The Coach’s Note
January 2026
Happy New Year!
I’ve been a little quiet here since around August. If I’m being honest, as I moved closer to my major race of the year, TDS by UTMB, the weekly cadence of the Weekly Wrap started to feel forced. Writing and distributing something every week became another task rather than something I genuinely looked forward to. As training load increased and focus narrowed and the newsletter was put on the backburner.
That pause was needed.
Moving into 2026, I’ve spent some time thinking about how I can deliver the best value to those of you who choose to be here. As a result, this newsletter has been rebranded to The Coach’s Note.
This will now be a monthly letter.
“Cadence matters, but integrity of output matters more” is a quote I wrote down towards the end of last year that resonated with me.
That means if I need an extra day or seven to ensure what I’m sharing is thoughtful, evidence-based, and genuinely useful, I’ll take it. What you can expect each month is a considered deep dive into running, some personal insight into what I’m learning and training for, a short client spotlight, and a closing question designed to make you pause and reflect.
If you ever have feedback, questions, or thoughts you’d like to share, the door is always open. My hope is that The Coach’s Note helps you think more clearly about your running, your training decisions, and how you approach the long game.
Let’s dive in.
The Coach’s Note
A simple signal many runners ignore
One of my most engaged instagram posts recently spoke about something that doesn’t get discussed nearly enough in endurance circles: morning erections.
It caught attention for obvious reasons, but the reason it resonated so strongly is because it spoke to a deeper issue many runners, particularly active men, are quietly dealing with.
Morning erections are not about libido. They’re a physiological signal.
They’re driven by healthy testosterone levels, balanced cortisol, adequate energy availability, and a nervous system that is able to down-regulate overnight. In simple terms, they’re a sign that your body is recovering, regulating, and functioning as it should.
When they start to disappear consistently, it’s often one of the earliest warning signs of:
Chronic under-fueling
Excessive training load without adequate recovery
Elevated stress and cortisol
Suppressed testosterone
A nervous system stuck in a sympathetic, always-on state
Where runners and active men get this wrong is that they normalise it.
They assume it’s just part of training harder, getting older, or “being disciplined”. In reality, it’s often the body quietly saying that the system is under strain.
The cost of ignoring this signal is rarely immediate, which is why it’s so easy to brush off. Over time, it shows up as:
Plateaued performance despite doing more
Poor sleep quality
Reduced motivation and drive
Increased injury risk
Hormonal disruption that takes months, not weeks, to reverse
Fitness can improve in the short term while health declines in the background. That’s the dangerous part.
High-performing training isn’t just about what you can tolerate. It’s about what you can recover from, adapt to, and sustain over years, not just blocks.
If a basic recovery signal like this is consistently missing, it’s rarely a motivation problem. It’s usually a load management, fuelling, or stress regulation problem.
And those are all things we can fix, once we’re willing to pay attention.
Personal Insight
What TDS and Berlin taught me the hard way
As many of you know, my major goal race last year was TDS, during UTMB week. The course had changed slightly, stretching out to roughly 150 kilometres with close to 9,000 metres of climbing, starting in Courmayeur and finishing in Chamonix.
On paper, the build-up went well. Very well, actually.
Looking back now, that might have been part of the problem.
I trained hard and I trained consistently, but I probably overdid it on the margins. Friday night runs after work to get used to running in the dark. Long weekends in the mountains. Hours in the car commuting from the Northern Beaches to chase vertical. On top of running a business, running Vipers, and trying to live a full life outside of training.
The volume was there. The intent was there. But recovery and fuelling were likely lagging behind what the training demanded.
The race itself started close to midnight. That first night section was magic. I felt strong, relaxed, and genuinely enjoyed running through the dark. I fuelled well, moved smoothly, and arrived at the first major aid station around 50 kilometres feeling better than expected.
I spent a bit longer there than usual, around 40 minutes, knowing the hardest section of the course was coming. From there, the race opened up into long, sustained climbs, rising heat, and increasingly exposed terrain.
I was running alongside a client and close mate, Warren, when we hit one of the longest climbs of the race. Around 16 kilometres of steep, relentless hiking. I felt good, maybe too good, and I pushed harder than I should have. In hindsight, that climb took more out of me than I realised at the time.
People were already sitting on the side of the trail, some done, some not looking great. At the next aid station, somewhere around the 80-kilometre mark, I made a simple but costly mistake. I misjudged my hydration and left with far less water than I thought. It was hot. Really hot. And I didn’t slow down enough to correct it.
The next hour without water unravelled things quickly.
By the time I reached the following aid station, I was trying to rehydrate on the fly. I rushed the stop because the tent was stifling, telling myself I just needed to keep moving. That decision caught up with me fast.
A long exposed section, a dam crossing, another climb, then a steep technical descent. Somewhere in there, my body said no. I started vomiting, my pace dropped to a crawl, and concern shifted from performance to basic health and safety. It took close to two hours to cover three kilometres.
That’s where I made the call to stop.
Could I have sat in the aid station for an hour, rehydrated, refuelled, and eventually finished? Possibly. But standing there, knowing I still had another 50 kilometres and a full night ahead at the rate I was moving, I knew it wasn’t the right decision for me that day.
I walked away disappointed, but not defeated.
TDS taught me more than many races I’ve finished. I now know I can complete that course. I understand where patience matters, where restraint pays off, and where fuelling and hydration cannot be compromised. I’ll go back, and when I do, I’ll be better for having lived through that experience.
A few weeks later, after some time off and travel through Greece and the south of France, I lined up at the Berlin Marathon with my mate and client Chad. We had ambitions of a solid sub-3. The preparation (for Chad) was there.
The environment wasn’t.
A 28-degree day sandwiched between cool weather. Sweating on the start line. Threshold heart rate within the first five kilometres. It was obvious early where the day was heading. I backed off, managed the effort, took short walk breaks, and brought it home.
Two races. Two outcomes that didn’t match the plan.
But both reinforced the same lesson.
Fitness alone doesn’t guarantee performance. The ability to adapt to conditions, manage effort, hydrate properly, and respect the environment matters just as much. Ignoring those variables doesn’t make you tough. It just makes things harder than they need to be.
Looking ahead, Paris Marathon is on the radar, still to be confirmed. The bigger goal later in the year is Sydney, where I’d love to line up healthy, patient, and ready to run something in the low-2:40s.
The goal hasn’t changed.
The way I approach getting there has.
Client Spotlight
Josh Coldray – TOR330
Last year, I had the privilege of coaching Josh Coldray through Tor des Géants, a 330-kilometre mountain ultra starting and finishing in Courmayeur, Italy, with over 24,000 metres of elevation gain and loss and a strict 150-hour cutoff.
It’s widely regarded as one of the toughest races in the European Alps, with an exceptionally high DNF rate. For good reason.
Josh’s race was a true rollercoaster. Long days, long nights, changing weather, constant problem-solving, and more than a few phone calls where decisions had to be made under fatigue and pressure.
What stood out most wasn’t just the physical preparation, but Josh’s commitment to seeing the process through. He didn’t chase perfect conditions or a flawless race. He committed to adapting, staying composed, and continuing to make the next right decision, no matter how uncomfortable things became.
That mindset is what gets people to the finish line in races like this.
Josh’s dedication, not just to the training but to finishing the race regardless of what it threw at him, is something I genuinely admire and something many runners can learn from.
A question to leave you with
Where in your training or life are you prioritising output over integrity, and what would change if you slowed down just enough to listen to the signals you’re currently ignoring?
If you’d like more educational content around running, training, recovery, and performance, you can find me over on Instagram. I share regular insights there that build on many of the ideas explored in The Coach’s Note.
Thanks for being here.
Matty
Very interesting note Matty