Running Is Simple. I Just Overthink It.
In theory, running is simple. Put on shoes and go.
In reality, I haven’t figured out how to do it without thinking about every possible variable along the way.
Running clears my head. My brain just uses the extra space to over analyze everything.
Here are five things I contantly overthink on the run:
THE PLAYLIST
I envy those who can go out on a run with nothing in their ears. I am not one of those people. For me, I need the right playlist or podcast for each run.
Easy days get a podcast; Run Your Story, Doctors of Running, What Did You Do Yesterday, Claret and Blue, or Guardian Football Weekly.
Speed days are music; 2000s pop punk, K-pop, something with energy.
Long runs get movie soundtracks, the kind that make it all feel a little more important than it is.
And races…well, that is a different level entirely. That playlist gets curated all week leading up to race day.
If I get it right, everything clicks. If I get it wrong, it doesn’t ruin the run, but it definitely feels like it does.
THE WEATHER
You can control most everything on a run except the weather. And if you live in Mobile, you know that even predicting it feels like a gamble. If you do not like it, just wait a couple of hours and it will be something else entirely.
I am not scared of running in bad weather, but it is nice when you can at least plan around it. I usually do not have that luxury, so instead I try to prepare for everything.
Rain jackets, hats, gloves, leggings, tank tops, split shorts. I think I have more running clothes for different weather scenarios than I do regular clothes.
And even then, it is still a guessing game. It is 50 but the sun is out. It is 75 but somehow 95% humidity. It is 90 but there is a summer storm building.
Every little factor goes into deciding what to wear, and I still manage sometimes to get it slightly wrong.
THE ACHES
There is that moment on a run where a small ache shows up and immediately becomes the only thing I can think about.
It might be nothing. It might go away in a few seconds. Or it might be the start of something that sidelines me for weeks. The problem is there is no way to know which one it is in the moment.
So I spiral a little. One slight ache turns into a full internal conversation. Is this the end of my running journey? Can I make it one more mile? Should I stop now or see if it works itself out?
Then it goes away, and I feel fine. And then it comes back, and I am right back where I started, wondering if it was ever nothing to begin with or if I am just making it something.
THE EFFORT
Be honest, how often are your easy runs actually 'easy'?
I will go first. Not as often as they should be.
It turns into a battle between effort and ego, and ego usually shows up early and refuses to leave. I know what my pace should be, I know what my effort should feel like, and somehow I still push it just a little more than I need to.
I tried running without my watch once, just going on feel, and it did not last long. I kept looking down at a pale blank wrist where a watch should be. I need the data, even if all it really does is give me something else to think about.
Speed days are not much better. Did I go out too hard on that first interval? Was that rep too slow? Should I adjust, or stick to the plan? Every run turns into a review while I am still in it.
THE PERCEPTION
If you read last week’s blog, you know I struggle with what other people might think. I am working on it, but it still finds its way into my runs more than I would like.
A car drives by and I straighten up my form without thinking. I see someone ahead and suddenly I am running a little faster than I was a second ago.
There is even that moment where you want to tell a random person walking their dog that you are on mile five and not just barely hanging on at the start of a run. I have never actually said it, but I have definitely thought about it.
Even the small things get pulled into it. The hat has to match the shirt, which has to match the shorts, which has to match the socks, which has to match the shoes. On race day I usually just go with all black, if only to give myself one less thing to overthink.
I have a way of making running more complicated than it needs to be. Every run turns into a series of small decisions, second guesses, and unnecessary thoughts that somehow all feel important in the moment. And yet, I keep showing up for it.
