September: Head

   A runner's head is a scary place to be, and becoming your own psychologist may be grounds for a malpractice claim. Most of us understand our subtle motivations for running, even if they mask some ulterior intent. Far more elusive are the complex ways we hold ourselves back and cheat ourselves out of performance that's within our capabilities.

   Pain, the body's great communicator, deserves much blame for this. To be sure, pain is real. It telegraphs perceived effort – fatigue in the legs, tightness in the chest, soreness in the muscles, and aching in the feet. It prevents us from doing stupid things, such as trying to sprint a marathon. It's the alarm bell for injury. But in protecting our bodies, pain too often subverts our accomplishments. Worse, memory reinforces it. Your body remember – workout after workout – how much farther you can sustain your current pace at mile two or at mile twenty-two. You know the early warning signs of muscle fatigue. These memories, however useful, represent only half truths.

   Your performance is limited less by actual pain than by how you interpret that pain, Elite runners dissociate. That is, they train their attention away from their impending collapse, refocusing on small, attainable goals that keep them moving. Famed marathoner Paula Radcliffe counts steps. Some runners set mini-goals (make it to the next bend; reassess at the railroad tracks under the shady canopy of maples just ahead). Others pipe tunes through their heads to drown out messages of gloom and doom. Dissociation is difficult because it's counterintuitive: we spend years listening to every hum and thrum of our bodies as we run, picking up every scrap of information we can, and then suddenly the conversation stops. Dissociation can also be dangerous, especially if you fail to heed the signs of heat exhaustion, dehydration, or injury.

   Elite runners, however, recognize that pain thresholds are not fixed. Yes, you can train for pain. Just as you can advance your lactic threshold, you can tolerate more agony over time by including it in your workouts. Intervals are ideal because they're relatively short. A good running buddy will urge you to push your limits just as you will do for her. The perils of overextending your tolerance are obvious, and each of us is unique in how much torture we can take. Exercise physiologists are fascinated by how and why this varies so widely from runner to runner, but as yet no satisfactory answers explain it.

   To raise your threshold for pain, it's crucial that you challenge negative self-talk, that defeatist gibberish in your head. Argue with yourself when you feel you're reaching your limit. Avoid staring at exhausted or injured runners on the sidelines of a race. And when there's no fighting it, don't. Listen to the pain, but try to relax muscles you aren't using – shoulders, facial expressions, lower back. This conspiracy of calm will often chase the demon away.