The Ask the Coach series dives deep into your most pressing questions about endurance training. Feel free to ask a question for consideration by emailing it to me at coaching@couchtothesummit.com

I’ve been coaching athletes since late 2019, and at that time, I had been largely injury-free for nearly a decade, other than minor problems like the inevitable ankle roll or slip. However, since late 2021, I’ve been battling a chronic injury that, three years later, still shows no clear path to full recovery. Naturally, this raises some valid questions:

If you knew what you were doing as a coach, how did you get so injured?

Was it a mistake in your coaching philosophy, and could it happen to others?

Did you fail to follow your own advice?

Why has this injury persisted for years, if you’re knowledgeable about coaching?

The challenge in answering these questions lies in the complexity and nuance of the situation. Every person is unique—in their personal history, training background, biomechanics, goals, risk tolerance, and the knowledge they had at the time, without the benefit of hindsight. I’ve also pondered whether trying to explain and justify why I’m injured would make it seem like I’m just making excuses to cover for my underlying incompetence?

The simplest explanation is that I’m an experienced elite endurance athlete, and I accepted higher levels of risk to pursue difficult goals. In the interest of full transparency, I’ve been managing chronic hip adhesive capsulitis (frozen hip) in my right side since late 2021. This condition has been accompanied by damage to my right iliofemoral ligament, tendinopathy in both hamstrings with bone spurs, as well as muscle damage and scarring with thickening in my adductors, glutes, and hamstrings. I was chasing a very difficult goal with significantly hard training with an underlying and long-standing hip instability condition - including a genetic issue with laxity in my tendons. I wasn't aware of this issue until my training loads increased. The goal I was chasing was breaking the Unshuttled Everesting On Foot World Record. You can read more about my injury and what happened here.

You can’t always achieve every goal you set your sights on and there are also consequences to chasing hard goals if there are any underlying weaknesses that are yet to be known. The athletes I coach, however, are on a developmental path with far less acceptable risk. You can’t compare the two.

I believe in full transparency as a coach because it’s how we grow. I’ve always appreciated those who are open about both their struggles and successes rather than only sharing the highlights. Neither approach is wrong, but I find the full story to be more genuine. Life, after all, is never a 100% smooth journey. It’s not the point to be an athlete or coach who only shares their successes and creates a false image of their skillset and abilities. No one is flawless, and setbacks are unavoidable. If we can’t share our struggles, we miss the opportunity to show the diverse journey of endurance training. Without that, others may repeat the same mistakes. Learning from those who came before helps make training and racing safer and more effective.

If I had been overly concerned with public perception, I might have stopped running altogether or only pursued conservative goals, avoiding injury and maintaining a perfect reputation. “I’m a coach who’s never been injured!” sounds great, but would I have one day regretted not chasing harder goals because I feared failure and what others might think?

From a coaching perspective, I also asked myself— how can I guide my athletes through the adversity of tackling very difficult objectives, if I haven’t faced and tested it myself? This is crucial when you're in the role of helping others.

The truth is, much of the adversity I’ve faced has been self-imposed, and there’s no right or wrong in that—it just is. As a result, I’ve learned from my mistakes, which helps me guide others to avoid those same pitfalls. I wasn’t afraid to take risks, and neither should you.

Does this mean coaches should take more risks to test strategies before coaching other athletes? Not necessarily. But endurance sports are full of individuals who took significant leaps forward despite the high chance of failure. It’s part of the nature of the sport. We learn greatly from our endurance failures, but it’s also crucial to try and minimize the negative consequences, like long-term injury.

Playing it safe isn’t always the ultimate goal—it depends on the context. Early on, a cautious approach is wise, but as we grow stronger and more resilient, we can take on greater challenges, even if they come with higher risks. With each success, the stakes often rise, as do the chances of failure. But that’s part of the test—the challenge that fuels growth.

Pushing to find our limits requires both bravery and, sometimes, a touch of recklessness. The line between the two is often blurred. Those who lean toward low risk may see it as foolish, while high-risk individuals may call it courageous. But that’s what makes the journey interesting. We all land at different degrees of acceptable risk.

The possibility of failure makes achieving difficult goals even more rewarding. I’ve had a long list of “strong chance of failure” goals, and when I succeed at one, it feels incredible. But I’ve also learned to let go of goals when the body simply can’t meet the mind’s demands. It’s important to be okay with that, though it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I didn’t succeed in the goals that led to my injury, but I learned far more from trying than I would have from playing it safe. Do I have regrets? Sure. Would I do it differently if I had my time over? Absolutely!

It’s easy to call ourselves brave when we succeed, but do we admit to recklessness when we fail? I believe we can be brave in failure and reckless in success. That’s the complexity of life. Right now, I feel both brave and reckless in my failure, but I’m also wiser for it. The next time I take on a challenging goal, I’ll be better prepared. There’s always a silver lining in injury or failure, its an opportunity to come back a better version of yourself.

As a coach, it’s crucial not to push athletes into high-risk situations without careful thought. A conservative approach is usually best, but the level of risk ultimately depends on the athlete’s goals and comfort level—it’s their decision, not the coach’s. My role is to clearly communicate potential risks and help the athlete improve their chances of success, whatever path they choose. Success is never guaranteed, and injury is a common consequence of pushing the risk-reward balance too far. While risks can bring quicker growth and rewards, they also come with the possibility of long-term setbacks. That’s ok. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And certainly nothing to hide from.

No One Can Guarantee You an Injury-Free Journey

First, it’s important to acknowledge that no coach—whether yourself or someone else—can guarantee an injury-free journey. Spending significant time in the mountains or on trails brings inevitable slips, falls, and trips, especially on technical terrain. Trail running is also an impact sport, and few athletes have perfect biomechanics.

You might roll an ankle on a non-technical trail by stepping on a small pebble, simply because your focus drifted. It only takes a momentary lapse in concentration. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve slightly rolled an ankle, kicked a rock, or slipped on a tree root or icy patch. These sudden movements can create microtraumas in muscles, ligaments, and tendons, which may not be noticeable immediately but add up over time.

A small tear can cause adhesions, reducing muscle pliability. If left untreated, this reduced range of motion leads to more tension and adhesions, spiraling into larger muscle groups losing function. This is why I advise all mountain athletes to regularly work on tissue release using foam rollers, massage balls, and mobility exercises on a weekly basis.

Mountain running naturally causes minor muscle trauma, but with proper recovery, the body adapts and grows stronger. Knowing where to draw the line between pushing and recovery isn’t always intuitive. That’s why it’s important to take a conservative approach to training, ensuring rest, nutrition, and tissue maintenance are routine.

Biomechanics play a huge role in injury risk. Athletes with poor mechanics can’t handle the same impact as those with good mechanics, even if they have similar fitness levels. Some need more time building resilience before they’re ready for higher volume and intensity, while others may progress quickly due to a history of strength training or fewer muscular imbalances.

As a coach, my role is to assess these factors and determine how much training load an athlete can handle and when to intensify. Logged metrics often reveal how well an athlete is adapting and can indicate if it’s safe to increase the load. A good coach manages training risk based on experience and development, not just fitness level, and offers honest feedback on whether a goal is realistic or needs reconsideration.

Even with our best efforts, underlying weaknesses often remain hidden until exposed during training. When setbacks happen, we troubleshoot and adjust, though this may delay progress. As part of my evolving coaching toolkit, I’m always looking for assessments that can help identify potential risks before they cause problems.

Working with a qualified professional is ideal, but not every athlete has the resources or desire to do so until it’s necessary. As a coach, my goal is to help athletes identify weaknesses and recommend professional help for complex issues. However, athletes must also take responsibility by incorporating “prehab” training to build functional strength and resilience before injuries occur.

Some athletes pursue risky goals before they’re developmentally ready, while others take a more patient approach, focusing on longevity. The safer route requires more time and patience—something not everyone has.

In my experience, athletes often come to me after signing up for races they aren’t ready for, asking for help to get across the finish line. Sometimes I can help, but I’m not a miracle worker. There are limits, and sometimes you simply aren’t ready, no matter how determined you are.

My recommendation is to assess your readiness with a coach before committing to races. I generally take a conservative approach, focusing on athletic longevity. But if an athlete accepts higher risks, we go for it, learning from the experience, whatever the outcome.

There are two approaches to training: to “survive” a race or to “perform” in it. When new to trail running, survival is often the initial focus, with performance becoming the goal over time. Some athletes stay in survival mode for years as they tackle increasingly difficult races. There’s no right or wrong way, just different consequences.

Do you master the 20-25km distance before attempting an ultra, or jump straight into 50km after surviving your first 25km? Both approaches exist. I usually encourage mastering shorter distances first, a common practice in Europe, while in North America, many aim for ultras early on.

Ultimately, athletes have the freedom to choose their path, and it’s my job as a coach to help them succeed. However, success is never guaranteed. Simply put, the higher the risk, the greater the chance of failure or injury.

A coach’s role is to manage this risk as much as possible. If an athlete gets injured while pursuing a challenging goal, it doesn’t necessarily reflect poorly on the coach. A good coach helps the athlete learn from setbacks and prepares them for future attempts. After all, we learn more from failure than success, and hard-earned goals are often the most rewarding.

When failure occurs, preparation for future success might include reassessing goals, adjusting the training approach, or seeking external help. Every setback offers a valuable learning opportunity—if we allow wisdom, failure’s greatest companion, to guide us forward.