I'm honest enough with myself to know that I am by no means physiologically gifted when it comes to athletic endeavours. I'm an average, middle of the pack athlete and will never compete at an elite level in any sport.
Going into my run yesterday though, I had no doubt that I would (not could) reach the goals that I'd set myself. I made a mental pact with myself to push my body to the level that was required to achieve my goal. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my body was capable of running as fast as I needed it to, I just needed to convince my mind that it was OK to suffer through the pain that is the unfortunate side-effect of this sort of extreme effort.
If you've ever seen Jens Voigt dishing out pain on the front of the Tour De France peloton, you will have some idea of what I'm talking about. By his own admission, Jens is not the best, fastest or strongest rider in professional cycling. His true gift is his ability to transcend the screaming pain in his body to continue to "suffer" until his rivals are beaten or his own strength gives out. His famous quote "Shut Up Legs!" perfectly encapsulates his disdain for the weakness of the flesh.
Over the years, I've realised that one of my real strengths is in this ability to ignore the physical pain and continue to push myself. I'm certainly not claiming to be anything like Jensie, but I was lucky enough to come to a startling, and very simple realisation some years ago. The pain won't kill me, and it is going to go away almost as soon as I stop. With this in mind, I've found it a lot easier to reach a much higher level of performance than I previously had.
Obviously hard, regular and effective training is the key to go faster and further, but I truly believe that mental toughness is often the difference between winning, or for the majority of us, finishing a hard race or beating a previous PR.
So how do you get mentally tough? I think there are some people that are just naturally blessed with the ability to put pain aside and push themselves past what should be possible. For the rest of us, it's something that can be trained and strengthened.
The first step is to make a deal with yourself not to quit when things get hard. It sounds simplistic and a bit cheesy, but it really is incredibly effective. Just making this sort of mental agreement is a very powerful way of avoiding the all too frequent easing off when the lactic acid kicks in and your lungs are screaming.
Distraction is probably the best way to keep going whilst you are actually running, riding or swimming (or whatever else you do). Listening to music, observing people around you or the scenery you are passing are great ways to take your mind of the suffering you are going through. I often promise myself that I'll stop when I reach a point ahead, and then just prior to reaching it, set another point.
Visualisation. Such a fancy sounding concept, but just boils down to imagining how it will feel and look when you achieve your goal. I almost always imagine myself running down the finishing chute of an Ironman race through the noise of the crowd and Craig Alexander languishing in my wake.
So when I went on my 15km run yesterday, I made an ironclad promise to myself that I would run faster than I had before in order to defeat the current record holders of the segments I was targeting. I imagined the satisfaction that I would feel when I looked down to see the time I needed on the Strava screen.
And then I ran. I pushed myself hard from the start, and put my faith in my fitness and my ability to keep going. When I got to the 12km mark, I knew I still had some strength in my legs, but my lungs were screaming, I had a stitch and my shoulders were tightening up. I closed my eyes and just told myself that it would all be over in less than 12 minutes. 12 minutes of intense discomfort seems like a long time when you are in the moment, but I tried to put it into perspective. It was less than 20% of the time I'd already put in and a minuscule amount of time in comparison to the time I'd take gloating over the result on my laptop. The time passed so slowly that I thought for the last 100 metres that time had stopped.
And then it was over. I was double over gasping for air. My legs felt like they were on fire and sweat was running off me like a river. Within five minutes all of this was over. I felt fine. Tired, a bit sore, but fine. The pain had passed, like I knew it would, and I couldn't wait to get home to check my result.
Lance Armstrong once said "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If i quit, however, it lasts forever."
These are words that I tell myself all too frequently.
