Things I've learned from running

Across 2013, 2014 and 2015, I ran the Bridge to Brisbane - a 10 kilometre fun-run - three times. I even managed to improve my time over the three events. I'm reflecting on this transition as I've started getting back into running again over the past 12 months, and realising the life lessons I have learned in developing this activity.

Prior to 2013 I had never run 10 kilometres before. EVER. The most I'd managed was 6 kilometres and that had been just once in high school, many years earlier. And while I'd competed in cross country all the way through high school, my running had seriously sucked. I wanted to win but struggled to run the whole distance. My mind had unrealistic expectations of my performance and my body simply refused to comply!

So a couple of decades later, I was able to run 10 kilometres. What did I do differently to get there?

Firstly, I changed my mindset.

When I was younger, I thought I had to win every race I ran. One would think that this would be a great motivator to achieve but it ended up having the opposite effect: I would push too hard at the beginning and then not have enough energy to get to the finish line without walking. And multiple experiences of almost coming last were quite discouraging.

In order to start becoming a better runner I had to:

• Redefine what winning looked like for me, based on a realistic assessment of what I could do rather than what I wanted to achieve. This meant letting go of expectations of what I thought my performance SHOULD be and learning to enjoy the activity of running for its own sake. The discovery of what I could do and where each run took me started to become the focus, which took the pressure off and made running more exciting. This also increased my capacity to recognise and celebrate my improvements.
• Resist comparing my performance with someone else's. This became incredibly important when I started running with others in 2013! The trap I had fallen into in high school was measuring myself against other runners, which meant that my goalposts were constantly shifting. When I reconnected with running back in 2010, it helped that I was running mostly on my own as it forced me to pay attention to what worked for me. Running alone also forced me to find a more objective way to measure and record my performance so I was actually comparing apples to apples. It also helped me to choose my own goals rather than allow others to set them for me.
• Allow myself to have 'bad' days. Some days my body just would not cooperate with my agenda to improve my distance or time or both, and my runs would be sluggish or shorter than I'd hoped. Stepping back and viewing the a 'bad' run in light of evidence of many other 'good' ones helped give me perspective and take pressure off individual runs.
• Train my mind to encourage me in my attempts rather than to drive me to be always doing better. I noticed that my self-talk could be destructive and de-motivating if I let it. I also discovered that if I told myself that I would reassess at a defined landmark and give myself the option to stop that usually my body could go further. Sometimes I would find myself talking to my legs or my lungs or my hips, telling them what a great job they were doing and urging them to just go a bit further. Usually my body would respond well, and if it didn't, I learned to congratulate it for what it had managed to do.

Secondly, I worked with what my body COULD do.

After many years of not running, I had to start small and recondition my body to the rigours and the discipline of the activity. Paying attention to what my body was telling me was crucial in learning what my body needed as I ran, how far I could push it, and what would help in my recovery.

I learned that I needed to strengthen my whole body, not just my legs, in order to engage with running well. This included making sure that my diet supported my increasing fitness. In addition, investing in appropriate footwear for my feet and some running attire also seemed to communicate to my mind and my body that I was serious about running.

Initially the most I could manage was about 2 kilometres and it took a couple of years to build up to the 5 kilometre runs that I knew I had once been able to do. Getting over 5 and 6 kilometres was a psychological hurdle that took time to overcome, but once I got there it was easier to progress to 7, 8 and 9 kilometre runs. However, I faced the same hurdle in getting into double-digit runs. Indeed, I faced my first Bridge-to-Brisbane not having experienced completing a 10 kilometre run and was nervous as the most I'd been able to do at that point was 9.6 kilometres. That sounds silly now but at the time I had no evidence to say that I was really capable of completing the last 400 metres. What a thrill it was to get over that hurdle!

Thirdly, I accepted the encouragement of friends who believed in my capabilities more than I did at the start.

A housemate who was big into fitness was the first person to begin to encourage me in my return to running. He gave me tips on improving my technique and also ran with me a few times, which gave me a sense of how I would handle running with others. Some two or three years later, a casual comment about my running journey with another group of friends led me to seriously consider signing up for the Bridge to Brisbane. I was daunted by the prospect, but when one of the friends signed up to do the run with me, I felt more confident to give it a go. These friends also invited me to join them regularly in a local ParkRun, which I did not take advantage of as much as I probably could have at the time. At the same time, my own motivation to run was doing well so no harm done.

*****

I am sure there are many more lessons that could be extrapolated from the experience of learning to master myself as a runner. And even if I never progress much beyond a 10 kilometre run, I know that I have gained a lot physically, mentally and emotionally that is surprisingly applicable to other parts of my life.