As long as you try your best, that is enough!
On a light Friday night in June I was back out, at Pollok Park, being 'runner Jacq' for a 10km run organised by the Bellahouston Harriers. One of the most established running clubs in Glasgow. This is a night where all the clubs from around Scotland congregate for a running event with a different vibe – a little social with ‘beer and bbq’ included as part of your submission, but still with a very competitive edge.
All week I heard a voice in my head that mainly said, “I don’t want to run on Friday night”.
It started on earlier on in the week when I decided I was too tired, on Tuesday, to run on Friday. Then as the week progressed the excuses and reasons arrived from everywhere, like a wild avalanche. There was the possibility of wet weather and apparently, I wasn’t running in those conditions. Then there was the half-hour bike ride there, far too far for my legs before a run – even though I’ve cycled and ran there before. Then my body got involved, I had a sensitive tummy that seemed to rear its head on my training runs, ‘Just what I need’, I thought.
It felt like the perfect storm and all thoughts seemed to lead to a dead end!
If I’m honest, it was all very amusing as I cottoned on to what was happening in my mind. And it was definitely mentally exhausting. After each excuse outburst, I would explain to myself, “ you are running”, like an adult managing a ruley teenager.
So Friday arrived, race day, and I reminded myself that I was running - regardless. Cue adult Jacquelyn taking control of my ‘runner Jacq’ tantrums.
If I am honest I don’t really like 10km runs. They can be tough, and I only run a couple a year in an event setting. Where you push the pace. My fastest 10 run sits around 43mins from a coastal run in Ayr, on the west coast of Scotland. On a very warm Saturday afternoon I ran my wee heart out and with 2km to go I had to keep control of my mind that was dreaming ‘stop’ as a response to my tired legs.
With this in mind, I am pretty sure all my mini tantrums, and suspect ‘upset tummy’ the days leading up to the Friday night run, were in fact my primitive mind trying to trick me into convincing myself to quit. To keep my body and mind nice and comfy. Protecting me from the future discomfort I was going to inflict on myself as I once again planned to push the limits.
As I sat in my bath beforehand, I popped on a video that I knew would get me fired up. A video from a running group I follow sponsored by Adidas. One of their athletes was running in his hometown, in an attempt to break the mile in under 4 minutes. It was like a dramatic running-based fairytale, where he just crept under 4 minutes, on home soil. I’m pretty sure I was whooping in my bath, and that’s when I knew I was ready. Someone else’s triumph nudges you forward. You believe when someone does something impossible, that you can also make something possible that was once seemingly impossible. Or that you were avoiding like the plague.
In the end, it was a gorgeous evening, with a great turnout, made special by a piper piping us to the start line.
For the first 5km I was high fiving myself, enjoying the energy of running amongst club runners - I think they are a different beast, displaying a relenting attitude like no other. Pollock Park is the perfect country park setting. That is until you start the second lap of the same course when my mind shouted "We need to do this again?" - like a child having a tantrum. My mind knew what was coming, a mix of flat terrain with a hill that saps your energy. I was starting to feel tired.
From 6km on it was a struggle fest. My mind wanted to quit big time, my legs felt heavy. I kept pushing the pace, but felt I was moving backwards at times, giving myself different mini milestones to keep focus.
As I turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of the finish line where the veggie burger and can of juice waited as a reward for dragging myself across the finish line, puffing and panting.
As I grabbed the finish bag filled with a bottle of the national drink, irn bru, and a chocolate biscuit, I felt a surge of ‘ I done it’ euphoria. Although my finish time was not going to set any records, I kept keeping on. That to me means more than a achieving a time.
Running reminds you that each run and race is different. You can never, ever, predict the outcome. And the race only really begins when your mind wants to quit, which can start way before race day. You need to be as mentally strong, as you are physically strong. Use the inspiration from other runners to make you show up on the day, to give it a go – go all in.
As long as you try your best, that is enough! Now to program that into my subconscious mind, as it is a way better story to tell myself than fearing the discomfort of pushing the limits.