
(Photo: Getty Images)
A few months back, I decided this was going to be the year of my best running glow-up yet. My plan was simple: I was going to become the perfect runner with absolutely no junk miles as I built my aerobic base back up from what felt like nothing.
I was coming off a bit of a running slump, with on-and-off overuse injuries plaguing the last few years of on-and-off running. I knew something needed to change in my training. And since my job has included writing about how to avoid these pitfalls for nearly 10 years, I knew it was time to take my own advice. No more grinding through seven-day training weeks with no time spent on recovery. No more speedwork after hours of playing tennis. And most importantly, I was going to slow my easy training miles down. Like way down. According to the infallible internet, Zone 2 training was the way to go.
The posts I saw and tried to emulate said that Zone 2 was 60% to 70% of my maximum heart rate. To make it foolproof, I knew I could depend on my watch, which showed this zone as the green zone. As someone who likes guardrails, I felt like these numbers and colors would be the way back to running my best. The problem, though, was finding that green zone pace was exceedingly difficult. And when I went to find out WTF was wrong with me, it turned out that everything I thought I knew about Zone 2 training was wrong.
When I started my noble Zone 2 endeavor, I used a run-walk program, which made it easy to keep my heart rate down.
But when I graduated to all running, I noticed the numbers on my watch creeping up to the Zone 3 range. Or, even more annoyingly, random events would make my heart rate jump to the tippy top of the orange zone and ruin everything.
I started tracking when this happened to find a pattern. But my lists just made it more frustrating. No matter how slow I started, my heart rate on easy runs would jump:
My Zone 2 social media comrades were experiencing similar results. (My favorite Instagram reel shows a runner being passed by a centenarian using a walker while trying to achieve the perfect Zone 2 run.)
But could this be right? Was I really so de-trained that my body couldn’t handle 20 minutes of an 11:30-minute-per-mile pace when my old training pace was closer to 8:30 per mile? I felt like I could run faster and for longer, but apparently, my heart was saying no. I wondered if something was wrong. I also wondered if this was how running was supposed to be—because man, it was miserable.

Luckily, I knew just the person to help. I sent a quick text to my exercise physiologist-friend Scott Browning, who is an expert running coach and owner of Run With A Pro. I explained that my heart was exploding out of Zone 2 range even when running at great-grandma pace.
We connected on a call, and before I could even start complaining about the perils of slow running, he explained that the internet was royally effing up the definition of Zone 2 training, and I’d fallen into the trap.
“Zone 2 is not a heart rate state. It’s a metabolic state,” he says. “It’s highly, highly individualized. Just using straight heart rate and a straight heart rate formula is not going to yield an accurate result.”
So what is the real Zone 2? “Zone 2 is defined as LT1 [lactate turnpoint one],” he says. “Or VT1—basically the first jump in ventilation, where your blood lactate levels stay below 2, so you’re not accumulating blood lactate; you’re clearing it.”
In layman’s terms, Zone 2 is an effort level where your body is working steadily but comfortably. You’ll breathe a little harder, but it won’t be a struggle. And your muscles will produce a small amount of fatigue byproduct (lactate), but it doesn’t build up.
Browning says that heart rate is one of the metrics you can use to “sort of eyeball it,” but that Zone 2 can only really be truly determined by going to a lab and having a metabolic test or lactate threshold test. Most runners don’t have easy access to this type of thing, which is why heart rate has become an acceptable—albeit flawed—metric for determining your zone. (Browning also recommends a field test you can do, which you can check out here.)
“This is where the watches kill you,” Browning says, “because they are taking an assumption that it’s a percentage of max heart rate without accounting for other important variables.”
Meaning two runners can have the same heart rate and aerobic capacity and still require very different Zone 2 paces. Browning gives me an example of two athletes. For Athlete 1, he uses himself in peak form. “My lactate threshold where I could sustain a half marathon was, say 5:15 a mile.”
Then, he uses a hypothetical runner, Athlete 2, who has the same aerobic profile as Browning, but his half-marathon lactate threshold pace is 6:15 per mile because his running economy is vastly different.
If you were to assign both runners the same Zone 2 based purely on heart-rate data, it would completely miss those differences. It would be either comedically slow for Browning, or it would be so fast for Athlete 2 that his blood lactate would be rising, and he wouldn’t be able to continue running.
Browning says the straight heart rate formula will not yield an accurate result for basically anybody. Which, he suspects, accounts for my—and the running internet’s—confusion and frustration.
The other, more nuanced point that many runners are missing is that Zone 2 isn’t accessible to novice runners. Even experienced runners making a comeback won’t be able to get into Zone 2 right away. That’s because, Browning explains, it’s not simply conversational pace. And, he continues, “Contrary to the literature on social media, it is not just this guilt-producing slow running.”
It’s an earned metabolic state, he says, that cannot be achieved by new runners because they don’t have the running economy.
“It takes a long, long time and a huge base underneath you,” Browning says. “Like any skill in sport, it’s learned. We have to build those metabolic pathways. We’ve got to build running economy and efficiency, and we have to build the musculoskeletal system.”
He explains that the build to achieve Zone 2 could take as little as two to three months, but to really train in it and benefit from it could take years.
So OK, true Zone 2 training was maybe a few months away for me. But the concept of Heart Rate Zone 2 seemed like it should be the gold standard for determining my training pace, right? If anything, it would feed my data-hungry soul. I still wondered why my heart rate was so high and jumpy on what were supposed to be easy runs.
I reached out to Dr. Jason Tso, M.D, who is a board-certified cardiologist with Stanford’s Sports Cardiology Program and the Center for Inherited Cardiovascular Disease. Tso, who is also a runner, is aware of the online conversations around lower-intensity training. But heart rate training has its own pitfalls, he explained, mostly because our equations and watches are flawed.
In fact, our watches really cannot be trusted at all. “A lot of times, those numbers are not really your heart rate; it’s cadence lock. The watch moves with you and picks that up as heart rate.”
Chest straps are more accurate and could be useful, but only if we really know what our heart rate max actually is.
“Everyone says 220 minus age, but the standard deviation is about 10 points … so it’s actually 220 minus age plus or minus 20,” Tso says. “If you’re using that and then getting strict percentages based on it, it could be totally off because different individuals hit those thresholds at different percentages. Without an exercise test, it’s pretty hard to say for sure where you really are just based on these numbers.”
For crying out loud.
So what is a runner to do? “You shouldn’t be ruining all your runs by thinking you’re going too fast when it feels easy.”
Tso says that heart rate should only be one metric to pay attention to. Other than that, your rate of perceived exertion (RPE) might be the best way to determine how fast to go on your easy runs.
“You go until you start huffing and puffing a little bit, but you’re still kind of OK—that’s actually a pretty good estimation,” Tso says.
With that in mind, I went out to my favorite running path, where I have landmarks that mark miles. I left my watch at home. I tuned into my cadence and my breath and ran 3 miles at what was probably about a 9:30 pace. I felt good. I recorded my RPE on paper—around a 4. The next day, I did it again.
After eight weeks of torturing myself with what I thought was the “right” way to run, clocking miles at a pace that physically hurt, I finally felt free. Running felt like running again. All it took was two experts and the confidence to trust my gut and not just the beats per minute on my watch (which were probably wrong anyway).