The Best Way to Improve Your Running Is to Stop Caring About Your Times So Much

Obsessing over my watch data caused me to go too far, too fast. Here’s what I learned when I paid no mind to my results

My run had all the makings of being a magical one: a rare, cool morning in July, an open field of soft grass, Utah’s Wasatch mountains in the background with rays filtering through their peaks. I was slogging through one of my first runs back after a long break. I had been sidelined by plantar fasciitis for six months and was finally given the green light to train again.

The miles were not without restriction; my wise physical therapist told me to run slowly on grass only, without my shoes for five minutes the first day, then work my way up in 30 second increments every other day until I reached seven minutes.

The directions were clear. I understood that I needed to stick to this gentle buildup to avoid a flare-up or another injury. I also knew that I was not in my best running shape. Still, when I looked down at my watch on that golden July morning and saw that I had only traveled a little over a quarter of a mile in four minutes, I panicked. How was I going so slow?

Yes, I was running barefoot, on grass, healing from an injury, but still—shouldn’t my pace be a little quicker? My rational thinking disappeared, and I tried to pick it up; I drove my knees higher, quickened my turnover, and felt my breath get ragged in my throat. Man, I thought, I am so out of shape. I checked my pace on my watch, then checked again and again.

I went beyond the time cap that my physical therapist had given me just to say I ran a whole mile. At the end, I didn’t feel accomplished or proud. I felt frustrated, stiff, and a little sick—and my foot hurt.

I knew I could not push like this day after day … again. In the last two years, obsessing over the stream of data pouring from my GPS watch had caused me to go too far, too fast, which many runners know is the recipe for overuse injuries and burnout. This recovery cycle needed to be different to save my running life.

I knew I needed to stop caring about results. Here’s what I’ve learned so far.

Don’t believe your ego

Why do we push too hard in training? During that slow, grassy run, what in my brain needed to see the little numbers on my watch tick up to a mile? The easy answer? My ego.

In one of my favorite books of all time, The Inner Game of Tennis, author Timothy Gallwey describes the concept of the ego in sports as Self 1. The other self, Self 2, is your body. This is the being that knows how to swing a racket, or in our case, how to put one foot in front of the other. It knows running mechanics, what each stride should feel like, and how fast to go. Unfortunately, Self 2 is often under the tyrannical expectations and pressure of Self 1.

Self 1 is your thinking self. In running, your Self 1 is often analyzing splits and paces and pestering your body to speed up, slow down, go farther, or be better. Basically, your “thinking” self cares too much and thus tries too hard. To run at your peak, you must master the art of relaxed performance and allow your body the freedom to take over and do the work.

Knowing that your mind and body are sometimes at odds with each other is helpful in trying to combat the critical self. For a few weeks, the most effective tool I had to stop my Self 1 from spoiling my runs was to yell “Who cares?!” at myself every time I started to judge my performance. I had to snap myself out of a state of constant analysis. This method, though strange, did help quiet the thinking self.

Learn to trust yourself

Ideally, we want our mind to be sending out signals that say, “Hey, body, I trust you. I’m not going to waste your time. I’m just going to shut up and enjoy the ride.” But how do we learn to let go and believe in the power of our extremities?

Here’s a simple test I learned from Austin Haws, D.P.T., a physical therapist at Fyzical Therapy and Balance Centers in American Fork, Utah. Stand on one foot for 30 seconds, then switch feet. Once you’re able to do this with ease, then you can take the real test: Close your eyes and stand on one foot. Try to hold for 30 seconds. Repeat on the other foot. This was one of the first exercises I did to help build trust between my body and mind.

If you can stand on one foot with your eyes closed for 30 seconds, then great. Your brain is likely letting your body do the work for you without trying to control everything. If it is tough for you to maintain your balance with your eyes closed, try this before you close your eyes: Remind your mind that your body is in one place, and it is not moving.

Sometimes just communicating with your body about what to do is enough to stop all that wobbling around. If standing on one foot with your eyes closed is simple for you, try to exceed the 30 seconds and record your best effort. If you can’t make it to 30 seconds, then jot down how long you can hold it for. Practice every day. Your mind is very strong, and if your mind thinks your body is capable of handling a task, your body will do it.

This will translate to running. You can try this type of simple mind-body communication and trust-test in your training, especially if you are an intermediate or advanced runner whose body knows the feeling of different paces. If this is you, try running a tempo run without a watch. Simply set a timer for the duration of the run and tell your body to run the pace you want to hit.

Just breathe

I can hear runners all over saying, “Wait a minute, I really don’t know what the pace I’m supposed to be running feels like.” That’s okay. You will get there the more you learn to trust your body. But until then, turn your awareness to your breath.

If your breath is ragged and you’re unable to speak during a training run, that means you are going too fast. Remember how I couldn’t breathe on that day when my ego told me to go faster? I was spitting and coughing—a sure sign I was running beyond my fitness level. The beauty of controlling your breath is that it allows you to get the most out of your run. You build your aerobic capacity by training properly instead of merely wearing yourself down.

So instead of caring about your speed, focus on how and when you are breathing. In his book Running on Air, famed running coach Budd Coates explains breath patterns. If you inhale for three steps (in/right footstep; in/left footstep; in/right footstep), then exhale for two (out/left; out/right), you should be able to sustain an even training pace, prevent overstriding, and feel great.

Breath work also lets your mind relax. Your ego self is given a distraction. That over-analyzing pain in the you-know-what must count, step, and breathe. Meanwhile, the runner you’re meant to be takes over. It’s like a moving meditation that keeps you very tuned in and focused and could launch you into flow.

So, is this all for the flow?

Eventually I yelled “who cares?!” at myself enough times that I felt comfortable leaving my watch at home. As I built mileage up, I would tell my body at the beginning of each run what the plan was. I’d say something like, “Okay, today we are going to run for 25 minutes, very easy.”

When I made the decision to stop caring about my pace, and instructed my mind to trust my body, and attempted to be present in my breath, something awesome happened. One beautiful afternoon, I experienced one of those magical flow runs. You’ve probably heard of this concept of flow, or the zone, or whatever buzzword you want to throw out there to describe that state of ecstasy when you are so fully present doing something that the rest of the world melts away.

I consulted sports psychologist and runner Hillary Israelsen, M.S., to ask if my “I don’t give a crap” attitude could have helped facilitate the flow run. She said it probably came down to newfound focus.

“The more mindful you are, the more likely you are to achieve flow in practice or competition,” she said.

I wasn’t interrupting myself by checking my splits or how far I had to go. Perhaps more importantly, I wasn’t judging myself. I was just running.

Israelsen told me that with a lot of mindfulness practice, runners can experience that brilliant state more often. But of course, if you care too much about reaching flow state, you are not going to reach flow state.

“You can’t force flow,” she said. “But you can practice quieting your thoughts.”

Here’s the bottom line: You know how to run. When you are out on the road or trail, grinding away, you should not have to care about how fast, slow, or far you must go every single session. Don’t analyze your running while you are running—that is the “critical” self trying to interfere and all that thinking can slow you down. One of the greatest gifts you can give yourself is running free. So take off your watch, shake away your thoughts, and go out, feel your breath, and get grounded in the run.

posted Saturday September 25th
by Runner’s World