Thoughts while running

A little reflection on the mental noise during one not-so-easy easy run.

Training for a marathon tends to sound impressive when you say it out loud. It suggests discipline, commitment, and a certain level of self-control. But once you’re actually in it, and especially once the novelty wears off and the weeks start to blur together, it feels a lot less glamorous.

Most of it is repetition, figuring out how to work around meetings, weather, dinner plans, and minor injuries. Then there is fatigue management and the daily question of whether your legs will feel fresh or like concrete.

This isn’t my first time preparing for a marathon. I ran one a few years ago with the simple goal of crossing the finish line, which, at the time, felt like more than enough of an accomplishment (and it really was!). Since then, I’ve mostly been running half marathons. They’ve been a great challenge, enough to keep things exciting and give me something to work toward. I’d been focusing on improving my times at that distance, but I always knew I’d want to take on another full marathon at some point. In a way, all those half marathon training blocks were laying the groundwork, making me a slightly better runner with a bit more confidence and experience in my legs.

This time around, I’ve been following a training plan consistently. Every Sunday evening, I sit down and go through the week ahead, slotting in runs around work, strength sessions, and whatever else is going on. The long runs have mostly gone well, demanding but enjoyable and rewarding. The speed sessions, on the other hand, have been a different story. Most of them have left me questioning whether the time goal I set at the beginning of this block was ever realistic. Still, I kept showing up and didn’t overthink it too much.

Two weeks ago, I started to feel something off in both legs. It wasn’t intense enough to count as an injury, but it lingered just enough to make me worry it could turn into one. I booked a massage, got back on the foam roller, ran through mobility drills I’d been ignoring for a while, and finally gave the little details the attention they’d needed all along.

But the physical discomfort wasn’t really the issue. What caught me off guard was how quickly a bit of pain in my legs and some uncertainty led to a mental spiral. All of a sudden, I was questioning everything: Was I actually capable of doing this? Was the goal I had set just a bit of a stretch I had convinced myself was realistic? Was I wasting time chasing numbers that probably didn’t matter to anyone but me? The shift from “my legs hurt” to “maybe I’m not cut out for this” happened quickly, which tends to happen when your mindset doesn’t leave much room for uncertainty.

Around that same time, I had a conversation with a friend who had just run a 10K race in France. He had won the race, yet when we spoke, he said he wasn’t happy with his finish time. He had beaten everyone else on the course, and still, he wasn’t entirely satisfied with his result.

We’re incredibly skilled at raising the bar just high enough to never feel satisfied. It’s strange how easy it is to turn success into a feeling of "I could have done better," and how common it is to withhold a sense of accomplishment from ourselves, even when it’s clearly been earned.

And this pattern doesn’t just show up in running. It finds its way into everything: work, relationships, creative projects, you name it. We shift the goalposts, overthink our own expectations, and focus on what didn’t go perfectly instead of recognizing everything that did. We tell ourselves we’ll feel good once we hit a certain target, but by the time we get there, we’ve already mentally moved on to the next big thing.

Anyway, that same week when I took a bit of a break because my legs weren’t cooperating, a friend came to visit me, and my husband returned from a bikepacking trip. The shift in focus, even if it was temporary, really helped. I spent more time in conversations that had nothing to do with training plans, and that break from both running-related thoughts and the strict schedule actually felt really good.

Quick tangent! Not totally relevant here but worth mentioning. I went to parkrun with my friend on Saturday. She’s not a runner, but she was excited to join me. After the run, she asked all about proper running shoes (cuutee!! <3). The next day, she ordered a pair of ASICS Novablasts and Saucony Rides on Zalando to see which ones fit better. Today she told me they both arrived, and now she can’t decide. I told her she might as well keep both. Not the most rational advice for most people, but fellow runners will understand the necessity and the urge, haha.

Now that I’m easing back into the plan, I can feel the tension creeping in again. I keep wondering if I have enough time to get to the level of fitness I want by race day, if I should be pushing harder or holding back, if I’m doing things right or getting it completely wrong. The questions are constant, and they rarely lead to any rational answer.

Today on my easy run, I also thought back to when I first started taking running seriously. I could finish a training week and actually feel nothing but great and proud of myself, like I had accomplished something huge. Over time, the thing that started as a personal experiment can become something entirely different. We turn activities and hobbies into scorecards, then wonder why they stop being enjoyable.

I don’t have a clear resolution to any of this. I haven’t figured out the perfect mindset that lets me train hard without slipping into unnecessary self-criticism.

I’m still in it, of course, the race is still ahead, and I’m still following the plan. But I’m starting to see the need for a better, more sustainable way to carry it all.

Here are a few things I think could help, and I’m planning to gradually work more of them into my training. Probably not all at once, but I’ll experiment and see what feels good.

This is what I’m thinking:

• Interval sessions on the treadmill are convenient, but mentally brutal. I didn’t enjoy a single one. So instead, I’ll get my ass to the track or head to that long, straight stretch by the beach.

• For those 22k+ easy pace runs, I’m planning to join the running club for part of the distance, just to make it a bit more social. I’ve already done this a few times, and it works perfectly.

• I’m also giving up those processed protein snacks that mess with my stomach and sometimes force me to rearrange everything if I eat one on the day of a tough session. No bueno!!

• When I’m watching TV, I’ll throw in a short mobility session. That way, it doesn’t feel like a separate chore that needs its own time and energy.

• As for tempo runs, I either need to find a training partner or jump into parkrun if my long run isn’t scheduled for Saturday. Anything that makes them feel like less of a solo slog.

Writing this isn’t a magic fix, but putting all the mental clutter into words, especially the kind that drained me during what was supposed to be an easy run, does help.

Putting this little reminder here. Beautiful words by Josh Lynott.

Fellow runners, athletes of any kind, even creatives, if any of this resonates, feel free to share your thoughts or the little tricks that help make the process more enjoyable and sustainable.

<3

Thanks for being here. (: