Holding Out For A Hero
Is the reason why we run because we’re always about chasing a “feeling?” Do you know what I mean about that feeling? Have you ever felt it, it might be years since you have or it could have been on your last run, but they’re feelings similar to, well, feeling like a hero, moments when you’ve felt brave after doing a run that you didn’t want to do, or feeling like you’ve conquered a challenge, big or small, or moments of embracing being comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Apparently, these feelings or moments that we so often chase are really called “hero moments” – I heard the phrase the other week at the conference I attended and I related to it so much I made a note of it in (one of my many) notebooks, I underlined it whilst quickly scribbling down the keynote speaker’s definition:
“It’s always about achievement, support and community – excitement, enjoyment, having a good time, this is the best”.
His definition was accompanied by a short documentary film of a young female skateboarder who repeatedly tried to master a technical move on her skateboard. The move, I subsequently learnt, is called a “boardslide” – no mean feat, it’s a balancing act between human, skateboard and a curb. Back the young skateboarder went, time and time again, relentless in her effort. Her grit and determination was etched in her young face as daylight faded, accompanied by the repetitive clunk of wood meeting metal as each attempt inched slowly to her mastering the move.
In the clinical setting of a lecture theatre (no popcorn allowed) we all collectively held our breath, silently willing her on, telepathically telling her not to give up- oh how we all wanted her to master this move. She did of course, the sigh of relief was audible as we watched this powerful, tangible moment which evoked such strong, visceral reactions amongst us, it was as though we were all there with her.
The skateboarder’s smile lit up her whole face as she excitedly fist bumps all her supporting community, seeking out every one of them, rewarding them for their patience, her community, her people.
Of course, this was the perfect clip to visualise a “teaching” moment, defining beautifully the feeling of what a “hero moment” feels like, and one that I can draw many parallels with within my work.
And quite by chance, which is so often the case, I witnessed someone experience their own hero moment last week. In my latest beginner’s group, an old running friend that I used to coach many years ago has returned to my group after years of “life getting in the way” of his running – just the usual life chaos that we all go through. I’m pleased to report that his love for running over the last 7 weeks has been reignited and as he turned to loop the other runners, I watched his face glow, full of pure joy, as he turned towards us, beaming.
I don’t think he was aware of how palpable his emotions were, he was feeling the feeling of accomplishment, experiencing his hero moment and as the whole group commented on the smile on his face, you could see that he to became aware of how much he’d missed that feeling.
When you witness moments of winning internal battles, like the skateboarder or the runner, I believe it really does highlight how much sport can change the world, a community or a person, and that by being part of “it” does hold quite a special power.
The flip side of that privilege is that I am also acutely aware that there are still many people who can’t access their hero moments, because the barriers to sport are too high and too inaccessible.
Intersectionality is a word I’ve heard quite a lot recently, it’s a term coined by Kimberle Crenshaw to describe how various aspects of a person’s identity like, gender, race, class, disability, sexuality, neurodivergence – intersect and crisscross to shape peoples experiences of inclusion or exclusion.
With so many layers and experiences, where do you even start to try and create genuine, and I mean genuine, inclusive spaces for runners, many of whom are laden down with different barriers, some more visible than others.
Over the years of coaching, I’ve noticed the burden that many runners carry of some of these invisible barriers and I’ve become increasingly aware that often runners need more than just “follow this training plan”. They need help building confidence, feeling safe and support to access our community. They need a place, either physically or virtually, where they feel safe enough to turn up and be completely themselves, and they need to be allowed the time that often takes.
I’ve spoken to many runners, many times, and asked them “why don’t you see yourself as a runner? You run, you show up yet you still class yourself as a non-runner. Why?”
But after last week’s conference I’ve started to think the question is wrong, and I’m also asking the wrong person. Is the question we really should be asking, “Is the running world designed through an intersectional lens?”
Because I don’t believe that it’s enough that research (apps, running groups, running clubs, races) feels that it’s only accessible by advantaged, able bodied and neurotypical people- and that everybody else just has to work it out for themselves, with made up strategies and a whole bucket load of extra energy needing to be expended just trying to get out of the front door, there are many hidden challenges that make going for a run anything but simple for so many.
I don’t ask any more if I can look after a runners oversized jumper that is tied tightly around a waist, in the blazing sunshine, I understand that the jumper isn’t for warmth, it’s for safety. I’ve stopped taking car keys at the start of a running session, allowing keys to be carried in hands because the key signify a sense of freedom, if the group ever felt too overwhelming, there’s a simple exit plan that doesn’t involve anyone else. I don’t question anymore why the beginner’s groups are so busy in winter and quieter in Spring, understanding now that darkness equals anonymity.
So often, the hardest part isn’t about the running. Sometimes it’s about the social interaction, the fear of having to make small talk to strangers, the energy spent on the overthinking of how you would be/could be perceived, the familiar feeling, yet again, of being the odd one out.
Success, sometimes, is simply staying in the group without fleeing.
And so, my latest course, Strong, Safe and Steady has been developed through listening and trying to gauge an understanding that helping people to run (and stay running) is about giving everyone the opportunity to have their hero moment; it’s not about plans and pace, it’s about creating a low-pressure environment where you show up exactly as and where you are, and I’ll meet you there.
Who is this course for? This course is for anyone who really wants to run but:
· you’ve completed (or only got to week 4) of a running programme like C25K but then stopped or felt unsure how to keep it going because life got in the way.
· you’ve tried running on your own but can’t quite get into a routine because your motivation just gets up and goes.
· even though you want to build confidence, routine and real progress without comparing yourself to others, you just can’t seem to stop the negative loop.
· you don’t feel like a “real” runner.
· you can’t make the in-person sessions but you’d still like expert guidance and a community-style support with a digital format.
This course works because the 8-week plan has been designed to guide you and not overwhelm you. Each week you’ll receive an email with the week’s suggested runs, plus a focus topic, a journal prompt (don’t worry, you don’t have to write down your inner most thoughts and feelings, these prompts are to remind you of all the small wins) and a confidence drill. You run on your own terms, whenever it fits with you.
The course taps into robust psychological behaviour change strategies and self-belief tools that help sustain progress, this is coaching for the brain and the body. But most importantly, this isn’t a one-size fits all plan, it’s built with lived experience in mind, knowing that sometimes we live in chaos. The skills and strategies enable you to run even when things aren’t perfect, because let’s be honest, they rarely are!
We start by building consistency, then we gently layer in awareness, effort and recovery so you can find your own rhythm (not anybody else’s). I’ll be on hand during the 8 weeks to guide and support you and you’ll learn to trust yourself and the process.
You can find out everything you need to know and sign up here.
Please tell a few friends if you feel like it or this sounds like it might be useful for them!