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Mind Exercise Counts What mental stimulation do you use while running? What mind games
do you play? What makes a workout count for you mentally as well as physically? Every Sunday at Anna Maria Island, the Bradenton Runners do a 10.8 mile
workout. Starting at the pavilion at Homes Beach, we wind around the roads of the island past quaint cottages and fish restaurants, under the cheeps of the green parrots laughing at us from the palms. Most of the run is very
scenic, along the bay. Fresh breezes and views rejuvenate us as we run. Usually there are between six and thirty people. We chat as a large group as we
start off through lanes between shops and houses. We divide into smaller clusters at the laundromat 2.8 miles into the run. Some turn back. Some continue at high speed. Some continue at a jog. I’m in the slower group. After a drink at the fountain in back of the laundromat, I habitually emerge to
see the glistening backs of the fast runners disappearing around a corner a short distance up the road. If I’m alone, it’s at this point I start my mental exercise games. The
chatter of companion runners has disappeared. The warmth of the day has increased. I know I have the distance of the workout ahead of me. My warm-up/tune-up of muscles is over. I have no more excuses. Now I need to Just Do It. That red Nike bumper sticker is on the rear fender of my car…Just Do It. I don’t know if it’s motivational or guilt-imposing, but I find its red
message burning into my brain. JUST DO IT. Does it give a lift to my spirits? Hmmm. It does keep me
going…one foot in front of the other. My mental games can take me down several paths: philosophic, scenic “long” thinking, fast sprint thinking, mature paced thinking. I can follow the Just Do It path and run a long workout merely to say I completed the mileage. I can run at a twelve-minute pace and call it a
scenic cruise. Does it still “count” in my guilt-ridden runner’s mind? If I were a truly philosophic person it would
count as an athletic workout. But my criteria for aerobic exercise dictate that I run a certain pace for the mileage to count as a fitness activity. Otherwise it’s merely moving through space as any pedestrian would. The Just Do
It workout is a pedestrian one. However it does count as “long” thinking. “Long” thinking takes place during long mileage workouts during which I let my mind ruminate, dream, meditate. My mind can take me on a scenic
cruise, again, a sedate thinking pace. This time perhaps more uplifting than the Just Do It attitude, I’m grateful to be able to run at all, to be able to see and appreciate the loveliness around me: tweed green waves, bright
round parrots, exotic fan-shaped palms, red hibiscus…a flat road. Yes, the pace is slow but I use my mind to float, thank the Higher Power for the strength and ability to run. Trying to stop comparing myself to
others, I focus on searching for the meaning of the workout in my own mind. At the beginning of a yoga class we dedicate our practice to a quality we want to see more fully expressed in our lives: peace, joy, harmony. In
my mental workout, I turn my thought to a quality I want to concentrate on for the run: grace, endurance, strength. My meditative training runs are slow. Their purpose is more mental than physical. I allow my mind to release the stress and pressures of the day. My focus turns
inward. Thoughts float to a place of serenity. Running is incidental to this process. Running slowly allows this “long” thinking to occur. It’s the distance thought that counts…not
the distance run. Another mental path is that which running is primary and thinking supportive. Those are the fast-paced workouts. I decide on a pace and go through various mind
games to maintain or increase the pace, keep track of my breathing, relaxation level, smoothness of stride, coordination. I focus on an object to “catch”. For the Anna Maria Island run it is a big blue trash can at the end of a mile straightaway. The bin is
immobile, but seems to move farther away from me as I race toward it. It’s at mile 10 of the 10.8 mile workout, a place where I’m bored and flagging, a place where I want the workout to be finished, where I want to click my
watch off, breathe a sigh of relief and give my self a mental “atta girl” for having done fast and furious training. I really have to focus on that blazing blue trash bin. It sits obnoxiously amidst some dune grasses oh so far down the straight hot road. I pretend to be angry at it—that gets my adrenaline going. I pretend it’s closer than it is. I tell myself I can quit once I’m even with its
lid. I race palm trees and a church as I pound down the long line. I think about shortening my gait and speeding up my feet. Will pumping my arms make me feel stronger, go faster? Why is that blue wastebasket winning the race? It’s an inanimate object for gosh sake! Pound, pound. Pump, pump. My feet feel like cement blocks, no cushion from my shock-absorber knees after ten miles of running. This is the time when a mental path is worth travelling. I can either go to my fatigue/disgust thought path or my spiritual fortitude thought
path. If I’m smart I’ll choose the latter. Float, you’re light as air. The wind is behind you. It will push you to the finish, give you a boost. Your legs are wheels. They don’t tire.
They oil themselves into smooth movement with each step. They rest in perpetual motion. Your heels get a massage each time they hit the ground. Your spring off each step like a pogo stick, yet you move froward horizontally, not
vertically, covering great distance with each stride. These are the thoughts that propel me onward to the last eight-tenths of the Anna Maria Island workout. I “catch” the blue bin and round a
final corner. The stop sign at the beach pavilion is the signal for me to punch the “stop” button on my watch. If I’ve played the right mental games during my run, I’ll feel fortified and accomplished. If I’ve let the guilt, “not-good-enough”
syndrome take over, I’ll sulk while stretching in the parking lot, thinking I didn’t go fast enough, hard enough, strong enough. But be comforted, my inner voice says. Just getting out on the road is good enough. Just thinking “long” thoughts is beneficial. Just doing it counts.
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