Reflections on 37
As I trudged up the steps of the visitor center after my fifth loop around Forest Park, one single thought occupied most of the real estate in my brain: “I can’t do all those hills again. No, 31 miles is probably good enough.”
The smallest of doubts flickered to life as I climbed Skinker Hill for the fifth time that day. Up until then, I felt strong and confident. The weather was perfect. My coach’s hydration and nutrition plan was working beautifully. The wall I usually collide with around mile 18 never materialized. But doubt’s a funny thing.
Once doubt infiltrates my consciousness, it doesn’t just kick back and put its feet up. It goes to work, generating thoughts of negativity that feed off each other and multiply, until I am convinced that the task at hand is impossible and it’s okay to quit.
It’s important to build up defenses against this doubt. That’s why experienced ultrarunners talk so much about mantras and other mental strategies they rely on during the most challenging moments of their races. I’m still developing those strategies, which is why it was so crucial for me to run that sixth loop and finish what I started. I can’t just absorb these skills from books and inspirational podcasts. They are tools that can only be developed by staying in the fight and pushing past my perceived limits.
Ryan Yoch is my ultrarunning coach, mentor and friend. He also guides me on many of my longer runs. As a totally blind athlete, I run with a sighted guide during races and outdoor workouts. Once he made it clear that I would be running a sixth loop whether I felt like it or not, I resumed the process of developing those tools.
Long runs can be wonderful opportunities for learning and self-reflection. One thing I learned this day is that my mind wants to give up way before my body does. For instance, a conversation about politics drowned out my defeatist inner monologue and allowed me to run comfortably for the next three miles. But it wasn’t long before doubt made one final attempt to stop me short of the goal.
During a quick bathroom break, I made the mistake of checking my watch. It said I had gone 34.7 miles, which prompted that soft, comfort-craving voice to pipe up once again: “You can run till you hit 35 miles and just walk it in from there. You told everyone 35 was the plan for today, and you did that. No need to climb that Science Center Hill for a sixth time. Tunnel Hill’s going to be flat anyway.”
This argument seemed reasonable in the moment, and I’m amazed at how quickly it worked on me. That voice has a diabolical way of making me feel good about quitting, so I have to interrupt it before it gains any traction. Thankfully, Ryan wasn’t listening to me or the voice in my head, and we finished the sixth loop.
Ryan distracted me with questions about football, and I powered through the last couple of miles. Again, there was no physical reason why I couldn’t run. My 37th mile was at a 9:30 pace, which means I still had something in the tank. My mind is where I showed weakness.
This long training run served as a dress rehearsal for the Tunnel Hill Ultra, my first attempt at a 50-miler. My biggest takeaway from this final day of preparation is that my approach to the mental side of ultra has been a bit too casual. Not only do I need to develop additional tools for persevering through the more difficult stretches, but I also need to make better use of the techniques I’ve already adopted. Fortunately, every run presents an opportunity to test and strengthen new mental strategies.