On Saturday, 22 July 2023, I was restless and fidgety throughout. Friend and fellow runner, Jessica Miller, was running her debut 100K ultramarathon at The Guzzler Ultra. Starting at Mount Coot-Tha and linking Enoggera Reservoir, Gold Creek Reservoir and Lake Manchester, The Guzzler Ultra weekend is a peak event for the trail community, not just in Southeast Queensland, but across Australia.
Over the day, with mixed urges of restraint and enthusiasm, I kept refreshing the athlete tracker to get live updates of racer #1079. On the Run With Rob message board, team members both crewing and cheerleading uploaded posts of Jess’ progress. It was incredible. Early in 2023, Jess had set herself this goal and had slogged her guts out over months of training. Her work ethic and positive attitude, amid setbacks to her health, was magnificent.
It showed. Jess completed her race in 16 hours and 40 minutes. Her achievement was nothing less than spectacular and it served as pure inspiration for me and our humble running club.
So why was I irritable? Discontent? How could I be overjoyed with Jess’ well-earned success, but feel somewhat agitated? Sensing a disturbance in the force, I deduced the cause and effect by the next day.
FoMO. My (f)ear (o)f (m)issing (o)ut.
Having run and loved the 50K event in 2022, an opportunity to race again in 2023 (and possibly go even bigger) could provide valuable insight to any gains over the last
12 months. Plus, it’s just good, dirty fun. Alas, it was not meant to be this year.
It’s true, for all of us. We can’t do it all. It’s just not possible. When it comes to starting lines, sometimes we must draw a line. And if we can’t, our families, friends, finances and firms will readily do it as they compete for our attention.
Following completion of a milestone event, I may find myself experiencing a big comedown. After months of sticking to a plan and being entirely goal oriented, I can be at a complete loss. The personal victory from completing a major race quickly fades and it’s no understatement to say I can become disoriented in the everyday with an inkling that something is missing. In the back of my mind, there is a question niggling at me.
So now what do I do?
As a runner, being in between races – particularly for distances we individually consider significant and takes some working towards – or not even having a race in mind can leave one feeling stuck in a holding pattern. Just meandering around in
No Man’s Land where the purpose for running and training is ambiguous and anomalous. Without a target the arrow lands anywhere, and therefore any plan or structure is abandoned and with it, any drive or desire to run.
Not only can (and do) runners couple this emptiness with anxiety of failure (because a race is not circled in the calendar), but it can also be layered with guilt from thoughts of the prioritisation required to pencil another race in (and the personal toll it takes in terms of cost, time and energy). From there, well, let’s just say it’s hard to cherry-pick when you want the whole fruit salad.
A key benefit I have found from mindfulness is seeking out joy in the seemingly “little” moments. Through a commitment to mindfulness meditation – a process of training my mind to focus attention simply on my breath – I have become better at being present and in the moment. Being comfortable that I’m exactly where I am supposed to be. Especially when circumstances seem mundane or tedious. For example, a training run with no race on the agenda.
It is hard putting your adventures on hold. As runners, it is understandable there will be unquantified periods of varying levels of anxiety, boredom, confusion, frustration and uncertainty. When it appears to me that I’m “just on another run”, I work a little harder to be mindful and come back to the present – whether that’s through a conversation with a fellow runner, admiring the sun rising for another day, hearing the dirt crunch under my shoes along a trail, or stopping to slurp fresh, cool water. For me, it has been crucial in managing these emotions from getting out of control.
Simple observation of breath has helped prevent me feeling stuck in a corner while going into a spiral. I can absolutely ascertain this is possible.
More than that though, it helps foster in me an attitude that those “in-between” training runs are not necessary evils. That I shouldn’t feel put out, but energised, from waking early. And just because nothing is marked on my race calendar, that is no excuse to pushing through hill sprints half-heartedly.
Even greater again, these ostensibly mundane training runs present an excellent opportunity to exercise mindfulness. If the mundane compels us to leave that which is currently happening, being mindful is the perfect antidote in making us present and completely in the here and now. Or, put another way, it stops our attention becoming judgmental and rambling on what we should be doing, and refocuses it to what we are doing.
Because if we permit our imagination to run further than our legs, consequently, we are blind to the beauty and splendour right before us in the moment. It is everywhere. Ignorantly, we don’t consider each run as its own accomplishment. Which it totally and utterly is.
Coming fully into the here and now is something I am FOREVER working on. I am always trying to not get caught up dreading how many races are not in front of me (especially as friends and peers go off to toe the starting line). I attempt this by purposefully thinking and running in the present moment, ensuring my breathing is rhythmic and steady, having consistent cadence and light feet, and putting all my focus and attention into what I am doing. Right here. Right now. I remain aware not to place any negative value judgments on this experience, and I aim to not use harmful labels like “mundane” or “tedious”. In fact, there is something elegant in having time to be single-minded and switching the brain to ‘airplane’ mode.
So next time I’m asked, and my race calendar is blank, I will answer honestly. “I’m training for life.” It’s a crazy world for all of us, me included, so perhaps I don’t need to add any more excitement to it. But with a mindful perspective, I’ll potentially find fulfillment and joy all the time and not just in the moments I get a finisher’s medal.
Another cracking read 😊👍🏻