Letting Go to Get a Grip
Attachment is a funny thing. From my previous writings, a common thread relating to my mental health is my perception and connection to self, others and the world can be skewed with a negative lens. Whether this is nature, or nurture, is irrelevant; a subversive filter for seemingly innocuous events or experiences does contribute to a damaging (even hostile) narrative.
In trying to find solutions or meaning, or in attempting to make the right decision (which is not the same as the easiest), I can spend indefinite time scrutinising each aspect and possibility, only to be no closer to an answer. Or, more typically, the problem or dilemma I thought I was addressing has only become bigger.
However, when we have the solution or find meaning, placing undue attachment to them can be just as harmful. Often, we are told to let go of that which causes us suffering and pain. Rarely though are we guided to not cling to our successes, victories and solutions. For they too can lead to inner turmoil and distraction. Something I recently discovered.
In early July 2023, the Gold Coast Marathon (GCM) was what I would consider for me a “dream” run. Everything about that day, that weekend, was perfect. My preparation and lead-in were ideal, with race conditions on the day itself idyllic. My nutrition, hydration and respiration (I use a prescribed inhaler) were on point.
For me, my pace was superb, and I was incredibly chuffed that the second half of the marathon was only approximately one minute off the pace of the first (in which I’m convinced I could have achieved my first ever negative split, had it not been the dominant, swirling winds between kilometres 34 and 40). I didn’t walk once, which was my biggest goal, only slowing as I went through aid stations. I crossed the finish line and achieved a PB of 3:41:22 (equating to an average split of 5:15m/km), besting my time at the Brisbane Marathon in late May 2023 by 40 minutes.
I was stoked. It was a result that FAR exceeded my expectations.
Going into the Sunshine Coast Marathon (SCM) six weeks later, I was doing my best to put the GCM behind me; needing to remind myself (and be mindful) it is a totally different race, a totally different environment, and a totally different day.
I will be honest – from the get-go, I really struggled to do this. I ignored subtle differences, such as staying on the Gold Coast for the weekend of that race as opposed to leaving on the morning of the SCM. Not that I felt rushed, making the destination in plenty of time. But it did mean waking one hour earlier than I did previously, eating brekky one hour earlier than I did previously, and sitting in a car for one hour (albeit with some awesome, incredible people – thank you Mel, Scarlet, Carter and Jonah) before race start which I didn’t do previously. When we did leave, at around 3.45am, it was so warm that a jacket was superfluous. The morning of GCM, it was literally the middle of winter, and it felt like it.
On the Saturday of the GCM festival/weekend, my spirits were at an all-time high from cheering on fellow club members running the half-marathon and 10K events. For the SCM, the marathoners and half-marathoners were corralled together into one seething mass that started at 6.00am. The 10K runners wouldn’t be starting for another three hours. Immediately, I began to feel SCM didn’t have the same “magic” as the GCM. Not necessarily better or worse – just different, and enough to be a little unsettling.
Tiny things annoyed me, such as feeling like my left shoe was loose and flopping around on my foot. Big things angered me, like having to walk on multiple occasions in the devastating heat. Important things resonated with me, particularly when a runner in front of me at approximately the 32K mark got the wobbles. I helped catch him before he collapsed to the ground, propped him against a parked car and hugged him as he struggled against me with a desire to keep running. All I could tell him was, “It’s okay. You’ve done well, but your race is done. You need to stop now. Just stop.”
Wonderful people connected with me, be it the paramedic that tapped me on the shoulder to take over the above situation, or the high-5s and cheers I got from fellow running club members as I passed by our tent three times ahead of finishing (along a marathon course that is one lap of the half-marathon loop and two laps of the 10K loop).
The first half of my marathon was dialed in; it wasn’t faster than GCM but was on par. However, I knew the second half was going to be an absolute war within. Temperatures climbed towards 27C (emphasising my lack of heat training), my quads blew up and the letters “PB” were replaced with “DNF”.
Whether I meant to or not, I was comparing this race to the last, like they were widgets, and not a human experience. I felt I was losing kilometres. I felt I was losing my soul. I felt inadequate and imperfect. I was too busy thinking about the race to be in the race, and the expanse seemed much greater than 42.2K.
Memories of our good days, our achievements and our victories are important. They form our character and solidify our bonds to self, others and the world. It is an instinct of being human.
However, the failure to understand the attachment we place on them can inadvertently become a source of suffering and an obstacle for growth. Despite our innate tendencies, it can sometimes be a mistake to cling to people, objects or ideas in the belief (or hope) they will bring lasting happiness and fulfillment – in my case, that one exceptional race will mean every race ahead will be exceptional. Better than the last and anything less is not worth writing home about.
Each marathon (like lived experiences) is manifestly different and unique; even the GCM that I have next year, and thereafter, will be nothing like that of 2023. But the attachment I built, leading into SCM, gave me a sense of comfort and control. A marathon absolutely does not care about what I feel and think. Or what I need to feel or think. That is not being cruel or unkind; the course, the weather, the day will all have their way. They are not going to bend to my will.
Similarly, obsessing about this year’s GCM – from which I did derive pleasure and satisfaction (and rightly so) – will ultimately lead to suffering and dissatisfaction, as the object of my attachment is “point in time” only, whereas many, many things (both internal and external to my control) will change.
In fostering ‘non-attachment’, I am working to break free from a cycle of obsession, perfectionism and judgment and run (not just in races, but all occasions) with greater freedom, confidence and compassion. In being mindful, and through meditative practice, it has led me to ask myself a necessary question. A question, I believe, every runner should ask themselves:
Am I running to benefit myself, or am I running to benefit my ego?
Answering this question in a real, meaningful and honest way is not only freeing - it is empowering. A good race does not make a good person, yet a bad race can make a person great. Achieving a personal best is not the same as being your personal best.
Do you know what’s harder than winning the 100m sprint at the Olympic Games? Being decent. Showing up. Following through. Why is it harder? Because often, there’s no gold medal at the end. It’s grueling. The outcome is unknown. The challenge may be too great.
But therein lies the beauty. Being mindful that each race is a unique experience, and it will unfold exactly how it is meant to – it might not be ideal or what I had in mind (for better or worse) – but when it comes down to either me or the marathon, the latter will always have its way. A marathon doesn’t give a hoot about my ego. Nor should it.
I entered this marathon to test me out, and now I’m cranky because it won’t give me a cuddle.
That’s ego.
This marathon is doing its job, giving me exactly what I asked for, and now I have the audacity to question why it’s punishing me.
That’s ego.
I have a desire to learn, grow and improve but effectively want the same race I had last time.
That’s ego.
And the only thing disproportionate attachment offers is a copy, of a copy, of a copy. Bor-ing.
In the end, my official race time at SCM was 3:57:19 – a very respectable result. I am immensely proud that I went sub-4 hours in my third road marathon in less than three months. I learned a lot. I’ve become a better runner for it. Yes, my ego took a hit. But I think it needed it.
My fondest memory, however, was being part of the Run With Rob club that took the cup (again!) for Largest Corporate/Club Team. I love this group. I love their mission. I love their message. I love these people. I love the connection I have with them.
It’s the kind of attachment I could definitely get used to.
Loved it! Keep writing Shane ✍️ 😊