Going mental

Bad mental

I mentioned in last week's summary that we did 5 miles on our group run. What I didn't mention is how after the run, once I got into my car, I burst into tears and cried all the way home. I'm still not sure I understand all the reasons for this particular breakdown, but I suspect it was a combination of hormones, insecurity, general stress, exhaustion, and frustration at being pushed beyond my capacity. Instead of being encouraged by the accomplishment (5 miles!), I was overcome with a sense of defeat. Where there should have been elation, there was instead despair. The experience caused me a lot of soul searching, a long conversation with my trainer, and some bit of re-evaluation of my participation with the running group. I am currently endeavoring to find a way to make the group experience work for me, trying to find a balance between the positive and the negative.

Good mental

On Tuesday, I headed back to the gym for my regular weekday run. I planned to run 3 miles, but was not sure what my goals were beyond that. On most of my runs, I have been practicing running with walking intervals sprinkled in about every 6 minutes. On several other occasions I have challenged myself to run a full mile without taking any walk breaks. So on Tuesday, since I felt comfortable in my ability to run a mile, I thought it would be good to try to push for more. I decided on a goal of 2 miles, no walking.

I really believed this was reaching - 2 miles - but figured that I could just force myself to do it. Somewhere near the end of the second mile, the thought popped into my head, "That wasn't too bad. What about 3? I wonder if I could do 3?" Bolstered by the accomplishment of meeting my goal, I thought, "Why the heck not?"

And this is where I discovered the mental game of running. Because once I decided to try for 3, there really was no settling for less. It became a real test after the first couple of laps into that 3rd mile. I found that even though my legs were lacking in strength and any measurable feeling, and even though my lungs were being pushed beyond their comfortable capacity, it was possible to continue moving forward by the sheer force of my will alone. I found that being tired, being breathless, was not the same as being unable. I found that until my muscles physically failed and collapsed under me, being fatigued was not a valid reason to let them stop. I found that it was enough for my mind to say to my body, "Do not stop. Do. Not. Stop."

And my body obeyed.

This was a grand success for me and a welcome epiphany. And enough of a confidence boost that I went out on Thursday and did it again.