It’s better than a mass e-mail

I’ve never really been one for mantras. They just seemed cheesey and unnecessary, and I could never really picture myself chanting a few sentences over and over again for some desired outcome. Mantras seem to me like one of those things my former hippie roommate had. That, and natural peanut butter and Tom’s deodorant – all of which I rejected outright.

Good thing I’ve come around. Not only have I embraced natural peanut butter and aluminum-free deodorant (on most days, but not in the summer – that calls for the Toxic Big Dogs), but I am also warming to mantras. Yes, my roommate was ahead of her time.

Another friend of mine had a mantra as she was preparing for a natural homebirth. Hers was spectacularly personal and moving. It made me realize mantras don’t have to be cliched (like that one about how I won’t try to change the things I can’t or something.) I like to think her mantra helped her build the strength she needed to bring a healthy child into a world of support and peace.

My need for a mantra is far more pedestrian. But as I have been training for the marathon, I’ve had a few phrases swirling around in my head. One of them I ripped from an audiobook I just listened to, Born to Run. (Awesome book, by the way. Inspiring and humbling for someone who often sees running as a slog she’s become addicted to.) This particular mantra came from a townspeople who lived high in the mountains in a rough-and-tumble, take-no-prisoners mining town:

You are tougher than you think you are, and you can accomplish more than you think you can.

It stuck with me. Another concept I originally rejected and now have come to understand (alongside toiletries that don’t poison you slowly) is that running is very mental. Let’s be honest, if I tried to run a full marathon six months ago, or even tomorrow for that matter, I could quite possibly die. Or perhaps start hobbling at mile five until the race officials kindly asked me  to step off the course, as it is now getting dark. But since I have been training, I find myself working harder to overcome my mental blocks than nursing blisters or sore muscles. It’s a constant exercise in mental endurance, in confidence building, in just pulling the wool over my eyes long enough to convince myself that I can get through this run.

Enter the mantra. During runs when I just don’t think I will make it, or I have a long list of excuses for shortening it or walking, the mantra reminds me that I can in fact do it. I am tougher than I give myself credit for. I, in fact, can run farther than I thought, so why not just shut it and run.

Last year, as I was training for my first half marathon, every long weekend run was brand new information. Every time I ran a mile, I was able to say to myself (and any poor soul willing to listen), “Five miles is the longest I’ve ever run!” What a spectacular feeling. And this year, it’s happening all over again, this time with my speed on some runs, the hills I take on, and gradually the number of miles I am racking up each run. The brand new information part is also happening with the mental bit, the confidence I am building in myself, the strength, the motivation, and the determination to not only train for the longest run of my life, but to also find joy and comfort in it

It’s mental. Each week, I have to build myself up to be ready for the long run. And if I have a shitty run (tried 15 miles with a post-30th-birthday gin and tonic hangover), I have to remind myself that I chose this. This is fun for me. I am in charge here. And if a run doesn’t go well, it’s OK. There’s always tomorrow or next Saturday. No one is judging me or thinking I’ve failed. (This may seem a simple concept, but it’s all new for a  Type A personality plagued with insecurities.)

So I have embraced mantras. I’ve bought into the notion that running is mental. Shit, I even eat natural peanut butter. What’s next?