Like an endurance race take this lockdown one day at a time
Acrucial part of running is developing the ability to endure. Sure, there are physical aspects to that, such as increasing your body’s efficiency at getting oxygen to the muscles. But plenty of it is in the head. Endurance, to me, is a lot about buckling down, not letting the mind get ahead of itself, and figuring out how to get through.
And if ever there was a time we needed to know how to endure, it’s now.
As most of us sit in our homes, in lockdown, unsure exactly when the restrictions will be released and what life on the other side will look like, it’s easy to let the mind race ahead.
It’s easy to feel dread, or just plain boredom.
When will this end? Runners know the feeling. There have been plenty of races or training runs when all I’ve wanted to do is stop, figure out how to get back to the car or home without having to take another goddamn step, and cut my losses.
But you learn how to convince yourself to keep going.
The trick is to have a range of mental tools.
To me, one of the most effective, and one that seems particularly relevant at this time, is to break things down into manageable chunks.
Take a marathon, for instance. It’s a long way and it’s a lot of time to be on your feet, step after step, heart beating faster than it normally would, sweat stinging your eyes, weariness taking over your muscles.
At the start line, if you think about all that, you’ll give up before you even begin.
So I try not to think about the fact I have 42.2 kilometres to go. Over the years, the mental trick I’ve developed is to break the race down into 5km splits.
I even set my watch up so all I’m looking at is each 5km split so when I look at my watch, it’s just telling me how far it is to 5km.
At 12km in, for instance, it helps me not get ahead of myself and start thinking I’ve got 30km to go – I’m only thinking about the next three kilometres.
On the start line of the Tarawera Ultramarathon in February, about to run more than 160km, I’d have panicked
myself into quitting if I dwelt on the enormity of what lay ahead.
And so, all I planned and thought about was what I needed to get to the first aid station and what I’d have to do once I was there (refill my water bottle, grab something to eat).
That’s the way I kept it for the next 28 hours – one aid station at a time.
It feels like that’s the only way we’re going to get through this lockdown – one day at a time.
At the beginning, if I’d started to over-think about there being four weeks or so to go (especially when it’s unclear exactly how long this will last, when it will have deemed to have gone on long enough for us to defeat this invisible enemy) I would have flown into a full-on meltdown.
Sure, you need to physically prepare for a long haul. I’m not saying I was acting oblivious and blind to reality. Just as you need to prepare for a marathon, in those crazy hours before the lockdown began, I needed to get myself and my family ready for what we were facing.
But once into it, it’s important to stay in the moment and not build up excitement or expectations about the finish.
That can particularly be the case when you get bored.
On long runs, sure, sometimes it does get boring. It’s at those moments, you start looking at your watch too much, thinking, ‘‘Oh, when will this be over?’’ Those are the times when every minute drags. When your body starts to hurt. This is never going to end, you fret.
But over the years I’ve learnt how to recognise that feeling, and try to cut it off. It’s easy when you’re with friends. Keep talking, shooting the breeze, and the time will quickly vanish. Or if you have headphones, put on some music or podcasts.
It’s harder on your own. I use tricks on myself, to distract myself, and disrupt the mind’s obsession with time. Usually, I’ll give my mind something to do – I’ll start repeating a mantra or phrase. Or I’ll try to remember all the words of favourite songs.
Once, at the Kepler Mountain run, about 40km into the 60km race, I felt so close to the finish and yet so far away. It felt like I was never going to get there. I kept looking at my watch tallying how many kilometres to go. It became an obsession, constantly checking, counting down every metre, and it was really unhelpful, making me more and more anxious.
And so, I needed a circuit breaker. I’d remembered hearing that British marathon runner Paula Radcliffe used to count to 100 over and over again to slow down her breathing and keep her mind in the race.
So I tried it, using the watch as an ‘‘incentive’’ – ‘‘OK, brain, you can’t look at the watch until you’ve counted to 100’’. After a couple of rounds of counting, I’d snapped out of my obsession with time.
In lockdown, it’s easy to become obsessed with time – how many days to go? It will drive you to distraction.
So, figure out how to stay in the moment. Concentrate on what’s before you now, on each day, not what’s ahead of you in the distance. Learn to endure.
There have been plenty of races when all I’ve wanted to do is stop, figure out how to get back home without having to take another goddamn step, and cut my losses.