Internal Combat of the Endurance Athlete: The Pisser vs. The Rock
Last weekend I got my ass handed to me. It was the perfect remedy to cure my unadulterated self-pity and lack of training. The day started innocently enough; a fun group of experienced ultra runners getting together on a clear spring day for a 35 mile trot on some of the most beautiful trails on the planet; Marin Headlands/Mt. Tam area. Wildflowers, smiles and some healthy banter were out in full force.
My goal was to start slow and taper off my speed from there. I had been having a bit of an injury issue and physical training as well as the psyche weren’t quite where they should have been.
After the first 20 miles or so, my body started to rebel. I could feel my lack of training and a little niggle of the injury resurfacing. My head wasn’t quite in the game going into this session, and as I started dropping back from the group, I took a sharp downward nosedive—mental spiraling into the black abyss of self-pity.
The conversation in my head went something like this:
The Pisser: “You pathetic whimp, you SHOULD be running stronger, get it together.”
The Rock: “Stay steady, this pace was your plan today, just get through the miles and you’ll be fine.”
The Pisser: “You’re getting your ass kicked. Pick it up. What is your problem anyway?”
The Rock: “Don’t focus on the other runners, just do what you need to take care of you. Look at the scenery and enjoy yourself.”
The Pisser: “Screw the scenery, you suck. You think you’re an athlete? - get over yourself.”
The Rock: “Don’t think about tomorrow or your race in 2 months, just be here now. Let go of the outcome. Get over your ego and let it be what it is.”
Long-time friend and training partner Luanne Park, dropped back, waited for me on the side of the trail, then tucked in behind me, as if she were supportively pacing me in a long, painful race. I was convinced that she sensed this loud internal ping-pong and had decided to intervene. I asked her if she was there to stop me from feeling sorry for myself.
She silently acknowledged my struggle, which was the perfect response. She didn’t want to blossom my self-demise by discussing it. Her silent support allowed me to notice that I had the strength to pull myself out solo - always do. That was the vote of confidence I needed.
To get my mind off of running Luanne changed the subject to something more pressing—what we were going to eat at Whole Foods post-run. Lightening the mental load was enough to break the downward spiral of failure and allow me to get on with it.
Luanne’s simple silence in the face of my struggle reminded me once again of an important lesson: As endurance athletes we have countless tough days. We have to learn to shove the ego aside otherwise we will never generate positive progress toward our goals. Punch The Pisser in the kisser and get over yourself.
I woke the next morning internally laughing. Somehow the day after a good flogging, the emotional battering looks so crazy and pointless. I realize retrospectively that it gets me no closer to my aspirations. Somehow getting my ass handed to me was the perfect elixir to getting my head back in the game.
Note: I went out this past weekend on yet another 30 mile session on an even more beautiful and tough stretch of trail: Skyline to Sea Trail in the Santa Cruz Mountains. This run was mentally seamless. I was able to follow it up by a couple more tough days. Last weeks reality check appeared to serve me quite well.
Schneider rafting in Oz during a race...
My goal was to start slow and taper off my speed from there. I had been having a bit of an injury issue and physical training as well as the psyche weren’t quite where they should have been.
After the first 20 miles or so, my body started to rebel. I could feel my lack of training and a little niggle of the injury resurfacing. My head wasn’t quite in the game going into this session, and as I started dropping back from the group, I took a sharp downward nosedive—mental spiraling into the black abyss of self-pity.
The conversation in my head went something like this:
The Pisser: “You pathetic whimp, you SHOULD be running stronger, get it together.”
The Rock: “Stay steady, this pace was your plan today, just get through the miles and you’ll be fine.”
The Pisser: “You’re getting your ass kicked. Pick it up. What is your problem anyway?”
The Rock: “Don’t focus on the other runners, just do what you need to take care of you. Look at the scenery and enjoy yourself.”
The Pisser: “Screw the scenery, you suck. You think you’re an athlete? - get over yourself.”
The Rock: “Don’t think about tomorrow or your race in 2 months, just be here now. Let go of the outcome. Get over your ego and let it be what it is.”
Long-time friend and training partner Luanne Park, dropped back, waited for me on the side of the trail, then tucked in behind me, as if she were supportively pacing me in a long, painful race. I was convinced that she sensed this loud internal ping-pong and had decided to intervene. I asked her if she was there to stop me from feeling sorry for myself.
She silently acknowledged my struggle, which was the perfect response. She didn’t want to blossom my self-demise by discussing it. Her silent support allowed me to notice that I had the strength to pull myself out solo - always do. That was the vote of confidence I needed.
To get my mind off of running Luanne changed the subject to something more pressing—what we were going to eat at Whole Foods post-run. Lightening the mental load was enough to break the downward spiral of failure and allow me to get on with it.
Luanne’s simple silence in the face of my struggle reminded me once again of an important lesson: As endurance athletes we have countless tough days. We have to learn to shove the ego aside otherwise we will never generate positive progress toward our goals. Punch The Pisser in the kisser and get over yourself.
I woke the next morning internally laughing. Somehow the day after a good flogging, the emotional battering looks so crazy and pointless. I realize retrospectively that it gets me no closer to my aspirations. Somehow getting my ass handed to me was the perfect elixir to getting my head back in the game.
Note: I went out this past weekend on yet another 30 mile session on an even more beautiful and tough stretch of trail: Skyline to Sea Trail in the Santa Cruz Mountains. This run was mentally seamless. I was able to follow it up by a couple more tough days. Last weeks reality check appeared to serve me quite well.
Schneider rafting in Oz during a race...
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