There\u2019s a point in some races where, especially if you\u2019re on the edge of a goal time or you\u2019re in a barn-burner for the podium, the world disappears into a fog. You lose track of everything except the finish line. You\u2019re aware of the pain that you\u2019re putting your body through and the fact that you can\u2019t run any faster, and yet the push for the line partly transcends that. When you cross the line, it can take a few moments for everything to return to normal, regardless of the outcome. You\u2019ve put your mind and body through a small ordeal and they can be flooded with adrenaline and endorphins, and a snap-switch back to clarity and perspective isn\u2019t in the cards.
When you\u2019re training, there\u2019s another kind of trance. If you\u2019re on a distance run and you\u2019re close to a goal time, the last couple of miles can turn into a mind-numbing push. Besides the strain of the run, all I can feel is this strange time-delayed slap of my hair against my scalp and I can almost see the beads of sweat flying off from it and colliding and evaporating in a suspended-in-time mist, despite the fact it\u2019s occurring well outside of my peripheral vision. It\u2019s an ugly feeling, one where I\u2019m not sure whether I\u2019ll hit my time, but wanting to keep pushing. Similar to an end-of-race trance, once I\u2019m done it can take a little bit of time to revert to normal.
I\u2019ve found that running in our current social distancing brings on a different kind of trance. Normally when I\u2019m rolling off the miles I\u2019m focused on running the tangents, keeping track of my time, both total and splits. I\u2019m doing the math on all of this and breaking it into various segments to project my time. Is the rest of the course flat or hilly? Am I feeling strong and thus able to reasonably repeat these splits? What is my stretch goal? What will I likely get time-wise?
These days, I find that my focus is entirely on what\u2019s going on around me. I\u2019m vaguely aware of my watch and the total distance but I\u2019m also scanning ahead of and around me. Instead of hugging curves or switching sides of the road in a line-of-sight to run the fastest course possible, everything is about enjoying the freedom of being outside while also being aware of people around me and keeping proper distances. In a way, I\u2019m really not focused on the distance or my time. I\u2019m aware of when I need to make turns so that I stay on my planned course but keeping track of it in terms of speed is outside of my main considerations. I\u2019m in a zone.
A running friend of mine has been exclusively on the treadmill since mid-March and we\u2019ve talked about running outside. His primary question isn\u2019t whether to run outside, but how much practicing social distancing affects the enjoyment of the run. It does, to an extent. And yet, in spite of being in a trance that doesn\u2019t allow for the parts of training that I enthusiastically embrace, it works in its own strange way. It\u2019s not a trance I had expected, and definitely not one that I was able to compare to other runners\u2019 mindsets in similar situations since this is a new one for us. But, it\u2019s definitely a running trance, and unique among my experiences. Unlike the first two I mentioned above, it\u2019s not hard to make the switch when I\u2019m done. Clarity and perspective are back quickly.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There\u2019s a point in some races where, especially if you\u2019re on the edge of a goal time or you\u2019re in a barn-burner for the podium, the world disappears into a fog. You lose track of everything except the finish line. You\u2019re aware of the pain that you\u2019re putting your body through and the fact that … <\/p>\n