Gradients of thought

“I’m normally a lot better going up the hills than I am going down them” pants the runner by my side.

I look at one of my competitors; or more accurately the person who is sharing the pain of the Southerns with me. He’s bent double, breathing deeply as tries to take in as much oxygen as possible and all whilst trying to avoid falling down the slope he has so painfully climbed up. I hope that I don’t look like I am in this much pain for only the beginning of our second lap of this dreaded hill; and realise I am pretty much identical to his agonising form.

We are scrambling up one of the hardest parts of the nine mile Stanmer Park course. The climb we are on resembles some sort pathway to Count Dracula’s castle than a cross-country race to me. I know it’s cold, as sheets of rain are pouring down, but I am boiling; a clear sign of my exertion. My pace is getting slower and slower, whilst my heart rate soars, and it seems as though we are no nearer to getting to the top of this climb.

My fellow climber falls over and slips down the slope, he has realised our worst nightmare. I ask if he is okay, he grunts as well as nods. By now I’m already a few metres away from him, we both know that this is still a race and I also can’t afford to lose momentum going up the steepest part of the course. I keep trying to draw more air into my lungs and, whilst I struggle for breath, saliva fills my mouth. My feet start to slow to what almost feels like a walk and I spit to clear my mouth, as the top of the hill comes into view. Unknown parts of my body start to ache as I attempt to carry on running up the hill. I try to think about how satisfying it will be to finish the race in one piece. Then another thought enters my head, what happens if I just pull out of the race; I am only just recovering from an injury, no one would think any the worse of me.

The answer to that thought lies in December 2017. My mind was on not running London, as the house move seemed to be taking up all my time and my hamstring didn’t seem to be improving. In essence I felt like Bill Paxton in Aliens:

It was only in January that bit by bit I started to string some small runs together, with some cycling in between the runs. I discovered Pilates, which made me realise how much I needed to build up my core as well as my hips. I even managed to get some consistent running in during an intensive training course, two exams, contract discussions around the potential house move and my washing machine breaking down. Being able to juggle running alongside the rich tapestry of life, gave me hope for London and a renewed vigour to my running.

It was also at this time that my sister-in-law sent me a video by Tony Robbins, on how to stick to goals in 2018 . I am not particularly huge fan of Mr Robbins; whilst I think he has some incredibly useful tools and principles to help people with their lives, I do not think his various approaches can be applied as a template to everyone’s lives. He also updates his approach, so there is an onus on the people who follow him to read around and contrast his theories with others. A more nuanced critique of Mr Robbins can be found here. With those qualifications aside there were some genuinely useful insights, which I think could be used in relation to my running. None of them are ground breaking, but I think when applied could help improve my running:

•         That New Year’s resolutions/ Goal setting are less about achieving a particular objective, rather thinking about a type of behaviour you want to change. So in my case rather than just vowing to get more sleep, I will look at what things I need to change to get to bed earlier.

•          Following from the previous point; when changing behaviour you have to think as much about the behaviour to replace your old habit with, as removing the habit itself. This isn’t just a question of how, it is about why. Carrying on with my own situation, I have to think about the benefits of getting to bed earlier as well as what positive routines I want to use to get to bed earlier. For example, if I get to bed earlier there is more of a chance I can recover and less chance of being injured.

• ·        Mr Robbins uses a useful parable of him apparently visiting the circus to see an adult elephant tied to a relatively tiny stake. Even though the elephant could easily rip the stake out and escape, it has been conditioned from an early age to believe that the stake is too difficult to be removed. This serves as a useful reminder of how our beliefs and thoughts can limit our ability to achieve our goals. Again very much applicable to running, in realising when we may be holding ourselves back from developing a new more positive behaviour. Another version of this story, and possibly better depending on your point of view, is from the Life of Pi .

• ·         The final thing I gleaned from the talk was that the work that goes towards making a person’s- potentially public- success, goes on behind closed doors or in other words in private. Whilst this isn’t a massive revelation it highlights to me what running is essentially about; a consistent, disciplined approach where one trains with their own private goal to eventually take part in a public effort of achieving that aim. For all the glory that instagram, facebook and twitter put forth about running; it is the monotonous day-to-day grind where someone’s “win” takes place.

The hills are behind me now, well for this lap anyway, and I am running downhill. Whereas before I was struggling to lift my feet going uphill, I now find it hard to control my feet. I turn a corner and feel my spikes struggle to find any grip, as the hard chalky ground turns to soft slick mud. My right leg clips my left foot causing me to trip myself up, falling sideways and sliding off the course. Now it’s my turn for someone to ask I am okay; other runners get ahead of me. I say to myself it’s okay, you are not even fit for this race. Perhaps it’s the mild embarrassment of falling over and being overtaken; but I find there is something beguiling about trying to catch up with those runners who have overtaken me. Yes it is a race, yes there are over four miles of this course to go, yes I am aching and yes- oddly enough- I am enjoying this cold, wet day