Reflections on Reflecting
by GRP runner Britta Clark
As we enter 2023, you’ll likely find your social media feeds filled with talk of the year ahead, articles on successful goal setting and making resolutions. No doubt, setting intentions for the future can be an important part of making positive changes, and goal setting can be a useful tool for runners and other athletes. But before looking forward, I think it is important to first turn our attention to the past.
It’s tempting to want to rush through reflection, to turn immediately from what we wish went better in the previous year to what we want to change in the future. But we risk committing ourselves to the wrong aims when we decide on a forward-looking goal without the insight of backward-looking reflection. I want to share a few short thoughts about practicing this backward-looking self-reflection when it comes to running or other athletic pursuits.
It is common for those writing on focused reflection, as well as goal setting, to distinguish between process and outcome. On the process side are all the things that we did, or failed to do, to achieve some outcome: workout splits, nutrition habits, strength routines, training plans, hours of sleep, resting heart rate, and other metrics. On the outcome side, we usually have race, FKT, or time trial results.
But I think that this dichotomy leaves out an important piece of the puzzle: our internal lives. I prefer to think in terms of actions and feelings. On the one hand, we can reflect on what we did in the past year: how much did I run and how fast, did I do strength, did I sleep enough, eat enough, and rest enough? On the other hand, we can reflect on how the past year felt: did I enjoy running? Did I feel strong in races? Did running make me feel accomplished, or was I focused on my shortcomings and failures? Did running give me anxiety or joy or something else? Did I feel connected to my running community? Did performing well make me proud?
Reflecting on both these components can yield insights that the process/outcome dichotomy might miss. For me, there was a period where many objective metrics - what I did - was dialed, but nevertheless I did not feel strong or fast, and was enjoying running less than normal. This was the period leading up to CCC, a 100km race in the Alps that had been a goal of mine for a long time. The process was pretty much there: I was training hard and sleeping and eating lots. And the outcome wasn’t all that bad either: I was competitive with athletes whose sole profession is to run. What was amiss? Part of it was that during the summer of lead up to CCC, I felt that running was taking too outsized a role in my life. I felt guilty abandoning group bike rides or family commitments or trips with friends to make sure I got a long run in. More importantly, earlier in the year my father passed away, and no doubt the emotional toll of that loss was still lingering.
Notice that this little bit of reflection has little to do with results or training habits. And we need not even try to draw the connection. It can be important in and of itself to observe that something was off emotionally; we need not try to translate how those feelings manifested into poor results to justify their importance. It is often said that ‘a happy runner is a fast runner.’ But this sentiment borders on the advice to “be happy and you will run fast,” as if the former is a means to the latter. The point is that part of the process of reflecting, I think, should include reflection on how the past year of running felt to you, without aiming to draw a connection between those feelings and objective training/recovery metrics and results.
Now, that’s not to say that we should limit our reflections to how we felt. Another important part of reflecting on the previous year is looking at our actions, or inaction. The data here is more measurable: miles, pace, nutrition, sleep, hydration, and so on. There’s a lot to say about how to reflect on these metrics, so I’ll just say three things about the way I think about it.
First, I think it is possible and important to reflect on these metrics without turning towards how we think they were different, or how we hope they are different in the future.
Second, I think that we should resist only thinking in terms of year-long metrics. Strava and your watch will tell you, at the end of the year, how many miles you spent running, how many hours you spent cross training, how many vertical feet you climbed, and so on. Though these numbers are impressive, I think it’s often more informative to look at smaller sections of time. Pick a race or weekend where you felt the best, and ask about what you did in the 10-20 weeks prior to that race.
Finally, I think it’s important to look at what you didn’t do during that time: was your life particularly stress or alcohol free, did you do fewer additional workouts, or something else? Oftentimes what you left out is just as important as what you left in.
The last point I want to make is this: year-end reflection is hard to do alone. We are liable, I think, to make excuses for ourselves, not give ourselves enough grace, or have blinders on to what we should focus on or what questions we should be asking ourselves. Having a conversation with a coach or a training partner can deepen our self-understanding. My suggestion: plan an easy training run with friends, and commit to spending the run asking each other questions, and follow up questions, about the past year. You’ll end the run with a better understanding of yourself, and your friend.
Happy holidays and happy reflection, all!