Running Like a Swimmer

The other day, I was talking with a coworker that I've been informally coaching for over a year as he's transformed himself into a pretty good runner. Vincent reminded me of something that I told him a while back that I didn't even remember saying - "Just go for it. What's the worst that can happen?" He told me that on a 20 mile run last weekend, as he picked up the pace, he thought to himself, "the worst thing that will happen is that my wife will have to come and pick me up." As a result, he ran faster than he's ever run before, because he got rid of fear.

I've posted quite a few times about putting fear aside and going for it. But having a goal of a BQ at the Houston marathon in a few weeks brings up a whole new level of scary, turbulent fear. What if I fail? What if I hurt myself? ...what if I give up?

There's such an enormous contrast between how I feel as a runner and how I feel as a swimmer. I will confidently tell you, "I am a swimmer." Between swimming, biking, and running, I'm definitely best at swimming. Because it's what I'm good at, it's what I love - I mean LOVE. Love it so much that I'll ask my coach for a 100x100 swim for my birthday. Love it so much that I will fearlessly set big goals for a timed event. Love it so much that when I see a difficult set on my workout plan, my thought is "cool! Let me see if I can do this," not (as I do when I see a similar running workout), "crap, I hope I don't fail."

The confidence and joy that I feel in swimming allows me to push through one difficult workout after the next, which, of course, builds strength and makes me faster, which provides more confidence and joy. Clearly, this is a pattern. So how to translate it to running? How do I run with confidence, when in the back of my mind, I'm always saying, "what if I fail?"

This morning, I happily swam to a new PR for the hour swim at Monica's Mile - 3800 yards, which is 200 more than last year. I felt physically sick for the rest of the day because of the effort I put into the swim. But I still had a 2.5 hour run to do, with goal paces that I was supposed to reach. Ugggggg.

I put off the run until I realized that I'd run (haha) out of daylight to do it. Then I headed out on an out-and-back route in which I was supposed to start out slowish and then hold a 9 minute mile pace or better for the last hour and a half...on a false flat, into a huge headwind. 

I went out too fast. My first few miles were at an 8:45ish pace. I thought about my own advice that Vincent had repeated back to me. What's the worst that can happen? (Well, I could end up an hour and 15 minutes away from my car, walking, and it could get dark, and I could get murdered. But we won't think about that.) I made an effort to just go for it and see what happened. I forced myself to be confident. I embraced the challenge and chose to run like I swim. I bet you can guess what happened next (or I wouldn't be blogging about it - ha)...I held the pace I started with. I even ran a negative split on the way back! Talk about a confidence builder.

What's the worst that can happen? My answer: you can finish this race knowing you didn't try your best. Whatever happens in Houston, I vow to run with confidence, even if I have to remind myself every mile to run like I'm swimming. I might even start to tell you confidently, "I am a runner." And I'll re-read this post a thousand times in the next couple of weeks to remind myself.

Super happy fun times at my 100x100 birthday swim - thanks to the lovely ladies, Dawn, Michelle, and Linda for joining me on Christmas Day to swim!

Some of the Tri-Belief crew (although no matchy suits this year) - Trent, Orissa, Linda, me, and Shelly at Monica's Mile, year 3! An awesome event, as always. A thousand thank yous to Bree Soileau for timing me today!

Dawn's version of "don't be afraid." This has been on my desk at work since 2011 when, during marathon training, Shelly and I asked "what's the worst that could happen?" for the first time.