When Training Isn't Just Training: When Overtraining Becomes Overworking

Sometimes the hardest thing isn't pushing yourself further. It's knowing when to stop.

We talk about training as though the hardest part is getting yourself to do it.

Getting out the door.
Getting the session done.
Running the extra mile.
Doing the extra rep.
Showing up when you're tired.

But what happens when showing up becomes something you can't switch off from?

When training isn't just training anymore?

When rest makes you uncomfortable. When missing a session feels like failure. When you're exhausted but still feel like you should be doing more.

That is where the conversation around overtraining becomes much bigger than sport.

Because the same mindset that can keep an athlete running through exhaustion can also keep someone working through a night shift, answering emails at midnight, caring for everyone else before themselves or constantly pushing their own needs to the bottom of the list.

Sometimes overtraining starts to look a lot like overworking.

The treadmill you can't get off

I've experienced the feeling of being on that treadmill.

Not necessarily because you want to keep going.

Because stopping feels harder.

You tell yourself you'll rest after this session.

Then after this week.

Then after the next race.

Then after you've hit the goal.

And suddenly there is always another reason to keep going.

This is where the language we use around discipline can become complicated.

We're often taught that being committed means never missing a session.

That being hardworking means pushing through.

That successful athletes are the ones who can tolerate more.

That tiredness is something to overcome.

But your body doesn't understand motivational quotes.

It understands stress, energy availability, recovery and load.

And training is a stressor.

Work is a stressor.

Poor sleep is a stressor.

Life is a stressor.

Emotional stress is a stressor.

Your body doesn't necessarily care whether the reason you're exhausted is because you ran 30 miles, worked a 12-hour shift, looked after a baby all night or spent ten hours on your feet at work.

It still has to meet the physiological demands being placed on it.

When more stops being more

There is a point where adding more training doesn't necessarily make you fitter.

You need recovery to adapt to training.

You need enough energy to support the work you're asking your body to do.

You need sleep.

You need carbohydrates.

You need protein.

You need micronutrients.

You need rest.

And sometimes you need to do less, not more.

This is particularly important when we talk about low energy availability and RED-S.

RED-S isn't simply about elite athletes training enormous amounts. It's about a mismatch between the energy available to the body and the energy it is using.

That can happen because someone is training more.

But it can also happen because they're eating less, missing meals, losing their appetite, working long hours, increasing their activity or simply not recognising how much energy their current life requires.

And sometimes several of those things happen at once.

What happens when training becomes another job?

Imagine an athlete training twice a day.

Then working.

Then commuting.

Then trying to fit in strength training.

Then preparing food.

Then answering messages.

Then trying to sleep.

Then waking up and doing it all again.

On paper, they might say:

“I'm training really hard.”

But their body is experiencing something closer to:

“I am under constant demand.”

This is why I think the conversation around fuelling has to move beyond the idea of sport.

Because you don't only need fuel when you're wearing running shoes.

You need fuel when you're working.

You need fuel when you're studying.

You need fuel when you're caring for someone.

You need fuel when you're awake through the night.

You need fuel when you're recovering.

And you need fuel on the days when you don't train.

Shift work is a perfect example

This is one of the reasons I'm so interested in the overlap between endurance sport and shift work.

A night shift can completely disrupt the routine we're normally told healthy eating should follow.

You might start work at 7pm.

Eat before you go.

Work through the night.

Have your appetite disappear at 2am.

Grab caffeine because you're exhausted.

Finish at 7am.

Get home.

Sleep.

Wake up and realise you've barely eaten.

Then do it again.

That's not a lack of discipline.

Your routine simply doesn't fit the standard three-meals-a-day lifestyle that most nutrition advice assumes.

And when you're tired, busy and working against your body clock, convenience becomes important.

This is where practical fuelling matters.

Not perfect fuelling.

Not Instagram fuelling.

Enough fuel to support the life you're actually living.

And then there is the burnout treadmill

The really difficult thing about burnout is that the solution can feel completely backwards.

When you're exhausted, you often want to finish everything before you allow yourself to stop.

You think:

I'll rest when I've caught up.

But the list never ends.

There is always another email.

Another training session.

Another deadline.

Another race.

Another shift.

Another person who needs something.

So you keep going.

And because you can keep going, you assume you should.

Until eventually your body starts making the decision for you.

Your performance drops.

Your mood changes.

Your sleep suffers.

Your motivation changes.

You become more irritable.

You stop enjoying the thing you used to love.

You feel tired but wired.

You need more caffeine.

You struggle to recover.

You may find yourself getting ill or injured more often.

And still the instinct can be:

“I just need to work harder.”

Sometimes that is exactly the moment to ask whether working harder is actually the answer.

Why stopping can feel so difficult

There is also something psychological happening here.

For many athletes, training becomes part of identity.

You're not just someone who runs.

You're a runner.

You're not just someone who cycles.

You're a cyclist.

You're not just someone who goes to the gym.

You're the person who never misses a session.

So resting doesn't just feel like resting.

It can feel like you're letting go of part of who you are.

The same thing happens with work.

Being busy can become part of your identity.

Being productive can feel valuable.

Saying yes can feel easier than saying no.

And suddenly doing nothing feels uncomfortable.

But rest isn't the opposite of productivity.

It is part of the system that allows you to continue.

Your body doesn't have separate accounts for stress

This is something I wish more people understood.

You can't necessarily put training stress in one box and everything else in another.

Your body doesn't have a little spreadsheet that says:

Training: 8/10
Work: 7/10
Life: 6/10

It experiences the combined load.

So if you're training for a marathon while working 50 hours a week, sleeping badly, travelling, skipping meals and dealing with significant life stress, your training plan doesn't exist in isolation.

Your body is experiencing all of it.

That's why the same training session can feel completely different depending on what else is happening in your life.

A 10km run after a good night's sleep, adequate food and a relatively calm week is not necessarily the same physiological experience as a 10km run after three nights of poor sleep, missed meals and twelve-hour shifts.

The distance is identical.

The context isn't.

This is where fuelling comes in

Fuelling isn't about earning food.

It isn't about being “good” enough to deserve a snack.

And it isn't about restricting food on days when you don't train.

Food is part of the input required to support what your body is doing.

If you're asking your body to train, work, think, recover, regulate hormones, maintain muscle, support your immune system and simply get through the day, it needs energy.

Carbohydrates are particularly important here because they are a major fuel source for exercise and the brain.

And yet carbohydrates are often the first thing people become afraid of when they start thinking about “clean eating” or performance.

I think we need to flip that conversation.

Carbohydrates aren't the problem. Under-fuelling is.

And sometimes the most practical thing you can do is simply make eating easier.

A snack in your bag.

Something before a shift.

Something after training.

Something you can eat when you don't have the appetite for a huge meal.

Something that doesn't require a kitchen, a blender or a perfectly planned day.

Because nutrition has to work in real life.

The signs aren't always dramatic

We often imagine that burnout or overtraining will arrive as one huge moment.

But sometimes the signs are subtle.

You might notice:

• You're constantly tired but still can't slow down.

• You feel guilty when you rest.

• Training feels compulsory rather than enjoyable.

• You're doing more but performing less.

• You're increasingly reliant on caffeine.

• You're struggling to eat regularly.

• Your appetite has changed.

• You're not recovering between sessions.

• You're becoming more irritable or withdrawn.

• You're getting injured or ill more frequently.

• You're thinking about training, work or productivity constantly.

• You can't remember the last time you had a genuinely easy day.

None of these signs automatically mean someone has overtraining syndrome, RED-S or burnout.

But they can be reasons to pause and look at the bigger picture.

Sometimes stopping is the training

This is probably the biggest lesson I've had to learn.

There are times when the most productive thing you can do for tomorrow is stop today.

Eat.

Sleep.

Sit down.

Take the day off.

Miss the session.

Have the snack.

Go home.

Say no.

And actually recover.

Because the goal isn't to see how much stress your body can tolerate.

The goal is to build a body and a life that can keep doing the things you love.

That means thinking about longevity, not just today's session.

Not just the next race.

Not just the next promotion.

Not just this week's numbers.

You don't have to earn your rest

There is a strange contradiction in endurance culture.

We can become incredibly good at enduring discomfort while becoming incredibly bad at recognising when discomfort is telling us something important.

We celebrate the person who keeps going.

But sometimes resilience looks completely different.

Sometimes resilience is saying:

“This isn't working anymore.”

Sometimes it is asking for help.

Sometimes it is changing the training plan.

Sometimes it is taking a rest day.

Sometimes it is eating more.

Sometimes it is admitting that work, training and life have collectively become too much.

And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is get off the treadmill.

Not because you've failed.

Because you want to be able to get back on tomorrow.

Training for life, not just performance

This is ultimately why I care so much about Fuel Without Fear.

Fuelling isn't just about hitting a carbohydrate target before a race.

It's about understanding that your body deserves energy whether you're running a marathon or working a night shift.

Whether you're training hard or taking a rest day.

Whether you're preparing for childbirth, caring for a newborn, studying for exams, working a physical job or simply trying to get through a difficult week.

Your body is still doing work.

And work requires fuel.

So maybe the question shouldn't always be:

“How much more can I do?”

Maybe sometimes it's:

“What does my body need from me today?”

And if the answer is food, rest, recovery or stopping?

That's not weakness.

That's listening.

Fuel the sport you love for life. But also fuel the life around it.