There is an arbitrary point in a runner’s life when “lifetime miles” switch from being a source of assurance to a cause for concern.
Early on in a runner’s life, conversations proceed like this: “Recently, my training has been compromised, but I have so many lifetime miles in my legs that I should be fine in my upcoming race.”
Later, these conversations adopt a sinister tone. “Yes, I prepared for this event, but I have so many lifetime miles in my legs that I hope I am fresh enough to keep up with my competitors.”
The trouble is, you never know when this transition will occur. You never know when one more mile becomes too many miles (1), and you will cross some invisible threshold from preparation to decline. Also, this transition can take someone by surprise because, for many runners, what was once a source of racing confidence (training mileage) suddenly becomes something to lament.
In retrospect, you might wonder whether you should have run less. Or maybe you don’t. How you weigh your former athletic decisions against your current condition depends on how you measure a good life and what sorts of Faustian bargains you are willing to make (2).
Just Retire Already
Two years ago, I wrote an article on how to take humanity seriously in sports. I asked whether we are like pencils — able to be sharpened through training, but not indefinitely. You can only sharpen a pencil so many times until it is all used up. Maybe racing ultramarathons is like that. In that article, I wrote that taking humanity seriously in sports means stewarding the body well, honoring its limits, and celebrating rather than begrudging the athlete’s entire lifespan — including the arc of their performance decline.
I was thinking about these ideas again recently because Eliud Kipchoge, the former marathon world record holder, raced the 2025 Sydney Marathon. Now 40 years old, Kipchoge is no longer in a league of his own, but he is still world-class, an articulate spokesperson, and an advocate for the sport who raises the profile of every event he competes in.
Nevertheless, following his ninth-place finish in Sydney, there were calls for the now-40-year-old to retire. Kipchoge responded, “To those who feel it’s time for me to retire, I say this with respect: Nowadays I don’t compete to win; I compete to stay fit and strong. It’s my hobby (3).”
Certainly, Kipchoge is not the first athlete to field such comments. People often talk about runners who are “finished” or who should retire immediately. These comments are not unique to sports either. People in general are uncomfortable with aging. This is obvious in a culture where we are advised to erase wrinkles, dye our hair, and hide all other evidence that we ever lived.
Aging is not shameful. This seems like an obvious thing to say, but we often act as though it is shameful, particularly in how we speak about the arc of an athlete’s career. Aging is human. It means we have the gift of a long life, which is not afforded to everyone.
When I hear comments like those directed at Kipchoge and other elites as they age, I often wonder what people are saying to themselves about their own inevitable performance decline — when their base of “lifetime miles” crosses over from security to liability.
Aging Is Good, Actually
I recently read J.M. Barrie’s “Peter Pan.” Like many people, I watched the film version a lot as a child. As a child, I somehow missed a central tension in the storyline — the fact that Wendy ages and Peter does not. He returns to Neverland. At the end of the story, Peter promises he will return to Wendy, but he forgets. His memory is poor because he lives in the moment and perhaps because he has an uneasy relationship with time.
In an epilogue added later, Barrie describes Peter’s belated return. Wendy is an adult (4). Peter is a child and still has all of his baby teeth. Peter continues to live a life of childhood adventures, which is fun. However, there is a tragic element to his perpetual youth. He cries when he realizes Wendy has grown up without him. His life is stunted, while her life is made coherent through a maturity acquired over the years.
You can’t stay young forever without losing something important. Often we frame discussions of aging as a loss — being unable to compete at the level we once did. But many things are gained through aging, too — wisdom, maturity, experience, recognition of what has value, and relationships deepened over many years.
Final Thoughts
The whole course of a running life is beautiful — the beginning when you rely on others and have little awareness of what is going on, the part where you find your footing and start to discern your potential, when you train hard and crest a performance peak, and when you develop a broader vision of how to occupy the sport with integrity, whatever your physical status.
I dislike the part of professional racing where a runner who was previously ascendent ages, and then people say terrible things about how they are washed up and bad athletes. No, they are not bad athletes. They are humans, and they have a lot to offer to the sport beyond performance.
Call for Comments
- How has aging changed your relationship with running?
- What benefits come with being a runner with a lot of lifetime miles in their legs?
Notes/References
- This is known as a sorites paradox, or “paradox of the heap.” One grain of sand is not a heap. If you add another grain of sand, that is not a heap either. If you add a third grain of sand, that is not a heap. At what point do grains of sand become a heap? This is a puzzle because the term “heap” is a vague concept. Likewise, we might wonder when the addition of a single extra mile crosses over from preparation to decline. It is a difficult question, made more difficult by the fact that this threshold varies for everyone.
- Faustian bargain originates from the legend of Doctor Faustus. It refers to the willingness to trade long-term happiness for short-term gains (e.g., selling your soul for riches, or selling your long-term health for peak performance now).
- T. Mwangi. 8 September 2025. Eliud Kipchoge retirement news: “I’m not running for medals anymore.” SportsLeo News. Web <https://sportsleo.news/football/eliud-kipchoge-retirement/ > Accessed 8 September 2025.
- J.M. Barrie. 1979. Peter Pan and Wendy. Hodder and Stoughton. Chapter XVIII. When Wendy Grew Up, 176.