by Stephanie Barstad, PT, DPT, Runner
When was your first mental battle with running? Mine was when I was 14 years old, but as I write this, it feels like yesterday, and I feel like a failure all over again.
I grew up playing team sports. I played basketball and soccer throughout most of my childhood, then I was talked into joining the cross-country team in high school. My middle school track coach must have seen something in me because he asked what I would be doing in the fall my freshman year. I thought volleyball as I had played that too in middle school. However, he suggested I think about cross country. So, I did, and my running journey began. That fall was the first time I realized runners are a crazy (but fun) group of people. I also realized that doing crazy training runs can together can turn you into a close-knit group. It still felt like a team sport to me and I was pretty good at it, especially for a Freshman. I qualified for state as a Freshman in high school, which was rare in my hometown!
However, it was just me. My team did not make it and no others made it as individuals. It would be the first time I would compete feeling so alone, and I didn’t like it. My coaches tried. There was another girl on the team who came with and bunked with me. We all went out to eat and even to a movie. They tried to keep things light and fun.
Then on race day, I was so nervous and just couldn’t shake it. It was a beautiful course, but I didn’t really appreciate it. I couldn’t get out of my own head. I started the race (alone without my team) and never really found my groove. (My heart is starting to pound and I’m getting anxious even as I’m typing this, despite how long it has been since this day.) I passed one coach while I was still doing fairly well, and he cheered me on. Then I passed the other coach and he cheered me on. However, I then started trying to find ways to get out of it. I couldn’t just stop, but maybe if someone bumped me and I fell or I tripped over a root or something, I could stop. Yet, my feet kept going. Unfortunately, my mind eventually overtook my body, and I . . . made myself fall.
That is so hard to write, but it is the truth. (I haven’t talked about this at all since it happened.) No one was allowed to help me up or I would be disqualified, so no one did., But they made sure I was ok and encouraged me to get back up and keep going. And so, I did. But then I made myself fall again. I just couldn’t do it, didn’t want to do it, couldn’t get rid of these thoughts in my head. However, I again got up and kept going. I finished that race, despite it all, but then I had to face my coaches.
They were worried and confused, not mad. “You were up in the first wave of runners,” they said, “and then you weren’t. What happened? I had to tell them I fell. I’m sure I didn’t explain it well. I’m sure they asked how and why and I shrunk away not sure how to explain it. They must have figured it out; I’m not sure because we never really talked about it again. Then I had to go through the whole conversation with my parents too. They must have understood it too, I guess, because later my dad would give me a book called Running Within, a Guide to Mastering the mMind-body-spirit to Enhance Training and Racing.
That was the end of my Freshman cross country year and the first time I fought the mental battle with which so many runners deal. Of course, my 14-year-old brain did not know how to process those emotions and thoughts. My 36-year-old brain can now do much better, but it took a lot of time and training to become more mentally tough. However, it can be done even though it is a struggle for a lot of us. There are so many pressures on young athletes. We put a lot on ourselves too without knowing how to get ourselves out of it. I am no expert on mental health or improving mental toughness, but I have learned to enjoy running, for myself. I set my own goals and sometimes don’t tell anyone what they are. Yet they are always there so that I have some reason to keep pushing myself. That is how we grow.
