Running Naked

No, I haven’t joined a “small but enthusiastic group that take a more unconventional approach to running” - no one needs to see that.

Running naked is a term often used to describe running without your watch. I hadn’t intended to, I just misplaced my watch on the morning of a race and thought to myself, instead of wasting time looking for it, why don’t I just leave it at home. This might seem obvious to some of you, but as I haven’t run without a smart watch for several years, this did actually feel like quite an alien decision.

Even though I’m personally a big advocator of not looking at your watch when racing and running on feel, I’ve never been able to leave my house without it since I discovered what a useful device a smart watch can be.

So, I am running ‘naked’. It felt strange at first. Even before the race began, all around me on the start line I could hear the familiar alerts of GPS being enabled, and it felt alien not to be part of this ritual, and even more so as I ran over the timing mat- it’s usually head down, top right button pressed and we’re off!

There I was, ‘naked’, amid the hordes of runners whizzing past me, heavy breathing, darting and dodging finding their path and their pace. Without the constant omnipresence of my smart watch, I became attuned to my surroundings, the mediative footfall of others, privy to their innocuous conversations.

Here’s how one played out behind me, two friends running together within the first mile.

Friend 1 - “Oh I hate it when my watch tells me I’m running shit!”

Friend 2 - “Please don’t feel you have to run with me, you go on”.

Friend 1 - “Ok, I will, see you later”

I pushed on and we hit the winds, a reportedly 40mph side wind that literally took your breath away and at times the feet from underneath you. And I just ran, having absolutely no idea what pace or what heart rate zone I was in, and honestly it was so liberating. There was no sneaky peak at my watch, just to check where I was, no negative external markers to latch onto that could take me mentally downhill, comparing a snapshot pace on a watch to a past run which so often creates an influencing fear, a negative mental “reel” of all the worst runs/mistakes I’ve ever had.

I just ran the mile I was in.

And this freedom reminded me so much of when I first used to race, when I had so much less experience and expertise, and how much I loved it; pushing myself, my first 10km, first half marathon and even first marathon, all these experiences were a blank canvas of expectations. There was an abandonment of apprehension knowing I wouldn’t be able to scrutinise my splits, happy that whatever I did in the race was the best I could that day.

As each mile past my body instinctively knew the best pace to run at, I simply listened to my internal cues and focused on the flow of the run. And magically I realised that I wasn’t thinking about running at all, it felt natural, even though I was pushing myself, I became aware of a state of “mindlessness”, or flow, as it’s often known.

“Flow is the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energised focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity.”

— Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

After the race, curious about what I’d experienced, I asked members of my running club (Run Verity) how they like to measure their progress. Most replies were about the feeling of finishing a race feeling strong physically and mentally, not having felt or feeling the compulsion to comparing yourselves to others, just enjoying a race.

For others they said seeing improved performance and achieving pb’s. I relate to this, but I most love seeing my finish times when I’ve enjoyed a race, it’s just the icing on the cake and I’ve realised that all of my pbs have been when I didn’t look at my watch!

But I don’t want to break up with my smart watch entirely. I do love it- I love numbers and I love analysing numbers, I’m a coach after all. But ask yourself what it would be like or how would it feel if your past experiences didn’t haunt you and weren’t part of your mental “reel” that was on loop in your head. Could you run free from these distractions? What is the worst that can happen? I encourage you to try running naked.