avatarAmy Yoder

Summary

The author discusses the personal and psychological benefits of running, emphasizing that enjoyment and self-improvement are more important than performance or skill.

Abstract

The article titled "The Benefits of Running Badly" delves into the author's experience with running, particularly in preparation for a marathon, despite being a slow and inconsistent runner. The author acknowledges the challenges faced, including self-doubt and the struggle to maintain consistency, but also the joy and satisfaction derived from the activity. The piece highlights the importance of doing things for personal enjoyment rather than excelling at them, using mantras like "Are you running a marathon today?" and "It takes as long as it takes" to maintain a healthy perspective on training. The author reflects on both the magical and the difficult runs, asserting that the value of running lies in the experience and the mental resilience it builds, rather than in achieving fast times or high performance.

Opinions

  • Running, despite not being good at it, is valuable and should be pursued if it brings joy.
  • The mental and emotional benefits of running, such as personal time and the runner's high, are as important as physical benefits.
  • Comparing oneself to others or to unrealistic standards is counterproductive; each runner's journey is unique.
  • The process of training for a marathon is more about personal growth and the ability to overcome one's inner critic than about the speed or the finish time.
  • Running provides an opportunity to practice mindfulness and control over negative thoughts, which is beneficial for managing anxiety.
  • Everyone should engage in challenging activities that may not come easily, as they contribute to building mental toughness and provide a sense of accomplishment.
  • The author believes in the right to participate in activities one loves, regardless of skill level or comparison to others.

The Benefits of Running Badly

*A note before we begin: I missed posting the week of the Uvalde school shooting, and my personal, professional, and political realms have been exhausting in the meantime. Thus, my posting dropped off, but I am hoping to return to a Thursday post each week.

I’m training for a marathon, and I suck at running.

Photo by Emma Simpson on Unsplash

That’s not a value judgment, but the fact is, I run very slowly. I plod along. I take lots of walking breaks. I suck down water and breath through my mouth and sweat an excessive amount, especially in this South Texas heat. I don’t ever run in groups or friends because I’m embarrassed that I wouldn’t be able to keep up.

And also because running is my space, my time to myself. I’m an introvert, and going for a run is time to myself when I don’t have to worry about what anyone else around me is doing.

Every so often, I get into that flow state with running, the runner’s high, the place where I feel like I’m barely touching the ground and I could keep going forever. I do get it, but not every run. Maybe one out of twenty runs.

I also struggle with consistency (in running and many other areas), which I know means I’m cheating myself out of fitness.

Photo by Malik Skydsgaard on Unsplash

So why do I do it? Why do I keep lacing up day after day, month after month, year after year? Why on earth am I training for a full marathon that will likely take me double or triple the time of other runners?

Because I believe that you shouldn’t have to be good at something to do it. You shouldn’t have to excel at a task to keep it as a part of your life. There is value in doing things badly if you enjoy them.

Marathon Mantras

1. Are you running a marathon today?

Earlier on in my training, I would compare every run’s distance to the marathon distance, and it would freak me out. “Oh, my god. A marathon is 13 times this distance, 10 times this distance, five times this distance…” and so on.

I couldn’t get it together enough to move my feet for a minute at a time before grunting and walking again, cursing myself and the heat and the distance and whatever other thing I felt was impeding my progress.

But then I discovered a useful tool, a question to ask at the beginning of every day, at the beginning of every run, at the beginning of every workout.

Me: Are you running a marathon today?

Also me, every single day but one: Nope.

Me: What are you doing today?

Also me: [insert workout from my training plan]

Me: Okay, so do that.

Also me: … okay, fine.

And on that day in December when the answer to, “Are you running a marathon today?” is yes, well, then, I’ll just do that. That’s the plan, and for now, it’s lifted the mental burden a lot. Most of my runs are challenging in one aspect or another, but if I can get out of my head, I can usually also have some fun, listen to some music, and get a huge feeling of pride and satisfaction.

2. It takes as long as it takes.

This is a big one for me. When I started running, I set my sights on running the Boston Marathon. For my age group, runners have to qualify for the Boston Marathon by running another sanctioned marathon with an average pace of 8:02 per mile.

I can’t run one mile that fast, let alone 26.2. At this point, I can’t even consistently run at the pace for the age 80 and above age group. So … there’s that.

I don’t think I’ve ever run a single mile with a time that starts with a single digit number. So, yeah, I’m slow. My runs take a long time, which can make fitting them into my busy schedule all the more difficult. I have to carve out a huge chunk of my day as my runs get longer and longer.

I’m terrible at pacing myself. On almost every run, my first mile is my fastest, which isn’t really how you’re “supposed” to do things. And so last night when I was cruising around my neighborhood as the sky got darker and darker, I found myself thinking, “Good gracious, this is taking forever.” And then my next thought was, “Well, it takes as long as it takes.”

And what a sense of freedom that was. The marathon I’m running has a cutoff time of 7 hours, and if it takes me the full 7, well, so be it.

Yes, a marathon will take me a long time. But it will take as long as it takes, and if I finish it, then I will have done something that a lot of people don’t even attempt. If I’m able to drag my body across the finish line, then I will have run the same 26.2 miles as the first person to cross and every single other person who finishes that day.

So each run takes as long as it takes, and while I need to know my times in order to plan accurately, it really doesn’t matter how long it takes. I reject that idea that only people who run fast should run.

The Value of Good Runs, Even if I’m a Bad Runner

There are runs that feel like magic. There are runs that I love, that I cherish with all of my soul. And the things that make them good runs are not necessarily my pace or my performance, per se. I don’t remember my fastest run.

But I remember the runs around my Nana’s neighborhood in England, the curving streets and cloudy skies and retracing the path where my running journey started. I remember the runs where I trotted through Georgia woodlands and listened to a true crime podcast while watching out for deer and skunks. I remember running in torrential rain and thinking of one of my favorite movies, repeating over and over, “This is the most important moment of your life. Commit to it.”

I remember runs where I got encouragement from other runners I passed. I remember runs where I got to stop and pet a higher than average number of dogs. Those runs are good runs. The best runs, in my opinion and experience, are not the ones where I churn my legs and make my body move faster. They’re the runs where I get to tap into what life and being alive really feels like.

Photo by Rinke Dohmen on Unsplash

And Then There Are The Bad Runs

But it’s not all sunshine and roses out there in Runville. I certainly suffer on some of my runs. Some of my runs are battles with my inner self. And let me tell you, my inner critic is loud, and that voice in my head can be downright cruel.

So bad runs provide me an opportunity to struggle, to have a bad day, and to deal with that without resorting to being mean to myself. Because being real with yourself is much more useful than being a derogatory, abusive asshole.

And that’s a skill that’s helped me delve into sorting out what I’m really going through in each moment. As someone with anxiety, one of the things I’ve learned is that my brain lies to me. It misinterprets. It overreacts in order to “protect” me. And while I cope with my anxiety much better than I used to, on my bad runs, I can practice controlling my thoughts in a way that directly translates to dealing with my anxiety.

It’s my opinion that we all can and should do hard things. What’s difficult and strenuous for me may might not be for you, so find your own version of hard. And it doesn’t have to be a physical activity. But if I only do the things that come easily to me, I’m selling myself short of the joy I get and the mental toughness I build along the way.

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

You Don’t Have to Be Great

Find the things that you love, that have value in your life, that bring you joy. And do them, if you’re not as fast or as skilled or as whatever as other people who do the same task. Do it for yourself. You deserve the right to take up space and do things badly.

Originally published at https://www.alyoder.com on July 14, 2022.

Running
Runners
Running Tips
Lifestyle
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