
(Photo: Getty Images)
After more than two decades coaching Olympic, pro, collegiate, and adult athletes, there’s one sentence I hear over and over from runners in their 40s: Why does this suddenly feel so much harder?
Most assume they’re losing endurance. That their aerobic engine is fading. That age has finally caught up. You might be feeling the same way, but I can tell you that’s rarely the full story.
I work with many Masters athletes who still want to perform at a high level, and I can say that yes, things change in your 40s. But what changes—and what actually makes running feel harder—might not be what you think. Luckily, there are solutions to mitigate the physical changes you’re experiencing so running can feel enjoyable again.
Let’s start with the physiology. Even in trained adults, VO2 max declines gradually with age—roughly 5–10% per decade if untrained. But with consistent training, that decline is far less, and, in your 40s, aerobic capacity is still highly trainable.
But the bigger shifts tend to happen elsewhere. Across both men and women, I consistently see:
Most runners don’t lose their lungs in their 40s. They lose strength, power, and tissue resilience. And that changes how running feels.
Performance may feel less predictable. Some weeks feel strong. Others feel flat. That doesn’t mean fitness is disappearing, but rather it means physiology is more dynamic.
So in all, most runners in their 40s (and in some cases 50s and beyond) the aerobic engine is still strong. But power and elasticity—the “pop” off the ground, lightness in the stride, ability to surge without thinking about—declines. When force production drops, pace feels harder, even at the same heart rate. That’s the shift. Not endurance. Force.
There’s also something less measurable but just as real.In your 20s, fatigue feels normal. In your 40s, fatigue feels like a warning. In your 20s, you bounce back quickly. In your 40s, you’ve likely dealt with at least one injury.
By this decade, many runners have lost a little faith in their body. Effort feels heavier not just physically, but mentally.That shift alone can change how every run feels.
Strength, power, tendon resilience, recovery capacity, and stress tolerance become the new bottlenecks. When you train accordingly, the heaviness lifts. The runners I coach who continue to feel strong in this decade focus on three things:
Running is controlled by single-leg landings over and over again. Split squats, step-ups, and hip stability work protect the knees and hips and improve stride control. Aim for 3-4 sets; 4-12 reps.
Bulgarian Split Squats
Standing Forward Lunge
Step‑Ups
Single‑Leg Squats
Glutes and hamstrings drive propulsion. Deadlifts, hip hinges, and controlled power work maintain force production and running economy. Aim for 3-4 sets; 4-10 reps.
Deadlift
Leg Curls
Hip Thrust/Glute Bridge
Your lower leg is your spring. Slow, controlled calf raises and progressive plyometrics maintain elastic return and reduce injury risk. Go for 3-4 sets; 10-20 reps.
Calf Raise (Straight & Bent Knee)
Pogo Jump
Box Jump
You can also incorporate other plyometric exercises from this guide.
Plyometric and explosive work should be performed at the beginning of a session, after the warm-up, when the body is fresh. Throughout the week, runners should include one session emphasizing single-leg strength and another emphasizing posterior chain strength.

Writer and runner Paige Triola convinced her husband to race Stage 3 of the TransRockies Run, and it put a "healthy fear" in them both. (Photo: Courtesy Paige Triola)
The starting line hummed with energy. Runners stretched antsy limbs in the morning chill as AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” throbbed from speakers. The race announcer barked the 10-second countdown. I gave my laces a final yank and turned to my husband. “Remember,” I told Rob one last time. “Don’t look up.”
It was not my first experience with the TransRockies Run—a notorious multi-day, 120-mile trail race in Colorado. In 2019, I was invited to participate as a media attendee. Decidedly not an ultrarunner, it seemed best for me to tackle just one of the six stages of the course rather than the full distance. With some trepidation, I opted to run Stage 3: a 14-mile section with more than 2,700 feet of elevation gain up and over Hornsilver Mountain. It was a grueling, beautiful, incredibly rewarding experience. Six years later, I was ready to do that same exact stage again—this time with a running partner.
Rob was understandably dubious. He’d never raced before, and the longest distance we were running at that point was 4 miles. With three months to prepare for a half marathon distance (plus a bonus mile), we decided to meet the challenge head on. I did my best to inspire some healthy fear in Rob.
“This is a lot like the stuff we’ll be running in the race,” I’d gasp as we hustled up a cruelly steep and technical slope. Or, after a hard 7-mile trail run: “We’ll be doing double that!” I was partly scaring myself as well. And that fear inspired dedicated training.
Properly intimidated, we both trained harder than ever before, worst-case scenarios looming in our minds. What if we can’t make it to the finish line? Would the relentless uphills psych us out? If one of us runs out of steam mid-race, on top of the mountain … then what? This fear sharpened our determination to be as prepared as possible by race day.
Having a challenging race on the calendar was the drive we needed to stay consistent with our training—we were too nervous to skip even a single workout, knowing it would affect our race. Each weekend, we took on increasingly challenging trails—Boulder has plenty of those—and when we traveled, we packed our running gear so we didn’t miss a beat. While out in Leadville supporting friends doing a mountain bike race, we even squeezed in a steep portion of the Colorado Trail (a great opportunity to put our trekking poles to the test).
I’m not a fan of the gym, but now I had a reason to double down on strength training. We incorporated weekly gym sessions to focus on weight-lifting and controlled treadmill workouts. Keenly aware of the course’s quad- and glutes-burning hilly terrain, weighted squats and lunges became a permanent part of my gym routine. We found our arms aching from hauling ourselves up hills with trekking poles, so we added bicep curls as well.
We strove to incorporate plenty of whole foods into meals. Hydration became a priority, and I never ran without electrolytes to keep energy up and fatigue at bay. I also found that putting high-quality whey protein into post-workout smoothies reduced my muscle soreness.
Comfort matters a lot more when you’re running for over four hours. I knew that thigh-chafing shorts and hotspot-inducing socks would mean 14 miles of utter torture. So I shuffled through various combinations of running tops, hydration packs, shoes, hats, and sunglasses to assemble the ideal racing outfit. The result was well worth all of the practice runs—each piece of carefully chosen gear performed beautifully on race day.
Despite feeling excited about building up our strength and running distance, a little spike of anxiety remained all throughout the race prep. It wasn’t just the amount of time and miles we’d be running, it was the climbing—my greatest weakness. Trudging upward for 6 miles with gassed out legs and burning lungs? I dreaded doing that again. But it was the scary part that fueled me to push harder. The trails I’d usually avoid for being too steep were the ones I sought out for training runs. Along with my doom-and-gloom comments to Rob about the race’s intensity, I’d praise our hard efforts; and, bit by bit, our confidence grew.
At the end of our TransRockies experience, we felt proud and accomplished. Rob crushed his first race ever (and his longest distance), and I had successfully conquered the same stage I’d run six years ago—and with much less pain, thanks to all the strength training!
To be truthful, I usually prefer shorter distances. The 5K is my go-to: These fun, low-pressure races don’t require high training output for me since I typically run 2 to 3 miles on a regular basis.
But every now and then, you need to sign up for a true challenge so you don’t get too comfortable. A race that demands far more stamina than you currently have in the tank? Suddenly, you have something to work for. Weekly runs aren’t optional; a nutrition plan becomes necessary; strength workouts are essential. And on the big day, you get to see what you’re really capable of.