Sunday, 9 October 2022

Relax into your stress - A gradual move from pain to enjoyment

A few weeks ago I wrote something about why I run. At that point, in a time of crisis, running was a way of obliterating myself physically to give me some respite from my overthinking mind. To bring me back into the present moment and to stop me being swamped by sadness and anxiety.

At a time when other parts of my life had come apart, and I was full of self-doubt, with running I was trying to prove that in at least one thing, I can succeed. To salvage something out of the ashes.

At that point I mostly only enjoyed running after it was over. The relaxation was all in the recovery.

But trying so hard like that I was running like an ironing board on legs. The tin man before he got any oil. Tense, straining, anxious, restless, impatient.

Running in August. Mostly pain
When I got to the point by the end of August that my calf muscles felt ready to snap I realised I needed to calm down a bit.

Ten years ago I went on a cycling trip in India. One day I'd cycled all day and I was lost and couldn't find my accommodation and I was feeling quite frantic when I bumped into an English lady called Lorna picking up litter in the street. Apart from Dean who I was travelling with, hers was the first English voice I'd heard for a few days.

Meeting Lorna 

She told me to "relax into my stress'. I don’t know exactly what that means, but that phrase often comes back to me when I'm running. And I've thought of it often since the end of August.

You've probably heard stories of babies sometimes surviving car or plane crashes or falls out of windows. I've always believed this was because they've not aware of the danger so they don't tense up.

But I looked it up here. Babies can get stressed just like the rest of us but their sometime survival is more to do with biology then psychology. They're soft and light and squidgy. They don't get thrown about in the same way as heavier, more rigid people so they're more equipped for impact. And their lungs work better then older people's who have knackered theirs, so they have a better chance of still being able to breathe even when they're under the rubble of a collapsed building.

So since the beginning of September I decided to run more like a baby and less like the tin man  To be light and flexible and as if I’ve got new lungs (yes, I realise this analogy doesn't really work because babies can't run but just go with it). As it turns out, the closest you can get to having new lungs is to join a running club. Running interval sessions in particular is like taking them into The Repair Shop.

September - a state approaching enjoyment

And generally I've tried not to be so desperate and tense and impatient about everything. Not just running but also to stop worrying so much about forming new connections and relationships. Just to let things happen in their own time.

In the last two weeks I've equalled my two fastest ever patkruns times. During both those runs there were points where I was ready to tense up and I tried to remember to relax into that stress. To be soft and light like a baby.

Stats - Boring as shit to some people but practically what I live for!

Obviously a large part of running faster will be down to 3 months spent at the running club. And I still have the benefit of all those tensed up runs in July and August in the bank. I'm not saying it's all down to relaxing more. But recently I've just tried to stop trying so hard.

And in the last few weeks I've also noticed a shift in how I FEEL about running. I've started to enjoy it DURING as well as AFTER IT'S OVER. Part of this is down to getting fitter but it's also down to the people I run with now, whose company helps the miles fly by unnoticed.

Me in October - At a turning point (literally)

Babies are also famous for being full of wonder and curiosity about the world around them. For generally being interested in things. The more time I spend running and talking with other people and finding out about their lives, the easier it is to switch off my own inner monologue. And the more I go to different places and notice the world around me, the less time and attention I have left to think about ways that my life hasn't gone to plan.  Gradually, I'm learning to relax into my stress.

I'm not an idiot. I also know that part of all this is just adaptation, the way time works. The longer ago things happened, the easier they are to live with. The past is still there, and I haven't forgotten anything, but it's just not as heavy, it doesn't press on me with as much urgency. Like me when I run, it’s got softer and lighter on its feet.