(Beer) Running Update No. 3: The Psychology of Running Hits Home

I’m breaking zero new ground when I say the psychology of running is as important as the physical elements. Still, I’ve learned a complete appreciation for this concept comes only through personal experience. Even then, the lessons keep changing, tossing sadistic pop-quizzes into the road right when you decide you’ve figured it out.

Last year, my first year of running, my mind was filled with the typical questions and psychological quandaries you’d expect for a newbie runner.  What am I capable of? What’s a technical fabric?  What should I be eating?  When do I eat? How do I fuel? What’s a tempo run? How do I train? Recover? What’s that pain? How do I push through the days when I really don’t want to be running? Joining the Run Wild Missoula marathon training group helped answer some of those questions, but determination answered many more.

This year, I feel like a runner, albeit a middle-of-the-pack recreational one. I spent the first two months of the year building up my base.  Since March 6, I’ve again been training with the Run Wild Missoula marathon training class, setting my sights on my first marathon.  Now that I know the drill, so to speak, my mind has been able to focus on experimentation rather than trying to stay upright.  Nutrition, pacing, negative splits, and hill work have replaced right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. 

Remember those pop quizzes I mentioned? The first one struck in February.  The shoes that propelled me through my first year of running  – Mizuno Wave Rider 13 – were replaced by a new model. I was actually happy about this, figuring I had a perfect excuse to step up to new technology. I’d be faster, lighter, and better all around, right?  About 25 miles into the new shoes I had a tendon pain on my left foot that was weird and getting worse.  I shrugged it off, thinking it was the normal aches and pains of building up the miles. Fifty miles in? I was about to quit running due to the pain. In 1000+ miles, the Wave Rider 13s always fit perfectly, never coming untied or even serving up the slightest blister.  Yes, it was the shoes.  Now what?

At this point I was on vacation in San Diego and miles away from my favorite running store.* I found a local specialty shop and got fitted into a new pair of Brooks. I like them, though they don’t have the same lateral support. The shop owner also gave me a great deal on some discontinued New Balance shoes that I liked about equally well.  The pain in my left foot immediately dropped a couple notches.  After a couple of weeks the pain was gone. Still, you never forget your first love.

Three weeks ago, about 200 miles into the new Brooks, I started feeling a pain in my right foot below my ankle during a 17 mile training run. (It was supposed to be a 16 miler, but I kind of screwed that up.) The pain didn’t get better after my Monday rest day.  My Tuesday run was painful throughout and the Wednesday group run of 12 miles just plain sucked.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, just a dull discomfort with each and every step. Now what?

Is it the shoes? Sudden injury? Repetitive motion injury? Old and worn out? I don’t remember any kind of acute injury, like stepping in a pot hole. That had me more worried. A repetitive motion injury wasn’t likely to get better without a lot of down time. Uggh.  Not now.  Psychological overdrive.

I took three days off, missing two shorter training runs.  Sunday rolled around with an 18 miler.  It went fine, but that pain was there for each step. Each step. Each step. Each step.  It drives you batty. I spent Monday wondering what to do. It wasn’t getting worse. It wasn’t getting better. After a run on Tuesday, I drove over to one of Missoula’s sports injury clinics to figure out what was going on.

Truth be told, I felt a little sheepish walking into the clinic. I didn’t have any nasty bruising, bright red swelling, or an Igor like limp.**  I had an annoying pain, though it wasn’t going away.  One of my running partners sought treatment for a toe injury that will require some light surgery after the marathon. He mentioned how much better he felt just getting a diagnosis and a plan for dealing with it.  That sentiment is what got me into the clinic. I had to convince myself I was worthy of seeking treatment for a running injury. Weird, eh?  There’s that mental thing again.

X-rays ruled out a stress fracture and arthritis. Whew. Diagnosis? Peroneal tendonitis. Treatment? Rest, mostly, followed by stretching and strengthening. Uggh. Not now. Not with hundreds of training miles under my feet.  Not with the marathon training in full swing.  Not with my first 20 miler coming up the following Sunday. So I asked the doc: let’s just assume for the sake of argument I was foolish enough not to follow the treatment plan. What’s the worst that could happen? Apparently, I could significantly lengthen the time it would take to get better once I decided to start following the treatment plan. But hey, at least I knew what it was, what it wasn’t, and where it could go. My running partner was right. Just knowing made it feel better.

Then a funny thing happened.  While over in Helena for a presentation, I stopped at a sporting goods store to look for something when I spotted my favorite shoes on the shelf. Could it be? What were the odds they’d have my size left?  I hadn’t found a single pair in my size despite far too much internet surfing. Turns out, they had two pair in my size 11s. I bought them both. Fast. 

Now seventy miles into the new pair of my old favorite shoes, the pain in my foot is getting better. I’ve done all of the training runs.  The pain isn’t gone, but my foot feels stronger and I feel like I’m out of the woods.  Is it the shoes? Did I have an acute injury rather than tendonitis?  I’m not sure I’ll ever know. I’m also not sure what I’ll do when my last pair of Wave Rider 13s wears out later this year. It’s not fun repeatedly plunking down $100 for the pleasure of another physical/psychological experiment. For now, my mind trusts the shoes I’m in. 

I also learned last week the reason my backside hurts where my hamstring meets my glutes is because my ass isn’t strong enough. Great. Like I needed that to worry about, too. Apparently, if you’ve got a weak ass, it doesn’t fire properly and your hamstrings over-compensate in picking up the slack.  Or something like that.  Try not to think about it on your next run.

Without a doubt, the single biggest psychological boost for me comes from running with other people.  I learned that lesson last year, but there’s been a shift with this year’s training group.  Last year’s group provided great motivation to get out and do the tough runs, but my runs remained mostly solo affairs even surrounded by other runners.  This years group has a greater air of camaraderie and support. Its odd, given that many of the 300 group members are repeats like me. Still, there’s less of a competitive edge and more of an outgoing friendliness.  Who knows. Maybe all it takes is a few new faces eager for running endorphins.  Hell, maybe I’m friendlier this year.  Whatever the reason, my group runs aren’t solo anymore.  They’re with a collection of 6, 7, 8, or even more regular running partners amongst the many others who turn up for our twice weekly group training runs.

Whether we’re running 6 or 20 miles, the conversation never stops. We bounce training ideas off each other. We talk nutrition and fuel. Check in on injuries. Discuss strategy. Discuss life. Commiserate over steep inclines. Rejoice in speedy downhills. Of course we talk about beer, too.  One of my running partners says I always speed up when we get on the subject. It all helps the miles pass by.

We don’t race each other. There’s no need.  We know who qualified for Boston and who’s happy just to finish. We celebrate when someone’s having a strong day.  We drop back and pull each other along when a tough day rears its head.  It’s this collective spirit that lets each of us work on individual goals while surrounded by community support. Now that’s psychology I can embrace.

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* When you’re in Missoula, stop by Runners Edge at 325 N. Higgins Avenue. Anders, Tim, Meg, Vicky, John and the rest of the gang know what they’re doing. Even better, they don’t pay lip service to those of us runners who are far from elite.  They provide real support to runners and walkers of all abilities.

** Bonus points if you got the Young Frankenstein reference.