Attitude
I've come to the conclusion that the success and failure of my runs is far more mental than physical. If I think I'm running well, I run well. If I have a couple of bad runs I start to crumble mentally, and they get worse and worse.
Last year, this manifested itself in the walk break. I knew that where I started from, finishing a marathon at all would be an achievement, however I managed that. I let myself have walk breaks, but not in a structured way. On long runs I'd get to a hill and walk up it to get my breath back. Nothing wrong with that as such, but I noticed that I started thinking of certain hills as "walking hills", even on short runs, and even though I knew I could run up them perfectly happily. And as I started running slower, I thought "well, at least I'll finish", and didn't make the effort to try to maintain any speed. On the day itself, the dodgy stomach wasn't the only problem. There was also the fact that my race plan was effectively "run as far as you can, then finish", and once I started walking, it was hard to run again. OK, it hurt, but it wouldn't have hurt that much more, and the pain would have gone on for less time...
This year I want to run the marathon. OK, there might be reasons why I can't on the day, but I don't want to take walk breaks in training. They disrupt my rhythm and they mean I set my standards lower than they need to be.
The past two days have been perfect examples. Yesterday I ran home from work at lunchtime to let an alarm maintenance guy into the house (having considered my options I worked out that the fastest means of "transport" to get home would be to run, on the basis I'd be going back into work later anyway so I could pick up my stuff). It's just under 5 miles, but coming home it's almost entirely uphill. Going to work would be far more pleasant! About half way back I really wanted to stop and get the bus (running to a bus stop on the route and then getting the bus would have been quicker than running all the way, even if running all the way was quicker than walking to the bus stop). I had to really tell myself that I could run that hill, I took it bus stop by bus stop and was so happy when my bus went past with me on the wrong side of the road and between stops. I knew then that if I waited for the next one I may as well run the rest of the route home. And I did, without any problems. My mind was telling me to stop even though my legs were clearly able to cope with it.
The same again today. Yesterday I actually ran 8 miles, with my normal treadmill speed session on top of the run home, and that's a lot before a long run (but equally, doing a long run on Sunday isn't great before club night on Monday). I went out today with the aim of doing about 15, but after 5 I hit a hill and was struggling mentally. I ran exactly the same hill last week on my long run, but today I just wanted to pack it all in and try again tomorrow. Luckily I was in the middle of the countryside nowhere near a bus route, and would have to run a few miles to get back to somewhere I could get home from, so I carried on - and promptly ran another 10 miles, including a hill I've never managed to run all the way up, and slightly faster than my 15 miler last week. Again, I was capable of the run, but my mind was telling me it was too hard and it wasn't worth it.
I think for the shorter runs, success depends on natural ability, and speedwork and stuff like that, but for the longer runs there's far more time for your mind to get involved. Particularly when your mind is telling you that you're not a natural athlete, and that this is a really stupid idea. What's wrong with walking part of it? It's still more than most people could manage.
I've noticed how the confidence at Brass Monkey really helped me in club runs since, and I'm trying to find a way to turn off the whingeing, why can't I give up now, part of my brain and just go with the motivated, I will run all the way part. At least I know who I'm listening to now, and I know that if I can ignore it for 5 minutes, or for 10, it will go away as soon as I hit a downhill or an easier stretch. But as anyone who examines my eating habits would be able to tell you, I'm still often tempted by the stuff my inner fat girl puts in my mind, and I don't want her to mess up my marathon.
Last year, this manifested itself in the walk break. I knew that where I started from, finishing a marathon at all would be an achievement, however I managed that. I let myself have walk breaks, but not in a structured way. On long runs I'd get to a hill and walk up it to get my breath back. Nothing wrong with that as such, but I noticed that I started thinking of certain hills as "walking hills", even on short runs, and even though I knew I could run up them perfectly happily. And as I started running slower, I thought "well, at least I'll finish", and didn't make the effort to try to maintain any speed. On the day itself, the dodgy stomach wasn't the only problem. There was also the fact that my race plan was effectively "run as far as you can, then finish", and once I started walking, it was hard to run again. OK, it hurt, but it wouldn't have hurt that much more, and the pain would have gone on for less time...
This year I want to run the marathon. OK, there might be reasons why I can't on the day, but I don't want to take walk breaks in training. They disrupt my rhythm and they mean I set my standards lower than they need to be.
The past two days have been perfect examples. Yesterday I ran home from work at lunchtime to let an alarm maintenance guy into the house (having considered my options I worked out that the fastest means of "transport" to get home would be to run, on the basis I'd be going back into work later anyway so I could pick up my stuff). It's just under 5 miles, but coming home it's almost entirely uphill. Going to work would be far more pleasant! About half way back I really wanted to stop and get the bus (running to a bus stop on the route and then getting the bus would have been quicker than running all the way, even if running all the way was quicker than walking to the bus stop). I had to really tell myself that I could run that hill, I took it bus stop by bus stop and was so happy when my bus went past with me on the wrong side of the road and between stops. I knew then that if I waited for the next one I may as well run the rest of the route home. And I did, without any problems. My mind was telling me to stop even though my legs were clearly able to cope with it.
The same again today. Yesterday I actually ran 8 miles, with my normal treadmill speed session on top of the run home, and that's a lot before a long run (but equally, doing a long run on Sunday isn't great before club night on Monday). I went out today with the aim of doing about 15, but after 5 I hit a hill and was struggling mentally. I ran exactly the same hill last week on my long run, but today I just wanted to pack it all in and try again tomorrow. Luckily I was in the middle of the countryside nowhere near a bus route, and would have to run a few miles to get back to somewhere I could get home from, so I carried on - and promptly ran another 10 miles, including a hill I've never managed to run all the way up, and slightly faster than my 15 miler last week. Again, I was capable of the run, but my mind was telling me it was too hard and it wasn't worth it.
I think for the shorter runs, success depends on natural ability, and speedwork and stuff like that, but for the longer runs there's far more time for your mind to get involved. Particularly when your mind is telling you that you're not a natural athlete, and that this is a really stupid idea. What's wrong with walking part of it? It's still more than most people could manage.
I've noticed how the confidence at Brass Monkey really helped me in club runs since, and I'm trying to find a way to turn off the whingeing, why can't I give up now, part of my brain and just go with the motivated, I will run all the way part. At least I know who I'm listening to now, and I know that if I can ignore it for 5 minutes, or for 10, it will go away as soon as I hit a downhill or an easier stretch. But as anyone who examines my eating habits would be able to tell you, I'm still often tempted by the stuff my inner fat girl puts in my mind, and I don't want her to mess up my marathon.
posted by YP at 7:09 PM
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