I want to start this article with a standard, paternalistic disclaimer: there are certain aches and pains that you should not “run through”. Only your doctor/physical therapist can really tell you what those are. Often though, the more you run, the more in-tune you become with your body and the more you learn (usually the hard way after being side-lined with an injury or 12) what pains need medical attention and what pains ease up on their own. That said, assume you are out running and a standard niggling pain pops up. It could be a sore hammie, a tense lower calf, a weird foot twinge. You’ve got a long run to get in. This was supposed to be a glorious day. You are in pain and wildly inconvenienced.
This happened to me a few months ago, and when this occurs, I usually settle into a low-grade panic. I start to obsess over how uncomfortable I am, how many minutes have gone by (too few), how many miles I still have left to go (too many), then I speed up to try to get the agony over with, only to become more frustrated, impatient, and then I eventually bonk. This is not sustainable, nor effective, and mentally, it’s rather taxing to try to pull yourself out of this gutter once you crash- land there. So, out of sheer desperation and desire to avoid said gutter, I tried a different approach. I talked to my tight left hip like a dear old friend.
Literally. This is the conversation I had with my hip as I ran:
Oh, hey there, pain. It’s nice to see you. It’s been a while! Come in, grab a seat. Prop your feet up. You look pissed. Can I get you anything? Do you wanna talk about it? It’s ok that you are here. You can stay as long as you need to.
(By the way, running can force you into these moments sometimes where you don’t know if you are actually cultivating some really positive self-talk strategies or losing your freaking mind. I hope I’m not alone in finding that the line gets more and more blurred the farther you run.)
I continued to be mindful of this pain that radiated up my outer hip into my lower back, instead of trying to outrun it (RUN FASTER!) or check out (BLAST MUSIC AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT FOR LUNCH!) or quit (CALL AN UBER!). I let myself FEEL IT and I really clung to that last part: It’s ok that you are here. You can stay as long as you need to.
I wish I could say that I INSTANTLY felt better, but I didn’t. I had to have this one-sided discussion over and over with my hip pain for about three more miles until it finally stood up, thanked me for my hospitality, gave me a gruff bear hug (the kind where you also get slapped on the back at the same time), and left me to settle into what turned out to be an incredible 12 mile run.
In mindfulness courses all over the world, the Sufi poet, Rumi, is oft-cited. He likens the state of being human to a “guest house” and implores us to welcome all visiting emotions, even a “crowd of sorrows” as esteemed guests because each one has something to teach us. I think the same can be said of our sometimes banged up runner bodies and those nagging aches and pains.
Let the pain in, speak to it kindly, and then hopefully watch it go.
