Psychological Lessons Learned Over 100 Miles
- Nov 16, 2023
- 6 min read
Updated: Nov 17, 2023
Written by: Mark Wilkes, Executive Contributor
Executive Contributors at Brainz Magazine are handpicked and invited to contribute because of their knowledge and valuable insight within their area of expertise.
Marathon running was not a mass-participation sport until the 70’s and 80’s. It has experienced massive growth since then. Ultra-running, that is, running distances in excess of the marathon distance, has remained niche for much longer. While marquee races like UTMB in France attract thousands of participants, most ultra-distance races are smaller affairs, mostly run on trails through undeveloped forestland or mountains, with field numbers capped by things like forest service permits. Distances in these types of races range from 50 kilometers to several hundred miles. For most ultra-runners, however, the 100-mile distance is the gold standard.
What possesses someone to lace up their shoes and set off running, fully aware that they will likely still be running when 24 hours pass? Maybe 30 hours. In some instances, even longer.
I have an idea that is related to the human need to encounter adversity, both physical and psychological. In my own family history, I need look back only two generations to find ancestors whose livelihood depended on what they could extract from the land in the form of crops and animals. Their lives were filled with physical toil and jobs that didn’t adhere to general working hours. If a storm was coming, the job ended when all the hay was in the barn, whether that took four hours or fourteen. Adversity was visited upon these people whether they wanted it or not. Their lives depended on what we would call in the psychological world, resilience.
My profession as a psychotherapist has next to zero physical adversity. I sit in a comfortable chair in a climate-controlled office, where I converse with people. I drive home in a climate-controlled car, listening to whatever music, podcast, or audiobook I want, to a similarly climate-controlled home where I have a relative abundance of food, entertainment, and comfort. I never worry about getting the hay in before the storm. My physical adversity is something that I have to invent. And I invented it by way of endurance sports.
Whether you run your neighborhood 5k, an ultra-trail event, ride your bike, or go Nordic skiing, you are creating an opportunity for both physical and psychological adversity. Something that psychologists and philosophers have noticed is essential for creating or uncovering meaning in your life. Studies have demonstrated that skills learned and employed in endurance sports also carry over into other areas of life. Most of these skills can be filed under the heading of “resilience.”
So what goes into resilience, and why is it important during endurance sports and other aspects of life? The theory goes that we, as humans, like to find a level of homeostasis. Homeostasis is a state in which we feel comfortable. Note that comfortable is not the same as optimal, good, or even passible. We may develop dysfunctional homeostasis when that is what we are familiar with. The usual example is an abusive relationship where the idea of leaving into the unknown is more frightening than the known of staying. When we are in our state of homeostasis, life will come along and disrupt that state. This could be a job loss, a birth, death, breakup, or something positive like a promotion or an inheritance from that rich uncle. Or, homeostasis may be disrupted at mile 64 of your 100-mile trail ultra. In this, we see that disruption may be foisted upon us by fate, or we may seek it out. In either instance, we are presented with the opportunity to respond to adversity and disruption and to determine how we will react to the unknown or the element outside our control.
Perhaps the population attracted to endurance sports has already created an adaptive resilience style. They may seek to hone that style further in the arbitrary act of putting one foot in front of the other for a specified time or distance. Studies on this question have shown that endurance athletes typically possess an ability to approach the destruction of homeostasis constructively and to reintegrate the experience in a manner that leads to growth. Some psychological elements that underlie this ability are the possession of self-efficacy or the idea that you have the capacity to handle the present problem and a meeting of basic psychological needs, which may be another indicator of psychological self-efficacy or autonomy. They also have the ability to continue in forward movement until the goal is reached or the objective completed. In the literature, this is referred to as locomotion, whether in reference to physical movement or the ability to bring in the metaphorical hay before the storm.
A couple of weeks ago, I completed my first 100-mile trail run. I had completed several shorter distance ultra-marathons previous to this, but nothing that would suggest that I was a shoo-in for success at the 100-mile distance. I did, however, have a couple of things going for me. One was a good coach. Someone who had completed the distance several times and is way faster than I’ll ever be. That helped me to be confident and develop self-efficacy over the course of my training bloc. When my coach would say something like, “Yeah, your training is dead on; just keep doing what you’re doing,” or “You’re going to kill it at your race; you’re so prepared,” I was able to foster the belief that I was capable, that I had done the requisite work and possessed the necessary fitness and mental approach to carry me though.
The second thing that allowed me to come to the start line in possession of a high degree of self-efficacy was the hours I spent every week helping other people with their psychological approach to stress, life changes, and specifically sporting challenges. Working with marathoners and triathletes allowed me to simultaneously hone a psychological approach that would have my mind in great condition. Between the mental and physical preparation and focusing on the process during training, I came to the race feeling confident.
I wrote earlier about the idea of locomotion or maintaining consistent forward movement until the objective is reached. This, above all other mental approaches, was the most important. And as I write about it, I’m certain that you, the reader, have already noticed that this principle is not limited to running. When I look at my run data and my position in the field, I notice that at each aid station, I would leap up the standings. This was because of a pre-race plan to spend no more than two minutes per aid station. I would go in, be efficient, and get out, maintaining forward movement. People who spent even thirty seconds longer than me would be passed. I executed this plan from start to finish, moving up in the field at every checkpoint. I am certain that I finished ahead of many runners who were more talented, better trained, and more prepared than I was but who did not employ that idea of consistent locomotion.
The last psychological phenomenon that I remember being helpful was the idea that I could decide how I would react to adversity. This was particularly helpful as night fell and my existence was limited to the bubble of light emanating from my headlamp. As I approached mile 60, 65, and 75, all in the dark, it might have been easy to become discouraged. Such a long way to go. I can’t really see too far ahead of me. Instead, it was a deliberate choice to banter with my pacer, tell jokes, try to get each other to laugh, lean into any moment of positive momentum, and minimize the instances where I had a thought about how far it was to go. Again, it is easy to see how this idea is widely applicable.
Ultimately, I finished my first 100-mile ultra-marathon in the top third of the field. Not bad for a rookie. But it wasn’t so much about the placing or the finish time or the cool belt buckle. Instead, it was a feeling of re-edified self-efficacy that went all the way back to the beginning of the summer with the first training runs and all of the mental and physical preparation, capped by a 100-mile commencement.
The Stoic philosopher Seneca wrote, “I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent— no one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you.” Perhaps this is the innate call many of us heed – the call to find adversity that we may grow. We can encounter resistance to prove and strengthen ourselves, even if no one else notices or cares. There is something essential to meeting difficulty where it finds us or where we find it and see what we discover there.
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Mark Wilkes, Executive Contributor Brainz Magazine
Mark Wilkes is a therapist and writer obsessed with space where cognitive and physical performance intersect. In clinical practice, Mark works with athletes, musicians, and business professionals to overcome the psychological impediments stopping them from reaching their potential. Outside of clinical work, Mark can be found in the mountains near his home in the Salt Lake City, UT area, trail running, mountain biking, or backcountry skiing.
Reference:
Pierluigi, D. et al., 2020 DOI=10.3389 https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2020.558287
