Conquer Your First 50K: Pacing Smart & Staying Tough
So, you’re officially in for your first 50K? Hell yeah — that’s a big move.
I remember toeing the line at the Bromo Desert Ultra for the first time, wondering if my legs would give out by mile 30 or if I’d mess up my pacing in the sand.
Turns out, the race didn’t care — it just kept coming.
That’s the truth about ultras: they’ll test every part of you, from your lungs to your gut to your mind.
But if you pace it right and prep your head for the rough spots, you’ll get through it — and maybe even cross the finish line smiling.
Pacing 101: Don’t Burn the Matchbook Early
Start slower than you want.
When the race kicks off, adrenaline will lie to you. You’ll feel fresh, fast, maybe even unstoppable.
That’s the trap.
If you’re cruising through the first hour thinking, “Damn, this feels easy,” that’s perfect — don’t change a thing.
According to Ultra Running Magazine, going out hot might feel like you’re racing, but it’s usually how runners end up sitting on the sidelines with a busted race.
You can’t win an ultra in the first half, but you sure as hell can lose it.
Lock in your “all-day” pace.
This is about managing energy, not showing off.
A smart ultra pace is often 1 to 2 minutes per mile slower than your road marathon effort — especially on technical trails.
If you normally run 8-minute miles on the road, expect 10s or 11s in a 50K — and that’s totally fine.
According to MyMottiv, most trail 50Ks fall in the 10–14 min/mile range, depending on terrain.
You should be able to chat comfortably in the early miles. If you’re breathing like you’re finishing a 5K, back off.
PrecisionHydration said it best: “It’s gonna get hard anyway. Why rush to that pain cave?”
When I ran the Mantra Ultra in Java, the first few miles felt ridiculously slow. But I kept my ego in check and held back.
Later, when others were cooked, I still had legs. That’s the game.
Run your own race.
Let the fast starters go. Seriously.
Wave and let them fly by.
You might see them again when they’re bent over at mile 22.
Research shows the most successful ultra finishers are the ones who slow down the least — not the ones who start the fastest.
In one 100K study, the best runners only dropped pace by 15% at the end. The rest? Over 40%. That’s a huge drop.
The goal is steady, steady, steady — not blow up and survive.
Keep telling yourself: “Patience now = power later.”
Hills: Climb Smart, Descend Smarter
Hike the damn hills.
No shame here. Even elite runners hike the big climbs.
I used to think power-hiking was weak until I saw a pro do it during a race and still finish top three.
In ultras, hiking is strategic.
According to iRunFar, walking the steep stuff helps save glycogen and lowers your heart rate.
If you push hard on those climbs early on, you’ll pay for it later.
Fast hike, pump your arms, stay efficient. It’s not about pride — it’s about keeping your engine running.
Go easy on the descents.
Yeah, downhills are fun — until your quads start screaming.
In one race, I bombed a long downhill just to pass a few runners.
Felt like a champ… until mile 18 when my legs turned to jelly and those same runners cruised by while I was kneeling on the trail massaging cramps.
Never again.
Here’s what I do now:
- Small, fast steps.
- Soft knees.
- No heel striking.
- Let gravity help — but not take over. That pounding adds up.
iRunFar and PrecisionHydration both highlight that downhill damage is a major reason people DNF ultras.
You want to feel smooth, not slammed.
Remember: be the tortoise, not the rabbit. The tortoise finishes strong.
Negative Splits: The Ultra Cheat Code
Running negative splits in an ultra? Sounds wild, right? But it’s actually one of the smartest ways to race — especially your first 50K.
Here’s the idea: finish faster than you started. It’s hard in a long race, but even trying gets you to run smarter early.
Ultrarunner Nick Coury has tested this approach over and over, from 50Ks to 100-milers. His take? Going out easy lowers the odds of anything going wrong — fewer stomach issues, fewer cramps, fewer mental meltdowns. And recovery is smoother. After one 100-miler, he said he felt like he’d only run 50. That’s the power of restraint early on.
Now look, running a perfect negative split isn’t easy — even the pros slow down a little. But the goal isn’t perfection. It’s to avoid blowing up and crawling in.
For your first 50K, just try to keep the second half close to your first. That alone separates you from the pack.
Here’s something I do: around mile 27 or 28, I tell myself, “If I feel okay, pick up the pace just a touch.” It doesn’t need to be a sprint — just a little more rhythm, a little more drive.
Having that plan makes you feel in control. It also makes the finish line feel like a reward, not a relief.
Oops, I Went Out Too Fast – Now What?
Let’s be real — this happens.
You’re hyped at the start line, the crowd’s buzzing, and suddenly you’re cruising like you stole something.
Then, bam — around mile 15, it hits you. Legs feel like cinder blocks, breathing’s gone rogue, and you realize you’ve been burning fuel like a rookie.
I’ve been there. Many of us have.
But listen — you haven’t ruined your race. You’ve just got to course correct, fast.
Back off and get your head right.
The first step? Ease up. Like now.
Drop the pace, let yourself jog or even walk for a bit. Don’t worry about what others are doing — this is your race.
Think of it as flipping the switch into “damage control mode.” Your only job is to calm your breathing and keep moving smart.
The faster you get your heart rate down and your head straight, the better shot you’ve got at salvaging the rest.
Fuel up like your finish depends on it — because it does.
If you went out hard, odds are you skipped a gel or ignored your thirst because you “felt great.”
Classic mistake.
Now it’s time to catch up.
Grab whatever your stomach tolerates — a gel, some chews, part of that bar you stuffed in your vest.
Get fluids in too. Electrolytes, water, whatever you’ve got.
I always tell runners: don’t be the person who skips an aid station thinking the next one’s close. That’s the exact kind of thinking that ends with you curled up in a ditch.
Top off at every aid station. Every. Time. Even if it feels early.
Pro tip from UltraRunning Magazine:
“Refuel often and always fill your bottles — even if the next section looks short.”
Trust me, the horror story of being out of water in the heat, miles from help, is one you can totally avoid just by being smart.
Flip the mental switch.
Okay — you went out too fast. So what?
Don’t waste energy beating yourself up. It’s done.
What matters now is how you respond. Break the rest of the race into chunks.
Focus on getting to the next aid station. Then the next two miles. That’s it. One chunk at a time.
I’ve had races where I felt completely wrecked halfway in. Like, “why am I doing this to myself” levels of doubt.
But after slowing down, refueling, and giving myself a break to walk it out, I came back.
You’d be shocked what 15 minutes of smart running and a banana can do for your mindset.
Ultras are weird like that — sometimes your second wind shows up just when you think you’re toast.
Ditch Plan A if you have to.
Your “perfect” finish time might be out the window — and that’s fine.
This sport rewards runners who can adapt on the fly.
Maybe now it’s about finishing steady instead of fast.
Maybe it’s about just crossing that line with no more meltdowns.
That’s still a win, especially for your first 50K. And funny enough? Easing off early sometimes sets you up to pass folks later when they’re blowing up.
Stay patient. Stay in the game.
The Final Miles: Smashing Through “The Wall”
Let’s talk about that part of the race — where your body’s screaming, your energy’s gone, and your brain starts whispering,
“Why not just quit?”
That’s the wall. And it hits different in a 50K. Sometimes around mile 20. Sometimes 30. Sometimes multiple times. And yeah, it sucks.
But here’s the truth: It’s 100% normal.
The good news? It doesn’t last.
Get tunnel vision.
When it hits, zoom in. Forget how many miles are left — that’ll crush your spirit. Just focus on the next thing: one foot, one tree, one rock at a time.
I like to do a little form check when I’m deep in the pain cave.
Straighten up. Swing my arms. Maybe even force a smile. (Seriously — research shows smiling can lower your perceived effort. It’s weird but it works.)
One ultrarunner put it best:
“When I start hurting bad, I focus on my form… I’ve gone through hell enough times to know it won’t last. Just keep moving, and eventually, you’ll come out the other side.”
That’s the truth. Pain, doubt, fatigue — they’re just passing through.
Your job is to keep moving until they leave.
Silence the head trash.
Late-race miles come with a lot of mental garbage.
Your brain will serve up every excuse in the book:
- “My knees are done.”
- “This is stupid.”
- “I’m not built for this.”
All lies.
I don’t trust anything my brain tells me after mile 25. It’s like a drunk friend at a bar — entertaining but not to be taken seriously.
I talk back to that voice.
“Nice try, quitter thought. You’re not in charge.”
Or I pretend I’m coaching a friend through the same moment:
“Let’s just get to the next aid station and regroup.”
Show yourself the same kindness and grit you’d show someone else.
Hold tight to your reason.
When the pain sets in deep, anchor to your “why.”
You didn’t train for months to bail now.
Whether it’s to prove something to yourself, honor someone, or just cross that finish line for the first time — remember that.
One ultrarunner said it best:
“There will always be reasons to quit. Good news is, there are also reasons to finish.”
— LongRunLiving.com
I love that.
I keep a mental reel of mine:
- Every long run.
- Every sunrise workout.
- Every sacrifice.
I remind myself I’m not wasting all that effort. And I visualize that finish line — the relief, the pride, the “damn I did it” feeling.
That’s what keeps me going.
Mental Toughness Toolbox: Stay Strong to the Finish
Let’s not sugarcoat it — running a 50K will beat you up mentally just as much as it does physically.
That’s why you need more than legs and lungs to finish strong.
You need a toolbox full of mental grit tricks.
Here’s what’s helped me — and the runners I coach — push through when the wheels start coming off:
Break It Down, Don’t Count It All
Forget the full 50K distance. That number can mess with your head.
Instead, chop it up:
- Think five 10Ks
- Or checkpoint to checkpoint
When I’m out there grinding, I’m not thinking:
“Only 28 miles to go!”
I’m thinking:
“Just get to that next tree, that next rock, that aid station with the salty chips.”
Every small victory — every chunk you knock out — builds momentum.
That’s how you stay in the game when your brain starts spinning.
“Break the beast into manageable bites, and it becomes way less intimidating.”
— LongRunLiving.com
So here’s the challenge:
Next long run, practice this.
Don’t run 20 miles. Run 4 fives.
Watch how different that feels.
Talk to Yourself Like You Mean It
When your legs are trash and your stomach’s flipping, your inner voice better be on your side.
Negative self-talk is a race killer. You’ve got to be your own hype crew.
One of my favorite mantras?
“Run when you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must—just don’t quit.”
That’s not just a cute line — it’s a survival rule for ultrarunners.
You can also keep it simple:
- “Strong and steady.”
- “One more mile.”
- “Don’t stop now.”
Heck, I’ve dedicated my final miles to my dad, my younger self, even a coaching client who’s grinding through something tough.
The point is — find your fuel. When it gets dark out there, you better have a flashlight in your head.
Need proof this works?
According to Healthdirect, the right self-talk can carry you through the darkest spots.
And I’ve seen it firsthand — both in my own races and in athletes I coach.
What’s your go-to mantra when the going gets ugly?
Visualize the Finish — Hard
I do this every time I race.
I picture the moment I cross that finish line — maybe it’s a high five from the race crew, maybe it’s my girlfriend smiling and yelling my name, or maybe it’s just collapsing into the grass with a Coke and a banana.
When I’m suffering in the middle of nowhere, I’ll zoom out in my mind and think:
“Tomorrow morning, this will all be behind me. But how do I want to remember today?”
That image of pride — that earned finish line moment — is what pulls me through when my body’s begging me to stop.
And I’m not alone.
Many experienced ultrarunners rely on this exact technique — because it works. Visualizing success literally rewires your brain to believe you can keep going.
Got a post-race reward you’re dreaming of?
Lock it in and use it when things get rough.
Make Peace with the Pain
Pain isn’t the enemy — it’s part of the deal.
You signed up for this.
Instead of whining “Why does this hurt so much?” flip the script. Say:
“This is what I trained for. This is the hard I came to conquer.”
Ultrarunning isn’t about feeling perfect the whole way. It’s about staying calm when things get uncomfortable.
Some of the best runners I know actually welcome the discomfort like an old friend.
They say, “Alright pain, let’s do this.”
Here’s what helps:
- Scan your body — feet ache? Quads screaming? Cool. Don’t judge it, just notice it.
- Keep moving. Don’t argue with it.
- Smile if you can — it actually helps.
According to TrailRunnerMag, accepting discomfort without labeling it as “bad” can keep you grounded and mentally stronger.
I’ve used this trick more times than I can count.
When you stop fighting the pain, it loses power.
And when you move with it — not against it — you unlock another level of toughness.
Crossing the Finish Line
Here’s the truth: your first 50K will probably be one of the hardest things you ever do.
That’s exactly why it’ll mean so much.
If you pace yourself smart and keep your mind strong, you’ll give yourself a real shot — not just to finish, but to finish proud.
Start easy. Respect the course. Save some gas for the last stretch.
And when you hit the wall (because you will), lean into everything you’ve built:
Your training.
Your reason for doing this.
Your mental game.
Put one foot in front of the other. Keep showing up in each moment.
It won’t always feel this hard. But the pride you’ll feel when you cross that finish line?
That’ll stick with you.
I still remember the moment I finished my first 50K.
I was wrecked. But I also felt more alive than I ever had.
That high — the “I freaking did it” feeling — that’s what keeps you coming back for more.
All the early mornings, the bad runs, the doubts — they all get buried under that one unforgettable win.
So what are you waiting for?
Let’s go. Run smart. Be relentless.
50K Ultramarathon FAQs – Real Talk Before the Big Day
Let’s tackle some common questions I hear from runners gearing up for their first 50K.
These aren’t just generic tips — this is what I’ve seen work (and fail) out in the real world, for myself and for runners I’ve coached.
Q: What should I eat before a 50K?
A: Think of it like this — you’re not “carb loading” to the point of needing to unbutton your jeans.
You’re just topping off the tank.
According to current guidelines, you want around 8–12 grams of carbs per kilo of bodyweight per day, starting 36 to 48 hours before your ultra.
If you weigh about 150 pounds (68 kg), that’s roughly 550g of carbs per day — about 2,200 calories just from carbs.
But don’t go crazy.
Stick to simple, familiar foods that your gut knows how to handle:
- White rice
- Pasta
- Bread
- Oats
- Bananas
- Potatoes
Don’t experiment with anything wild now.
This isn’t the time to try a vegan sushi burrito or down three protein shakes.
The day before the race:
Eat normally but focus on balance. You want carbs, yes, but not so much that you feel like a bloated beach ball.
Keep the fiber and fat low. Skip the giant salads and greasy dinners.
Trust me, I’ve made that mistake and paid for it the next morning.
Race morning:
Eat something solid about 90 minutes to 2 hours before the start.
I usually go for toast with peanut butter and banana, or oatmeal with honey and some nuts.
Around 300–500 calories does the trick.
Nothing too fibrous.
And yes — coffee’s fine, especially if it helps “clear the pipes.”
You want to handle business before the gun goes off, not mid-race.
Final tip:
Know exactly what you’re eating and drinking during the race, and have it ready.
Don’t wing it.
“I’ll figure it out at mile 10” is not a plan — it’s a setup for disaster.
Ultra nutrition rewards those who prep ahead.
Q: How should I pace a 50K—especially my first one?
A: One word: slow.
Slower than you think.
Slower than that.
That first hour?
It should feel almost boring. You’re holding back while your adrenaline screams “Go!” That’s the trap.
Most first-timers get sucked into the early rush and then crash hard by mile 20.
The golden rule I give my runners:
Run the first third stupid-easy, the second third smart, and if you’ve got anything left in the final third, use it.
If you’re running trails, hike the steep climbs.
Everyone does it — even elites.
Don’t destroy your legs trying to be a hero on the uphills. Let gravity help on the downhills, but don’t hammer so hard that you wreck your quads.
Use Rate of Perceived Effort or heart rate to stay in that “I could do this all day” zone. If your breathing is labored early on, you’re probably going out too hot.
Example pacing:
Say you’re aiming for a 6-hour finish.
That’s roughly 2:55 for the first 25K and 3:05 for the second.
A slight slowdown is fine. Just don’t fall apart.
And whatever you do — run your own damn race.
If someone bolts ahead in the first 10K, let ’em.
Chances are, you’ll pass them later when they’re doing the death shuffle.
Be the one still moving steady while others fade out. That’s the real win.
Q: What if I hit the wall mid-race? How do I push through when everything hurts?
A: Hitting the wall happens. The trick is how you handle it.
First, check the basics:
- Fuel: Are you eating enough?
- Hydration: Dehydration will crush your energy.
- Salt: Cramping or dizzy? Pop some electrolytes.
- Pace: Might be time to ease up a notch.
If you’re feeling totally drained, take in some sugar — gel, fruit, sports drink — whatever’s on hand.
Walk a bit. Regroup.
I’ve had races where I felt destroyed at mile 20, but after a short walk and some snacks at an aid station, I got a second wind and cruised the final stretch.
Mental tricks that work:
- Break the race into chunks.
“Just make it to the next aid station.” - Talk to yourself.
I do it all the time — out loud. “You’ve been through worse. Just move your damn feet.” - Music? Save your best playlist for mile 40.
I’ve blasted 90s rock through my phone speaker in the middle of nowhere to stay in the game.
And remember why you signed up in the first place.
Think of the training you’ve done. The people cheering you on.
That stuff matters more than perfect pacing.
If you’re seriously dizzy or throwing up nonstop, then yeah — consider pulling the plug.
But if it’s just the usual “everything hurts” ultra pain?
Know this: it’s part of the process.
Embrace it. Push through it. Earn that finish.
Q: How long should I taper before a 50K?
A: About two weeks is the sweet spot for most runners.
If you’ve been running big mileage or feel worn down, give yourself three weeks.
Your last really long run should be about 3 weeks out.
Taper Plan:
Two weeks out:
Cut mileage to 60–70% of your peak.
Race week:
Drop to 30–50%, mostly short, easy runs.
So if your peak was 50 miles/week:
- Drop to around 30–35 miles two weeks out,
- Then 15–20 miles (plus the race) the final week.
Some folks like to keep a bit more volume. Others feel better resting more.
Listen to your body.
It’s normal to feel cranky or sluggish during taper. I call them “taper tantrums.”
You start doubting your fitness. You feel like a couch potato.
Don’t worry — you’re not losing gains.
You’re just recharging the system.
You can toss in a few strides or short tempo bursts to stay sharp, but don’t go beast mode.
Use the down time to:
- Prep your gear
- Plan race logistics
- Get mentally dialed in
I always feel like a caged lion the day before an ultra — and that’s how I know the taper worked.
What about you?
- What’s your go-to pre-race meal?
- Have you ever bonked hard in a long race?
- How do you mentally push through when your legs want to quit?
Drop your answers or questions in the comments — I read everything.
Let’s trade war stories and get stronger together.