How Not To Stop Running
Last week I seriously thought about stopping running.
No, seriously, I’m not joking, I really did question why I was continuing with it all. And as is so often the norm with these types of thoughts, they’re usually motivated by unintentional comments/incidents within my week that stack up until they can’t be ignored (and often end up here on Substack!).
The first innocuous incident was an AI running coach app (over the last couple of weeks I’ve been curious to see how these apps work) and it suggested, after a particularly hard interval session in minus temperatures, that my half marathon goal time should be adjusted; RUDE! The algorithms had digested my pace and recalibrated a new (slower) time to aim for.. OUCH! that smarted.
But I’m a big girl, and my rational brain knew deep down that the algorithms had no idea who I was, where I was or how cold it was. So, I let it go… or did I?
Me being logical and letting it go
Then on a recent hospital visit to see my lovely mother-in-law, who is recovering from open heart surgery, my younger sister-in-law, genuinely asked me “when are you going to give all this running malarky up?” The irony isn’t lost on me that we were in a cardiac ward at the time.
All of this unsolicited advice, from robots and humans alike, came within a couple of weeks of a half marathon I was due to run last Sunday. I’ve run this race twice before, once in 2006 and again last year. The race is in my hometown of York, it’s fast, flat and one of my favourite halves, but, I knew I would be significantly slower than last year.
Hence, last week I asked myself whether it was really time to give up this running malarkey, hang my trainers up, because what was even the point of running it if I couldn’t beat my time from last year? Those numbers that “us runners” all measure ourselves by were increasing and not decreasing. Why keep going if there is no clear “progress?”.
I nearly didn’t go to the race, I even came up with the excuse that the race would take all morning, my husband wasn’t having any of it, he told me in no uncertain terms that “I’d paid for the race so I was going to bloody well run it!”
And I did, but most importantly, I had a fantastic run. I knew that if I chased last year’s pace, I’d have a run from hell blowing up at mile 5 and then hating every single subsequent step. Believe me it’s not easy leaving your ego on the start line, in fact, within the first half mile I’d had an argument with myself as I watched the excited, determined, united in camaraderie, group of runners run with the 2-hour pacer as they surged pass me. “Come on, let’s run with them….” my brain goaded me, but experience taught me that the 2-hour pacer was already going too fast for that goal, and so I stuck to my guns and my gut, and I did me.
And I just ran, soaking up the now unfamiliar but so familiar and reassuring northern accents of fellow runners and supporters, I was looking forward to seeing my dad cheering me on at the half way point, comforted by his unwavering support in the freezing cold, neither of us getting any younger. Would this be the last time I ran this race, the last time I’d see him at his usual spot? I ran on, letting thoughts and memories drift in and out of my mind as I eased into my pace, overtaking flagging runners, ignoring the heavy breathing of runners trying to keep on my shoulder before they dropped back. It wasn't long before the iconic Terry’s clocktower came into view, just up and over the final bridge, picking off runners to the final 800m, don’t peak too soon! With my heart racing I sped up, boosted by seeing my husband cheering me in with a final push over the finish line, then it was all over.
Have I progressed in a year? If you look at the numbers, no I haven’t, BUT- I’ve progressed in so many other ways, the easy option would have been to give in and give up. There is no quick fix, progress can take many forms and can take many years, it’s a long-term journey, that at times, like me, you’ll want to quit. Don’t. Just, don’t.
It’s ironic that that I had my wobble, as I am about to start teaching my beginner running cohort about mental skills, introducing them to the techniques they’ll need to withstand their own brain wobbles if they want to keep running past our 9 week course.
When I first started running it was near impossible to find any research or advice on the importance of mental skills training in sport, in fact Sport Psychology wasn’t recognised as an academic subject by the British Psychological Society. Of course, thank goodness, times have moved on so much since then, I have a wealth of research, and real life examples to share with my new cohort of beginners and this week the focus is on the importance of self-compassion in running. Plus, I thought, in light of my experience last week, I’d share it here too for anyone else who needs it.
What is self-compassion? It is the practice of being kind and understanding towards yourself during times of failure, pain, or difficulty and it usually involves three main components:
Self-Kindness: Treating yourself with care and understanding rather than harsh self-criticism - would you talk to your best friend they way that sometimes you talk to yourself?
Common Humanity: Recognising that suffering and personal inadequacy are part of the shared human experience, rather than feeling isolated by your own failures.
Mindfulness: Holding painful thoughts and feelings in balanced awareness rather than over-identifying with them.
The idea behind self-compassion is that it encourages you to accept your flaws and mistakes with a gentle and non-judgmental attitude, which fosters emotional resilience and psychological well-being.
Learning how to run and how to “squeeze” your new habit into an already busy life will inevitably come with setbacks. But it’s how you deal with these setbacks that can be the difference between you continuing to run or giving up altogether.
When faced with setbacks or failures, self-compassionate people are more likely to use emotion-focused coping strategies; they are kinder to themselves and less likely to give up.
Examples of emotion-focused coping strategies
Positive reinterpretation: Reframing a negative situation in a more positive light.
Acceptance: Acknowledging and accepting the reality of a situation without trying to change it.
Self-compassion: Showing kindness and understanding to oneself during times of failure or pain.
Mindfulness: Staying present and aware of one's thoughts and feelings without judgment.
Seeking emotional support: Talking to friends, family, or a therapist to gain emotional support and understanding.
For me, I reframed my race, and I’m glad I didn’t quit!