Lessons from running
Written on the sofa with an ice pack on my foot
Cringe! Is there anything worse than someone trying something new and then not being able to stop talking about it? Well, unfortunately, I’ve caught did-you-know-I’m-a-runner-itis and it’s very contagious. The symptoms really hit me when my housemate manipulated me into signing up for a half marathon but everyone’s coming down with it at the moment so it’s hard to tell where I caught it from.
The joke’s on me though because I’m writing this with a bruised foot bone (an injury I didn’t know existed before I picked it up) and tissue damage around my knee. But before I was potentially out of the race, running became somewhat of an education, with lessons that were hopefully less cliche than the kind you usually hear about (‘your body is stronger than you think!!!’). So here are mine:
Ignorance is bliss
The best runs happen when you find a rhythm or are ‘in the zone’, but I find zoning out is actually better. Rather than consciously placing one foot in front of the other and hyper-focusing on the drum-drum-drum of my feet, I prefer to detach my body and mind - not to ignore my pain or sensations, but as a way of trusting my body to carry me forward. Maybe avoiding the mind-body connection isn’t good running advice but, as a chronically in-my-own-head person who too regularly manages to convince herself to give up, it’s better to let my brain wonder outside of myself for a moment.
Running is a great rage release
Every week, my fastest splits are done when this song and this song - both about men treating women like shit - come on my playlist. A coincidence? Maybe. But anger seems to be good fuel for me (and likely many other women who don’t have enough outlets for their frustration). Try getting furious and see what it does for you.
The ‘final push’ is a lie
The worst thing about running is that being ‘so close’ to the end means you still have like 10 minutes left. The ‘final push’ can be two kilometres of struggle. It’s not what I’m used to with physical challenges: in the gym, you might struggle with a final rep which lasts for 15 seconds and then is over. There’s a special type of madness that goes into pushing yourself at your most but sustaining that for comparatively long periods of time. I haven’t quite got my head around it yet.
You have to self-motivate
The second worst thing about running - or specifically, training for a race - is that your body has to achieve wild things and then… your day continues. You head out for an 18k run - nearly a half marathon, an event that inspires cheer squads and donations - and there’s no medal waiting at the end, no one applauding you (clapping emojis via Instagram DMs don’t count). Instead, you have to make yourself a bagel and send some emails and log onto a Teams call as though nothing happened. It’s a good reminder for the real world that no one is going to applaud for you except yourself I guess, but can also be very confusing and underwhelming.
Running is better as a team sport
On paper, running is the most solo sport you can get, so it’s ironic that all of my rules about preferring to exercise alone go out of the window when it comes to covering long miles. I prefer to go with friends, nattering away as we run, checking in on mutual pace, voicing worries over stiff knees or aching ankles. Generally training for a race alongside friends, even when we don’t head out together, has also been a joy: they talk me through the minutia of their runs, tell me stories about their niggling knee that always clicks at 9km, we tell each other about the tips and tricks we’ve learned (both from TikTok and actual professionals). I’m yet to join an actual running ‘community’ or club, but starting with my own running team has changed the way I viewed the sport.
It helps me say yes
I like that my body can now do something practical. Yes, I can run for the bus better! But more than that, I like that I can away with friends and decide on join them for a refreshing morning run just because, or go to a work event where there’s a run involved without being intimidated (a niche requirement of working in the fitness industry, sure). This type of flexibility isn’t something that comes from running in particular but from expanding your skill set in general, which often feels intimidating to do but so rewarding when you can just say yes to things.
No one knows how bad you are
One of the main reasons I was put off running for so long was because I was bad at it. I was bad at it because I didn’t do it, which makes it an endless cycle of shame, especially as running is such a public sport where other people walking their dog or sitting at their window can see you be bad at it. Except, they can’t! No one knows anything about your run or your fitness and I doubt they care.
When I look at other runners, I assume the best. I see someone walking mid-run and think that they must be doing intervals, having they’ve just finished an all-out 100m sprint. I see someone red and panting and guess they’ve been running for hours and hours. I see someone going slow and assume it’s their deload week so they’re tapering their speed. I never think they’re walking because they’re bad, they’re a sweaty mess because they’re unfit and they’re going slow because they’re on their first run. Yet if I am running ‘badly’ (which is to say, the trope of badness, not because being slow or hot is actually bad) I get embarrassed that everyone can see I’m crap and is laughing at me. Let’s be real: no one knows if you’ve run 2km or 20km, are a professional athlete or on your first run. Please don’t avoid running - or any exercise for that reason - because you worry about what people think.
Running is not a beginner sport
And this is the hill I will die on. Running people are very defiant on the fact that anyone can run, which is of course true: you don’t have to be specially qualified or pass any fitness tests. But I think there’s a reason running never really worked for me until now (and can I even say it’s worked if I’m on RICE rest?) and that’s because I didn’t have the inclination to pay attention to form, mechanics, the right kind of accessory workouts and the arduous warm ups and cool downs (I was stretching for around 30 minutes before and after, but it turns out that wasn’t quite right).
To be a runner who can cover distances and improve their pace without injury, you have to be strong enough to take on load and know so much about your body and the way it work. I think that’s worth noting not to put beginners off but to remind ourselves that we are not the weird ones for not being able to nip out for a 10k speed session on a whim. It’s worth taking time to train in other ways, build a foundation of strength and a relationship with your body before turning to the pavement. After years of doing that, I finally feel comfortable moving my body through endurance runs, and I’m still learning so much about how to do it safely.
An extra note: the cost of running continuous to blow my mind. I will never, never believe that ‘anyone can run’ because ‘you just lace up and head out’. I am so lucky that I am given samples of trainers for work (my new pair on test are the On Cloudstratus) because otherwise I couldn’t afford a decent pair that don’t make my ankles roll. So many people are priced out of running well and that has to change.
Thanks so much for reading Gray’s Anatomy. I’d love for you to send this to a friend who might like it, leave a comment on your experience with running and, of course, subscribe if you’re new. See you in your inboxes next week!
I am a relatively recent convert to running too and have had such a different experience, but ending up with a similar love for it. For example group running is just not for me but the meditative quality of running and the zoning out is also true for me - I never think about my breathing or anything. I second prioritising a good quality pair of shoes. They make it much easier and safer.