I’ve been writing about the psychology of running since before RunVerity started. Over the years, I’ve encouraged runners to stop comparing themselves to others, persuaded them to run “naked” without their watches and spent a considerable amount of time talking about what goes on in their heads.
Usually while we were running around a car park.
Because alongside the physical effort of running, there’s often a running commentary.
“I’m holding everyone up.”
“I should be faster by now.”
“There’s no point entering if I’m going to be last.”
As a psychology teacher and running coach, I was interested in these comments. They helped me understand what people were experiencing and what I might need to change about the session.
You’ve trained your legs. What about the rest of you?
Think about how much preparation goes into your running. You follow a plan, fit sessions around work and family, set an alarm for a weekend long run and get dressed when staying in your dressing gown feels considerably more appealing.
Then, halfway through a perfectly manageable run, a thought arrives.
“I can’t do this.”
Or you look at your watch, see a pace you don’t like and decide the whole session is going badly.
I recognise this because I’ve done it myself. Knowing about psychology doesn’t make you immune to getting caught up in your own thoughts. Being a coach doesn’t either.
Mental skills training involves practising ways to manage attention, expectations and responses to the situations you encounter in running. That might mean settling your nerves before a race, bringing your attention back to the next stretch of road or recognising when you’re judging today’s run against a version of yourself from five years ago.
Listen to what you’re telling yourself
One place to start is noticing the comments you make about your running.
“I’m slow” can sound like a straightforward description. But what does it mean to you? Slower than whom? Your friend? Your younger self? Someone you’ve never met whose training you follow online?
And what happens next? Do you abandon your own pace, avoid a session or apologise for being there?
During my years of coaching, these were the conversations that interested me. A runner’s pace gave me some information. What they believed that pace said about them gave me considerably more.
Try choosing one thought that regularly crops up. Write it down and consider:
What happened just before I thought this?
What evidence am I using?
What else could explain the situation?
What would I say to a runner I was coaching?
You don’t have to produce an inspirational statement. Something believable is more useful.
“I’m rebuilding after time away” might be a fairer description than “I’m rubbish at running now.”
Sometimes the group needs to change
Of course, if you’re worried about being left behind because you’ve been left behind before, there’s a reason for that worry.
As a coach, I needed to consider the experience I was providing. Could people understand the session? Did they know where to go? Were the arrangements working for the runners at the back?
Reassurance needs something behind it. Telling someone they’ll be fine means very little if the group disappears around the corner.
My experience of adapting beginners’ courses taught me to pay attention to what people said, then look at what I could change. Confidence and the conditions we ask people to run in belong in the same conversation.
Give yourself something useful to focus on
Before your next run, choose one thing to practise.
Perhaps you’ll start at an effort that allows you to talk. Perhaps you’ll stop checking your watch on every incline. During a harder session, you might bring your attention back to the repetition you’re doing rather than counting how many are left.
Afterwards, ask yourself what helped and what you learned.
You can still want a PB. I like a PB too. But when the finishing time becomes the only thing you notice, you can overlook the preparation, decisions and small improvements that helped you get there.
I spent years asking runners to slow down. Understanding why that request could feel so difficult became as much a part of my coaching as deciding how far we would run.