When Running Isn’t Always Healthy. 11 Ways I’m Abusing Myself With Running.
The inspiration for this post came from a wonderful article by a Mr Simon Lamb who wrote about how to avoid becoming injured as a runner, as a guest post on The Running Beans.
It got me thinking to the many ways that I’ve been damaging myself with jogging unintentionally.
- I never really stop to celebrate a run – It’s always about the next run and what went wrong the the last one. It seems like I’m on a never ending treadmill (pardon the pun) and I can’t win.
- I’m negative about being negative when I’m moving – I don’t care what all of you hippy cunts say, it’s natural to have negative thoughts in your head when you’re running. What’s dangerous is being negative about being negative. Saying things like “Christ, I’m such a negative fucking freak!” doesn’t help you. Accept that the negative thoughts are there but they don’t mean anything until you associate or engage with them. Mind confetti covered in the Devil’s shit. Brush it off your shoulder.
- My boozing on the night before races is harmful – Las Vegas was the worst for this. I drank a shit ton on the evening before the marathon and then had 2 margaritas on the morning of the race itself. I’m just asking for my heart to shit itself.
- I’m not running nearly enough for fun – It’s always about making progress in terms of speed and distance but never about achieving any sort of peace. All of this is fueled by the false notion that I’ll never be good enough and that I’m a fraud. I still compare myself to other runners every day and it’s never favorably.
- My refusing to stop to walk and being terrified of doing so is damaging – I still can’t accept that stopping to walk is OK on a scheduled training run. I tell myself that I’m cheating and/or giving in. Real men run until their legs explode.
- Leaving all of my training for the last few months before the event is suicidal – I never take the easy and sensible approach to race training. Take this upcoming 100k for example. I’ve still to do any runs significantly over the 20 mile mark. I’m just assuming that I’ll somehow be able to run that far. It’s a trap I’ve fallen into in nearly ever race I’ve ran and it doesn’t work.
- Never focusing on running whilst I’m doing it is a waste – My mind is always elsewhere. In the few times where I concentrate solely on the act of moving, the run always feel like such a fucking success. I rarely get there though, it’s always “how many minutes left? what am I gonna eat after the run? What if I pump my arms too hard on the home straight and they cramp up on my post-run wank? “
- Becoming so angry whilst on the run hurts no one but myself – I still can’t control my temper when I’m out there. I just end up hating everyone and everything too fucking much and it doesn’t help in the slightest with my running. It’s very difficult to run a negative split when you get into a fist fight on the last mile.
- Running to try to cure my mental health problems just doesn’t work – Instead of addressing shit directly I assume that if I throw enough running at them then eventually everything will work itself out. But yeah, running is cheaper than therapy isn’t it?
- Working against my body instead of with it results in injury – I become full of anger if I’m unable to sustain a pace. Instead of accepting that my lack of endurance comes from eating too much pie and not enough practice, I convince myself that I’m just not good enough and then the pity party begins.
- Caring too much is just all around bad – Running should be about freedom, not about crushing pressure. I want to go gallivanting in Brecon Beacon Country Park with my cock in a sling. No more Garmin’s ever again. From now on I want running to be like when I was a kid.