Calf-Boy beats his bluffing brain
When I was pacing at the Ottawa half marathon, I met a fellow who told me he’d missed a few runs in the weeks leading up to the race, as he had been running on his treadmill when something in his calf just went wrong and had been sore ever since. It felt better than it had, he told me, so he planned to run anyway, even if he had to take it easy.
Now, when I am pacing, people come and go – they drift back or leave me behind – and sometimes I don’t notice who is still with me and who is gone right away; after all, there is a lot to see and do and think about in this situation. So I didn’t know when it happened, or even what happened, but I did notice at some point that he was not with me anymore.
Towards the end of the race – maybe within the final 4K or so – he reappeared at my side. He said, “Remember me? It’s calf-boy!” He told me that at 6K, his calf told him his race was over, and he let me go; at 6-and-a-half, he told it, “Not today!” and spent all the time in-between catching up to me (not a direct quote – there may have been an expletive or two deleted there).
We had a funny conversation that is not really relevant to my point, but I will share it anyway:
Calf-Boy: Wait, we have to get over to that side of the canal, don’t we?
Me: Yes.
CB: Uh oh, my calf isn’t going to like that.
Me: It’s okay, it’s all flat from here.
CB: But we have to cross a bridge!
Me: Yes, but it’s the Pretoria bridge!
CB: But we have to get up onto the bridge!
Me: Nah, Pretoria’s flat – it’s at street level.
I guess that was all he needed to hear because he slowly left me behind after that.
Anyway, my point is, that’s kind of what running is about, isn’t it? Still recognizing that everyone’s goals are different, there is a fundamental theme that just may be nearly universal: pushing oneself outside one’s comfort zone, learning, growing, finding one’s limits – and then destroying them.
I am not an advocate of ignoring what your body is telling you – I believe we should absolutely listen to our bodies! But we also need to critically analyze what they are telling us.
Had I listened to what my body was telling me and done what it wanted when I first started running, I wouldn’t have run more than once. My body said “this is hard,” it said “this doesn’t feel good” and it said “please stop.” Obviously, I decided not to listen.
Once during a marathon, my body said “this is hard,” it said “this doesn’t feel good,” and it said “please stop” – wait, it says that during every marathon. But the time I saw spots in front of my eyes I decided my body wasn’t kidding around, I did what it said. I won’t lie: to this day I still wonder if I truly had to stop there or not, because naturally, when I did what my body wanted, it felt better, leaving me with a lingering doubt.
And that’s okay. Because as we are learning what the signs really are, whether the messages we are receiving are actually from our bodies, or rather from our brains trying to protect our bodies, sometimes we will choose caution, while other times we will push those boundaries. If we are lucky, we will be right every time. Of course when we go the cautious route, most of the time we’ll never know if we were right – and that’s okay too.
But you have to admit, on the occasions where you call your brain’s “body says stop” bluff and you’re right, and you push yourself just a little further than you thought you could go, it feels pretty darned good, no matter what outcome you are shooting for.