When I set off on the AT in my early twenties, I was young and spry. I had the energy to chase after crazy physical feats without worry of injury or a second thought. Now that I’m 26… I’m starting to feel the effects of gravity a little more.
Just kidding! (Mostly) I actually trained for the AT 3 years ago and I believe that’s what provided me the edge to go farther, faster in the beginning weeks when I was desperately chasing down people to hang out with. I had started later in the season, mid-April, and was consequently hiking alone for a good portion of the first few weeks until I caught up to the backside of the bubble. But if it weren’t for the training I did beforehand, things might have ended up differently.
Training then looked like this: running almost every day, long training hikes over 10 miles, hiking with a full pack often, weekend backpacking trips, and my favorite, putting 30 pounds worth of weights in my backpack and hopping on the stair climber for an hour or more. By the time that I hit the trail and encountered my first mountain, which was pretty instantaneous mind you, I conquered it with ease. The only thing my training didn’t prepare me for was then climbing the next hill and the next one after that.
Training for the CDT has looked similar. Although now that I have more backpacking experience and am more advanced in my running, the goals of training have changed a little bit. Here’s what I’ve been up to in the last two months.
The good, the bad, and the technical. The prep that goes into long-distance hiking is not only a financial one but also a physical and mental one. The physical training associated with thru-hiking makes me unnaturally excited. So here’s my training plan:
Running
Running is my ultimate training tool. Over the entire year of 2024, I focused on building up endurance so that I could run my first ultra-marathon. Now that I know I can survive 50 miles, the focus of running has been to maintain that level of endurance and progress each run by adding verticality and weight.
Thankfully, I have some crazy friends who come up with crazy, awesome running ideas to keep us all motivated to train. When someone suggested running rim to rim to rim at the Grand Canyon, every cell of my body screamed yes, and that has become my muse for the next several months’ worth of training. And what better way to train for the CDT than to run/hike 45 miles with a day’s worth of fuel and water on your back?
Coming off an ultramarathon and the holidays, I have been steadily working myself up to running 30 miles a week. This is the first phase of training – building up a strong endurance base. I’ve prioritized good running form, incorporated hill training, and even included track workouts at least once a week to challenge my muscles in different ways. I emphasize trail running because, let’s be honest, it’s way more fun, but it’s also the best way to train my feet and ankles for the terrain to come.
On long runs, I’ve started to dial in my nutrition and hydration. I’ve added weight to my running vest in the form of extra water and little trinkets to make my body work a little harder. The intention is to suffer under controlled situations now so that when the day comes that I’m walking 20-30 miles with a backpack on, it will feel easier and less so like suffering. That’s my theory anyway. Even so, the bulk of weight-carrying training occurs when I’m not running, the miles I squeeze in during hikes.
The next phase of the training plan is to increase weekly mileage up to 40-50 miles and focus even more on weekly vertical gain.
Hiking
When I am not running, I am either walking my dog or hiking with my dog. I’m like Chris Traeger from Parks and Rec, “If I keep my body moving and my mind occupied at all times. I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.”
But in all seriousness, hiking is the ultimate test. I’ve been using the excuse of training to convince friends to join me on hikes around the Phoenix Valley. I’ve had a running list of hikes in Arizona to go on since moving 2 years ago. So starting early in January, I began checking them off. My dog Rei and I went up to Sedona after the holidays and spent a weekend hiking Bear Mountain at Sunrise and Wilson Mountain at Sunset.

The following weekend, I conned two friends into hiking the superstition ridgeline. That hike put my quads to the test since the trail goes up several thousand feet and then back down after nearly 10 miles along the ridgeline. Jelly legs and downhill rock hopping are a scary combination. Another group of people and I hiked the infamous Battleship Mountain the following weekend. This hike tested my ability to route find amongst dry creek beds and endless rock scrambles. But I loved it so much that I went back the following weekend and ran most of the route.


February was highlighted by a hike up Brown’s Peak (or Four Peaks as some may know it). However, I realized just how unprepared I could be because I actually did not finish this hike. I got within 100 feet of the summit and decided to turn around because daylight was limited and I hadn’t thought to consider that the temps at that elevation (about 7000 ft) would be freezing despite the valley temp below nearing 80. Cold fingers and rock climbing also don’t make for a very good combination.

Those 4 trips were a sufficient start to completing the list and gave me many opportunities to trial my legs on various terrains. I ended February with an overnight backpack trip to round out the first 2 months of the year. Aside from testing out some gear – tent, shoes, poles, sleep system – I got my real first chance at carrying some significant weight in a long while. And when I say significant weight, I mean that on top of carrying close to 20 pounds for the majority of the trip, I ended up carrying my 40-pound dog on my shoulders for the last few miles. Don’t worry, no Rei’s were harmed in the making of this backpacking trip.
All in all, January and February were optimal for knocking out some big hikes and putting my gear to the test.
Other Forms of Training
Biking has become a new form of training this year. With school projects and full-time working hours consuming more and more hiking/running time, I had to find another way to achieve a similar training effect without spending hours in the middle of nowhere where cell service was limited. As much as I crave the ability to be unreachable, it’s just not realistic right now. Biking became a way to fit in fitness training and simultaneously wear out my dog without spending hours running. (Rei can hang for 20 miles so imagine my surprise when a 20-minute fast bike ride wore her out for longer than one hour.)
An unexpected weekend of training occurred during the second to last week of February. I contracted norovirus. I somehow survived 2,193 miles on the AT without falling prey to the ails of Noro, where large sections of the trail had become wrought with illness. But after 8 weeks of working at a hospital and one poorly washed surface later, I’m sleeping with my head on the rim of my toilet for 12 hours and then fighting to stay hydrated and nourished for another 48. Now I can empathize with those who fell ill while thru-hiking. Hopefully, I never have to experience it again, and now more than ever am I aware of the dire need to have clean hands. But at least I understand the symptoms and signs to look out for so that if Noro strikes again, I can find the nearest bail-out point and get myself an IV and some Pepto Bismol.

Beyond staying active and figuring out how to survive near death by Noro, the last piece to the training puzzle has been relearning how to embrace the suck. I once had the physical and mental fortitude to tough it out through cold, wet days, but since I’ve moved to the desert, I’ve been spoiled. I’ve joked about being a lizard because, in the middle of a hot Arizona summer, my favorite place is a warm rock in the sun. But during the short winter months when the temps fall below 70, I limit my outdoor time to the middle of the day when the sun is high in the sky.
By the end of last year, I decided I had avoided feeling cold for too long and have been forcing myself to “be Bold, start cold” and “Embrace the suck”… with some success. I’m attempting to find comfort in goosebumps as well as trial clothing and other gear to make the inevitable cold and snow of the CDT more bearable.
January and February have been busy and fruitful. In March and April, things are going to ramp up, so stay tuned to see what’s coming next.
Affiliate Disclosure
This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!
To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.
Comments 2
Sounds like excellent training to me. Really impressed by your adventures! I’ll have to find my way to Arizona for some hiking sometime soon. Sounds amazing
The hiking in Arizona is special in its own ways! I’d love to show you around!!