Doing a lot of solo training gives me copious amounts of
time to ruminate with my thoughts. This past Sunday I happened to be doing a 2
hour long run alone and made some minor revelations. These thoughts revolved
around the idea that every aspect of running is a battle against one’s self. I
feel any endurance athlete with agree with this philosophy, whereas other
athletes rely more on skill and the precise execution of a planned routine to
succeed in their respective sports. All professional athletes are blessed with
a certain amount of talent, but that amount may vary from person to person and
does not necessarily dictate performance. There are numerous accounts of highly
ranked athletes crumpling under the physical or mental pressure of their sport
and being outperformed by a “less talented” individual. So what is it then that
decides how successful one can be as an athlete or more specifically, a runner?
And here in, the battle begins.
As a runner, your battle goes far deeper than going head to
head with your competition. The battle is fought on a daily basis, sometimes
multiple times a day. Different people are going to battle with different
things, but overall every runner will face similar challenges. The more
prestigious your aspirations, the more battles you will have to fight. These
past few months I have made some major lifestyle adjustments and the transition
was anything but easy. More recently, I feel I can pinpoint three battles I have
fought and all three have different outcomes.
The Victory
I have never, in almost ten years of running, been more
proud of the training I have done the last five months. After I graduated, ran
the Colorado Marathon, and joined the Boulder Track Club a new level of
determination took hold. I can look back and watch myself get more and more
focused on my goals, adjusting my daily life to best suit my running needs. And
this has involved battling against myself countless times. From getting out the
door for a run to hardly ever staying up past 9:30pm, every day I make choices
and they are not always easy. I will say that over time, the battle of just
getting out the door has gotten significantly easier, however there are still
days when the unmentionable thoughts of “just skip your run for today” seep
into my conscious. But rarely do I give those ideas a second thought. Anyone
who knows me can attest to the fact that I have never been one to do a lot of
extra work. I did what I was required to do, and that was about it. If I could
have gotten a glimpse of myself a few years ago I think I would have been
astonished by the amount self-driven work I am doing. I get up and do my
ab/core routine three days a week. This typically means waking up at 5am. I eat
what I consider to be exceptionally healthy food and have cut out many of the
staples of my previous diet. I go to bed very early and frequently take naps.
And I follow my coach’s running schedule. And every one of those things takes a
minor battle inside my head to happen. Right now I’m in a groove and the
battles are small. But I secretly dread losing hold on the routine I have
created for myself. I know the feeling all too well: constant guilt and
negativity nagging 24 hours a day. In the past I’ve even found myself feeling
stabs of jealousy towards other athletes who are getting their work done and
making it look so easy. I lose sight of the fact that they are battling to make
those things happen just as much as I am. It is these little battles fought
every day that shape the runner you are. They determine your fitness and your
mental toughness. And therefore give you confidence. Not confidence that you
will be able to beat your competition, but confidence that you will be able to
run faster, longer, and stronger than ever before. I can say with confidence
that I am more fit now than I have ever been before in my life. And I can tell
you it is because the little victories I am having in my training every single
day.
The Stalemate
I know that actually running is just the tip of the iceberg
when it comes to being an elite runner. It is, of course, the essential
component, but constitutes only a piece of a giant puzzle. To be the best you
can be you have to act intentionally in every area of your life you can
control. And one of the largest areas of our lives we can control is what we
eat. I have heard numerous cautionary tales journeys down a road that can turn
into a dark and tangled mess but have generally shrugged them off, because
let’s face it- I love to cook and I love to eat. Quite frankly, I have also
been scared of the result taking a more controlled approach to eating would have
on me. And I see now, it was for good reason. I absolutely hate to admit it,
but I am on the verge of what I would consider disordered eating. Let’s clarify
that this is not an eating disorder. I NEVER throw up food I have eaten, and I
never resist the urge to eat when I am hungry. I know that my performance
depends on my body getting enough to eat and limiting myself could do far more
harm than good. That being said, I keep a food log of everything I eat. It
varies in detail as I sort of phase in and out of what I would consider “bad”
periods. As an example, I recorded calories for a while, but realized that it
was driving me crazy, so I stopped. Then there are times when I convince myself
to cut back on certain food items or limit them more rigorously. Recently, I
decided it was important for me to cut back on fat. While this may not be a red
flag to anyone following the typical American diet, the only fats I eat are in
lean meat, extra virgin olive oil, coconut oil, almond butter, and nuts. Most
of which are considered very healthy fats. Therefore it may constitute being
labeled as disordered eating for me. It is a battle that I am not proud of
having to fight, but I also feel is fairly common throughout the running world.
People want to run fast; losing weight usually results in faster running. I can
only say I have upheld this rumor, but also can identify several other reasons
why I have gotten faster. But once the seed is planted, it is like a weed as it
takes over your thoughts. Instead of worrying about how you can be most
productive in your training, you start thinking about losing a few more pounds.
Just one or two maybe, that’s all… And another part of your brain retorts “NO!”
You have already lost weight, you will probably lose more over time and
training. You don’t need the scale to read lighter to be faster. Isn’t muscle
heavier than fat anyways? And you have definitely developed more muscle. No,
you just need to train hard and eat enough of the right foods. Of course, this
is what the battle sounds like in my head. And sometimes I win, other times I
lose. When I lose I eat just enough to be full, snack on carrots and cut back
on dried fruit and nuts, cut out all egg yolks, things like that. And like I
stated before, I tend to go through phases. One week I will be under the
delusion that I need to cut back, other weeks I will eat an extra serving of something
just because it is good. This is why I deem this battle a stalemate. Thankfully,
I feel that my awareness of the situation will keep me out of doing any
permanent damage. The fact that I can consciously talk about the problem means
it is not going unnoticed, and I am confident that I have people who would interfere
if I needed it. I am also queen of listening to my body. I have no problem
turning around early on a run, cutting a workout short, or taking a day off
because rest and recovery are just as important as getting the work in, and in
certain situations more important. If my body is telling me to stop, I believe
it is for good reason and I listen. Thus, I listen to my body when it comes to
food as well. I make sure I eat big meals after hard sessions and long runs and
I ALWAYS eat if I am hungry. It might just be a matter of what and how much…
and here we go again.
The Defeat (or maybe another victory, who knows?)
A few weekends ago, I ran a race in Colorado Springs and
finished just three seconds behind my teammate who I revere as a highly worthy
opponent. I can relate well with her, as she was slightly better than me in
college, but was not a national standout. We both grew up in Colorado and raced
against each other in high school. Regardless of our past, I see her now as a
role model and greatly respect her accomplishments in the past year. This was
only the second race I have run against her. But we have both been getting
results for the past few months. We have worked out together on occasion, but I
am usually behind her. The point is, I have mentally placed her ahead of me in
team ranking order you could say. This past race was pleasantly eye opening to
the idea that she may not be as far ahead of me as I imagined and our position
may flex back and forth. This is my dream situation of course! Having someone
who will always push you but will also encourage you, it is the beauty of being
part of a team. As it stands, she has beaten me twice and run almost every
workout faster than I have. And then we have the idea of another battle hanging
out there. Well this battle I speak of isn’t one against my teammate, it is yet
another battle against myself. The battle I fight every time I race.
Less sensitive people looked at the results from our most
recent race and asked me “could you have beaten her?” What a loaded question
these five words create. There are so many unknown and uncontrollable factors
that go into a race and the only way to determine the outcome is by racing. But
there is one thing every runner can control: their effort. That may well be the
ONLY thing a runner has control of during a race. Therefore, it is the only
thing that should be evaluated. Getting caught up in the hypothetical lands you
in a fantasy, where you win every race you run alone. Start thinking about the
could have, would have, and should haves and you begin inching out onto very
thin ice indeed. Answer those prompts incorrectly and you risk doing a lot of
damage to your reputation. Someone asks could you have beaten her? I say did
you look at the results? Who won? And there is your answer: No. There is
something wonderful about the simplicity of a running race. There is always a
winner. There are no grey areas for if’s, and’s, or but’s. You either win or
you don’t. Nothing could be more definite. But what results don’t show are all
the other underlying factors that go into a race. Was your strategy effective
and actually executed? Did you fight your body when it wanted to quit? Did you
push yourself to your limit and leave everything out on the course? Those are
things only you can know. And don’t always reflect a win in a race. You can
have the best race of your life and end up 7th or 18th or
24th. It all depends on who you are racing. But I am getting off
track. This is supposed to be about why I feel I lost a battle against myself
and how to address a difficult question. After I race, I try my best to only
worry about my performance and what it meant to me. I reflect on all the
mistakes I made in my race and what I can do differently the next time I step
on the line. I reflect on the success I had so I can try to replicate it in the
future. Always move forward, never, ever look back. If only I had done… Well
you didn’t. Especially when you are comparing yourself to other people,
thinking this way can be a slippery slope. If only I had held on, I could have
outkicked her. I ask you- how in the world do you know you would have? You have
no idea what she was capable of. By staking a claim like that, you insult your
competition by lowering their status below yours. You also disrespect them by
claiming they beat you when you didn’t give your best effort, taking value away
from their victory. The thought literally makes me sick. And some may not
understand, but by asking that question of “could you have” insults the athlete
they may be trying to complement in the first place. Because, again, it implies
that they did not give the race their best effort and what could be more
insulting that telling someone they didn’t try hard enough. No one else will
ever know what you experience mentally and physically in a race, other than
yourself. How hard you pushed yourself and how much pain you withstood. Now let
me tie it all together. If ever asked the question “could you have… done
something” I respond by turning the attention away from that idea and onto
myself. Maybe I didn’t feel I followed my strategy well. Or maybe I started my
kick to late. Or maybe I just felt like shit and that is that. I can only
comment on the lessons learned and things I (CAPITAL BOLD FACED ITALICS
UNDERLINED ‘I’) can do in the future to improve my performance. I can assume my
competition will be doing the same exact thing, which adds an element of
mystery and excitement to the outcome of future races. And in my last race I
feel like I did some things really well: I responded to moves, hung with my
teammate, and tried to challenge her which lead us both to a faster race. I
also feel like there were things I didn’t do very well. Specifically, I feel I
mentally limited myself based off of my preconceived notions of my teammate and
her performances. I was scared to make too much of a move on her, because
(heaven forbid!!) she might respond. She might fight back and make me hurt
more. And we all know how afraid human beings are of pain. In a sense, I might
fail in my attempt to beat her. Well shit. If everyone raced like that then the
Olypmics would get pretty boring pretty fast. What I am taking away from the
situation is that I finished only three seconds behind a very good runner whom
I greatly respect and who I know works her ass off. When we race again, I can
only prepare to be a tougher competitor myself. And I can guarantee it will
make us both better athletes. Am I
pleased with my effort in this past race? Yes. Can I work on being mentally
tougher and testing my physical limits more? Yes. Will that yield the results I
want? Who the hell knows. All I know is that I am the only one who can run my
race and I judge myself off of effort. The time, the place they tell a very
limited story of a race that was run from the heart. And if my heart is
satisfied, so am I.
So there you have it. Three battles I have had against
myself. And you thought runner’s only fought their hardest the last lap of the
race. For me the battle against another is really a battle within yourself. You
ask your body if it can hurt more and it will respond either yes or no. The
strength to win that battle begins every morning, when your alarm clock rings
long before the sun has risen. Every small battle you win will only strengthen
you for when you have to fight against the physical pain of racing. These
battles will shape who you become as an athlete. And the choice is within your
control. You are the captain of your ship; you are the writer of your destiny.
e.
very cool ellie! Nice perspectives :)
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