weeks is not enough to see aerobic gains at 60. I expect real improvement somewhere around weeks 6 to 8. And you won’t find gains in a week when you’re short on sleep. My numbers across the three weeks say the same thing: no real change yet. That’s normal. The answer is patience, not pushing harder.
Sunday’s six never happened. I chose the mountains instead, on my dirt bike with my buddies. I expected a fun ride together, less taxing than a six-mile run. I hadn’t planned on snow, slippery climbs, or a dead clutch.
What my Garmin noticed
By the end of the week, my recovery numbers had moved the wrong way. My 7-day HRV average slid from 45 ms on Wednesday to 41 ms by Sunday. Still inside Garmin’s “Balanced” range every single day, but drifting down. Resting heart rate went from 48 to 53 bpm.
My first reflex was the coach reflex: is it the running? So I checked. Garmin charged each run 10 to 12 Body Battery points, the strength session 7. Every run averaged 126 or 127 bpm, the most controlled week of the comeback so far. The running didn’t explain it. The rest of my life explained a lot more.
Le Merveilleux
On Friday we had friends coming for dinner, and I decided to make Le Merveilleux. If you don’t know it, it’s a French dessert built on meringue and whipped cream. The meringue takes time. More time than I planned. Thursday night I was still at it, and I didn’t get to bed until after 1 a.m.
Friday I finished the cake and we hosted dinner. It was a wonderful evening. Good food, people I care about, and something I made with my own hands on the table.
There was also a beer, a glass of wine and two shots of génépi. Roughly four or five standard drinks.
Here’s the part I didn’t expect: the numbers moved before the first drink. Friday morning, after the meringue night, my sleep score was 69, my worst of the week, and resting heart rate jumped to 53. Saturday morning, after the dinner, my overnight HRV reading dropped to 37 ms, and I still needed a long nap that afternoon. Late nights, a social evening, alcohol, some ongoing family stress about my mother. They all lined up with the dip. I can’t tell you how much each one contributed, and I’m not going to pretend I can.
What I can tell you: none of it was a mistake. I’d make that cake again tomorrow. My Garmin can tell me something about how my body responded. It can’t tell me whether I had a good week.
Elk hunters, Starlink and a Budweiser
Back to Sunday. I didn’t stand in the snow for long. The hunters welcomed me into their heated tent. A TV. Starlink. A beer. A Budweiser, of course. I stayed more than two hours.
Nobody had to rescue me. But at 34°F and dropping, with no signal and no way home, this could have gone very differently without them. Instead, I was warm and in good company. We talked about life and adventures.
That’s one of my favorite parts of adventure: people I’d never have met, and their stories. The breakdown wasn’t fun. The afternoon after it was.
Eventually Eric pulled in with his truck. We loaded the PR7 and headed down the mountain, with one more stop: dinner at the Last Frontier Saloon in Fall City. We hadn’t really spent time together since the 2025 NORRA Mexican 1000, an off-road race down Baja. Long dinner. Long conversation. Great to reconnect.
I still have a clutch to replace, and it won’t be cheap. I don’t know that it broke for a reason. I do know a frustrating breakdown turned into an afternoon with strangers and an evening with an old friend. I’ll take that trade.
Week 3 by the Numbers
So, could I hold back for seven days? Yes, and then some. My highest heart rate during a run was 142, down from 151 the previous week. I did one of two strength sessions, because my body was asking for more recovery, and I listened. Sunday was a choice: the mountains on my dirt bike with my buddies instead of six miles. I wanted to start Monday fresh. Holding back was the right call.
What Week 3 Is Teaching Me
I’m a coach, and I still believe in structure, consistency and accountability.
But this week reminded me that my body doesn’t sort stress into “training” and “life.” A late night baking, a dinner with friends, worry about family: it all lands in the same place. My HRV and resting heart rate moved this week, and the running wasn’t the reason.
Friday’s “not progressing” run wasn’t a fitness problem. It was a 1:39 a.m. problem.
So here’s my advice. When your HRV dips or your resting heart rate climbs, look at your whole week before you blame your training. Sleep. Alcohol. Stress. Then decide. Sometimes the right call is to run less. Sometimes it’s to go to bed earlier.
Is your HRV dropping and you can’t tell whether it’s training or life? Email me your week at stephane@motivationrunning.com. I’ll tell you what I see.
I ran fewer miles than planned. I destroyed a motorcycle clutch. My Garmin was not impressed with my recovery.
But I made a fantastic cake, shared meals with friends, met some wonderful strangers, and had an adventure I’ll remember for years.
Looking back, I wouldn’t call that a bad week.
Not even close.
Week 4: Strides
The plan is more aerobic base, and I’ll start bringing in strides gradually. At this stage they’re a small neuromuscular step, not the start of hard speed work. The main thing I’m managing is still progressive load, adding work at a rate my 60-year-old body can absorb.
Here’s the plan for November 2 to 8, about 22 to 24 miles:
Strides are 4 × 30 seconds. Quick, relaxed, not sprints. Everything else stays easy, around or under 130 bpm.
Age changes us. Age doesn’t define us.
Coach Stéphane
Next week — Week 4. Strides are back, and so is my trail club’s annual beer mile. One of those is a terrible idea for a guy with a 130 bpm ceiling.
Follow My Running Comeback at 60
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If you’re rebuilding your running fitness — whether you’re 40, 50, 60, or beyond — I hope you’ll find something useful in the journey.
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