Choosing not to give 100% during a race or event is not a sign of weakness.
Let me just say up front that I get very competitive when I am racing. I have been known to obsess over past race results and course topography, and to use in-depth spreadsheets when making a race plan. However, I have come to believe that you shouldn’t always give 100% in every race. That said, I want to make it clear that that doesn’t necessarily mean going easy. It means racing hard, but not doing your absolute utmost empty-the-tank-to-the-last-drop physical best. Choosing NOT to give everything doesn’t mean that you’re not a serious competitor. In fact, it could be an indicator of maturity.
Two Different Races
Several years ago, I trained for and raced two 10-mile races within a couple of weeks of each other. I originally intended the first one to be a dress rehearsal for a PR at the second. Then I learned something that completely changed my goal. You see, my husband had raced this particular race once in the past. When I found out his finish time, I realized that it was a plausible goal time for me.
In all fairness to him, he had no idea when he ran that race that a wife he hadn’t met yet would be “racing” him in the future. He is competitive too and surely would have been relentless in (and likely would have been successful in) racing for the win, while just getting close to his time would still be an all-time PR for me. Even if achieving the same time was a valid possibility, it would still require serious effort from me, and everything would have to line up just right on race day as well.
Going for the “Win”
Much to my satisfaction, everything DID seem to be lining up just right on the day of the race. I hit all of the right paces during my warmup, and all of my other preparations were on point. When the race started, I tried to keep my pace easy, but soon realized that I had covered the first mile at a much faster pace than planned. Since the first mile felt so good, I made the snap decision to try to hold that pace. This would mean that I would not just meet my goal, but I would surpass it!
This was a crucial mistake. Just before mile 2, my IT band tightened up, putting my knee in severe pain. The pain was so bad that I considered dropping out of the race. There were still so many miles left, and I wondered if continuing on that long would increase the pain and cause serious injury. I didn’t want to quit unless absolutely necessary, though, so I tried slowing my pace to a light jog to see if I could just keep moving forward. Thankfully, the pain eased after a while and I was able to run again. However, a lot of minutes had passed and I knew that my goal might be out of reach.
Finishing the Race
After running for a little while, I looked at my watch to check my time. I did a mental calculation and realized with surprise that the PR time was still achievable – but only if I continued to accelerate from then on (and only if the knee pain didn’t return). Watching my watch timer all the way, I pressed on and pushed harder and harder, muscles and lungs burning. I crossed the finish line just scant seconds faster than my husband’s race result. I’d done it!
There was a price to redlining it, though. After I crossed the finish line, I kept moving and tried to cool down, but seconds after reuniting with my family, something awful happened. Out of nowhere, my whole body seized up like concrete in a tight cramp of pain that no amount of stretching seemed to ease, and my mind felt like a dark hole with nothing inside.
The Aftermath
My husband continued to supervise our active kids while I tried to bring myself back to normal. I was in such bad shape that I was not able to say much more than brief thanks to some extended family members who had come to watch. I felt that I was being rude to them, since they had made time to come and watch me race. Also, I felt like I was being unfair to my other half – who now not only had an extended solo “kid duty” session but now had to worry about my health also.
My immediate and extended family discussed the idea of extending our time together by going to brunch. I was enthusiastic about this; I anticipated being recovered (and therefore better company) by the time we got there. During the ride to the restaurant, I took measures to recover, but I was still stumbling around in a daze and in pain when we walked in.
The restaurant was well-known for their sumptuous weekend buffet brunch, and everything smelled and looked wonderful, but I couldn’t eat any of it. During the meal, my husband and family members talked and laughed. They all took care of the “mom things” that I would otherwise have done for the kids. All the while, I sat staring at the few bland food items that I thought that I might be able to eat. It’s rare that I can’t eat anything, so I definitely remember the feeling of staring at that plate. I wasn’t able to form many thoughts during that outing, but I do remember wondering if my “victory” was worth the aftermath cost.
A Different Race Experience
A few weeks later, I raced the second 10 mile race. It was a familiar course that I had raced previously, but I knew that it was a hilly course, and not to be underestimated. Still, I had my race goals, and they were aggressive. The difference, though, was that I had another goal this time in addition to a specific finish time: I wanted to race hard AND be able to recover quickly. I wanted to “be mom again” quickly and “be present” with my family soon after finishing.
I definitely pushed hard in the race. As the miles ticked by, I watched my watch and executed my plan. I remember rounding the final turn and heading uphill in the final stretch. Event though I couldn’t feel my feet, I pressed faster increasing my run to a sprint. After crossing the finish line, I collapsed into my husband’s hug. I needed some recovery time, but it wasn’t long before I was back to myself. I was indeed able to be “fully present” as a mom with my family.
Overall, the race was a completely different experience than the previous one, and so much better. Here’s the amazing thing: I was only two minutes slower in the second race than the first race. Two minutes over ten miles breaks down to 12 seconds per mile slower for each mile; that’s not much. In a race that takes the the majority of runners well over an hour, two minutes is not much. Two minutes – and it changed the whole rest of my day.
The Real Question
Not long after the second race, I told a co-worker (also a runner) about my race experiences. My co-worker argued that one should always give 100% in a race, and hearing my story didn’t change their mind. I can understand why someone would have that opinion, even though I no longer agree. Based on my experience, I now approach races very differently. The question is no longer just “what is my goal time, if I go as fast as I am capable of going?” Now, the question is “what is my goal time, based on the big picture?”
The Big Picture
The big picture includes all of the elements of the first question, plus some additional factors:
- How is my training going? What speeds am I capable of hitting on my best days?
- What are my family responsibilities? How can I make smoother for my spouse and kids?
- What do I need to plan for in terms of recovery? How much time do I need, what tools do I need to help myself recover more quickly?
- How can I make sure that I am present for and show gratitude to my “fans” (family and friends that have come to watch me)?
- What is my priority? Is it giving everything to hit a PR even if it means feeling destroyed for the rest of the day (and then planning appropriately)? Is it instead: holding back a bit to have a quicker and easier recovery so that I can parent and socialize soon afterward?
Successful racing means considering the whole day, not just the time spent between the start and the finish. (Take it from someone who had to learn the hard way!) Taking the time to think through and answer these questions – and then factor them into your race plan – will go a long way towards an overall better race experience, both for you and those close to you.