Today’s run was that seesaw between going hard and taking a breather – an interval workout. It was one of those mornings with double kid drop off so I didn’t even get started until two hours after I woke up. Sometimes this is tough as I’m pretty hungry by then and sometimes taxed by the cat herding that school mornings tend to entail, but it was not much of a mental hurdle on that front today. Maybe because the kids were easy this morning, or because I had a decent snack right before sleep last night? I may not know why but it was pretty nice!
My run went well. I bumped up my hard pace a smidge and smashed out my miles feeling strong. Media consumption today was the Forgotten Bakes week of The Great British Baking Show, featuring clangers, rum nickies, and savoy cakes. It comes as little surprise that I had never heard of any of these before this episode. If I had they wouldn’t really qualify as forgotten bakes. Watching the bakers chop up a ridiculous volume of dates for the technical challenge was mouth-watering. Dates are so delicious, so chewy and sweet. Whenever I see dates, though, I’m reminded of a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. A nefarious villain attempts to bump off the protagonist by pouring poison on a bowl of dates at his host’s house. A curious monkey makes off with one of the dates and succumbs to the poison, and the host sees the dead animal’s body just as Indiana is flipping a date into his mouth. The host catches the fruit in mid air, commenting “Bad dates.” Here’s hoping there are no “bad dates” in the tent, or in my kitchen!
While the bakers were baking and I was running hard, then easy, then hard, I was also thinking about confidence and perseverance. When I run a hard effort, whether that’s speed, incline, or distance, I often hit a point of challenge when I want to just ease up. When I was newer to running this caused me a lot of anxiety. I felt like I couldn’t make it, but desperately wanted to make it, and my body and mind fought against each other. I remember how my chest would tighten up, making it harder to breathe and exacerbating the cycle. Harder to breathe, harder to run, more panic, urge to stop, desire to not stop, and on it went. Sometimes I would push through and feel like I was successful, but physically I was spent. Not just from the effort itself but from the stress hormones that had flooded my body as I went through the struggle of anxiety. I did not feel good, despite having nominally reached my goal. Other times I would stop, either entirely ditching the run or just giving up on the planned workout and muddling through the rest of the time. This felt better physically (sometimes) but I felt I had failed at my run. I did not feel confident in my running, but rather defeated by my own lack of ability. Perceived lack of ability, that is.
Over time, I have shifted my focus to my experience in the moment. Instead of thinking of the workout as a whole, I think of what I’m doing right now, what I’m feeling right now, how my body and mind are faring right now. Of course, this isn’t in a vacuum. I go into each run with a plan, with a goal already set. It may be an interval workout like today, or maybe just a distance or time goal with no other performance concerns. By having that framework established ahead of time, I free myself to be in the moment throughout my run. There is no need to make command decisions – the game plan is already in place. All I have to do is execute it and experience it. Once I made this shift, it became much easier to overcome difficult moments in my runs. When my legs are burning, when my feet are tired, when a difficult emotion bubbles up, I can address it immediately without worrying about how it will impact my run. And I can work through it.
When the resistance that arises is small, I pep talk myself through it. My daughter was in cheerleading for about two minutes once upon a time, and I still remember some of the chants. When I run these through my head, swapping out my name for the team name, I can’t help but laugh. It’s hard to take a little discomfort seriously when you’ve got “Well, it all started out at the football game / When the coach called (your name here) to do her thing!” going through your head.
When the resistance is medium, I give myself a reminder of my strength. I internally talk to myself like an encouraging friend, or coach, or person at the aid station would. I call myself by my name or at least use the second person voice. You can do it, you’ve got this! Looking good, girl! Head up, shoulders back, nice form!
And when the resistance is great, I count seconds. I count footsteps. I focus on each individual instant and count each footstep as a success. Eventually these miniscule victories add up and the resistance starts to ease. The stress, whether it is physical or emotional, starts to abate, and I de-escalate. I go back to reminders of my awesomeness maybe once every ten or twenty seconds and gradually stretch those intervals. Then I find my mind wandering to other places, or I re-engage with Kate as she cracks open five dozen eggs for her savoy cake. Maybe I need to go through the pep talk phase again, this time patting myself on the back for getting through that tough patch.
When I finish my run, I feel fantastic. Physically I may be tired but it is a tiredness that comes from fully utilizing my body’s capabilities rather than drowning it in stress signals. Emotionally, I feel accomplished and inspired by my own strength. Mentally, I feel clear minded and energized to take on whatever challenge comes next. Each day that I experience this, my confidence grows a little more. I take that confidence into the next workout and it’s a little easier to persevere. I’m now in a positive growth cycle, rather than a negative downward spiral of anxiety, self-judging, and defeat. I am stronger now for having gone through the challenge than if I had never started the run in the first place.
All of these skills that I have picked up in my time as a runner, that I have developed and honed to work for me, stay with me in other parts of my life. When one of my children is having a hard time, I can stay calm and strong knowing I can get through the stress of parenting. If a project for work is difficult, and in my line of work we are often pushing boundaries, I can get myself past the initial panic feeling of “I can’t do this” and go on to tackle the task. At the grocery store, when the self-checkout line is ridiculously long, I can focus on the moment and think about something constructive rather than think about the whole chunk of time I am wasting and descending into frustration. And just like the experience of a difficult run helps me to appreciate a smooth, easy one, I can appreciate the times when life is humming along without much to complain about. I can even, one second at a time, one mental footstep at a time, move through the hard times to get to a place of calm much faster and with less distress. I can persevere with confidence.