It’s been six months into adopting a new habit — running. On 25 June this year, I wrote an article about habit formation using running as a practical example. Lacing your running shoes, shivering in the morning cold.
I have tried to take up running as a habit many times in the past. Yet I experienced failure after failure. So many attempts were short-lived. Start strong, push hard, have discipline and suffer through pain thresholds. Yet it was a vicious cycle. After particularly intense runs, I might not have returned for the next run. Maybe I kept comparing my running times my younger self. Yes, very fit and could rely on sheer grit rather than wisdom to run fast and strong. So why was this attempt successful?
To be honest, self-compassion and mindfulness were two ingredients helping the cause. I did not look at my emerging habit as a series of steps towards ‘maintenance’ (or habit formation). Instead, I took it easy on myself. I also enjoyed each run for what it was.
So what was a run to me? A chance to shuffle along, enjoying the scenery and breathing in fresh air. Yet there were dimensions to this experience which I will now share with you.
My father-in-law passed away from pulmonary fibrosis this year. Running served to reflect on his life. I could draw upon the fresh air with ease. Feel my belly and chest expand in unison, drawing in crisp and sweet air. This simple act operated in contrast to my father-in-law’s final years. I am grateful for being able to breathe without restriction.
Now in my mid forties, I no longer feel the sense of vitality I once did. Despite changing my diet a little, I have to work at this vital feeling. Along with taking up running again, I worked nearby a juice bar. A vegetable juice became my lunch whenever I worked in my office. At first, this juice did not fill me up. I felt moody afterwards, and a sugary chaser soon followed. At least for a few weeks, until my body got used to fresh juice. Clarity of mind soon followed.
This search for vitality sought solace in morning runs too. I love the saying: “What fires together, wires together.” While this applies to the plasticity of our brains, there is quite a connection between our bodies and minds.
Running in fresh air, through beautiful green spaces would surely impact our brains in a positive way? Research on both running and time in green spaces influences better cognitive function. I don’t wish for a younger body or mind. Instead, I seek to get my sweat on, which influences a better mood and greater mental flexibility.
Self-compassion played a big part in my habit adoption. I put on my headphones and sought out in-ear coaching. My coaching sessions were often short — starting with 20-minute runs. The Nike Running App had a huge amount of coaching sessions.
There was even a dedicated one for your first run, which I loved. I found each coaching session enjoyable; the coach kept reminding me to slow down. Curious, I did indeed slow down — and loved the fact that I achieved 20 minutes of running. To me, it was 20 minutes I could have been on the couch or in bed. Instead, I perspired a little and felt like I achieved a lot.
Unlike previous attempts, I avoided pushing my body to uncomfortable levels. Nor did I bother looking at the time for each run. Some runs were only several minutes long. I was content even with these mini-runs. My threshold for running longer and faster would arrive in good time. I enjoyed the rejuvenation from rest days too. Unhurried runs, congratulating myself after each run, enjoying my recovery — quite a virtuous circle.
I listened to my body, and rested for a day or two if I needed to. After running between 20 and 25 minutes around three times each week, I realised something. I enjoyed these initial ‘newbie runner’ coaching sessions.
The Nike running app had an 8-week 5 kilometre training plan. After several weeks of ‘newbie running’, I decided to give it a go. There were plenty of easy runs to start with. Yet I came across my nemesis — speed and tempo runs. It dawned on me why I kept dropping the running habit. Running way too hard at first was a recipe for distaster. My expectations of my poor body were too much, and how could you enjoy something so punishing?
Even with an aerobic base of several week’s running, I trod carefully (pardon my pun). My mid-forties body needed to handle intensity respectfully. Plenty of rest, and nice and slow recovery runs. Some of the earlier speed runs were too much for me. I barely completed them, but persisted. Longer runs replaced intensity. Each week I got fitter. My legs got stronger. I could see weight disappearing from my face.
Towards the end of the eight weeks, I had a hill run. Five sets of fifteen-second hill sprints, and five sets of forty-five second jogs down the hill again. One Friday I was feeling strong enough to do it. Yet I didn’t feel completely ready for some reason. The training program told me Friday was the day, and so it was. I started well, yet in the final sprint I thought I would finish even stronger. I pushed for the highest speed I could, gritting my teeth and pushing harder. Unlike in my teens and twenties, I discovered my feeble limits. Something went twang in my leg, and off I hobbled to sit down.
My injury lasted for several days, so no running. Yet I didn’t let this take me off course. After good rest, my cardiovascular fitness was still strong. I kept sticking to my training — and thankfully there were no more hill sprint sessions. One surprising day, my final run was upon me. Five kilometres at race pace. My humble time (just under 30 minutes) is no feat in absolute terms. Yet for a mid-forties bloke like me, I feel good. No comparisons to running times achieved in earlier life. Just running for the sake of it, and sticking to it despite setbacks.
I’m now re-doing the Nike five kilometre training plan. It’s easier second time around. Self-compassion is still there, and I don’t bother worrying about my running times. Where there is fresh air, beautiful green space and I have a spare thirty minutes, I’m there. My coach speaks in my ear, and I’m playing either calming jazz or something more upbeat. It doesn’t matter — it’s my time.
I arrive home feeling tired but with more energy. The cobwebs gone — replaced by vitality. This was exactly what I was after in my new habit, and it feels good. My virtuous circle of savouring my runs, celebrating each run afterwards while enjoying rest and being kind to myself.
So how can you create virtuous circles when taking on new habits?
How can you be kinder to yourself, savour the moment and build towards sustainable habits?