What the average runner is missing
3 things great runners have that you don't
"Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."
— Viktor Frankl
I run a lot and I’m still aggressively average. If this is you, let me tell you why and how you can avoid staying there much longer.
But Dante, why should I listen to an average runner claiming he can make me great?
Would you rather take advice from the guy who fought a slice for 25 years and finally fixed it, or the scratch golfer who never had to?
The scratch golfer. Same. Please keep reading lol.
I’ve witnessed many a running journey. I’ve seen people run marathons and never run again. I’ve seen people become elite runners in months. I’ve seen first hand what works and what doesn’t. I know what makes the great runners great, and I understand completely why I’m stuck being average.
This letter is not only a letter to myself, but to younger me, who would’ve benefitted from hearing these things, so as to not wind up where he is now.
Back when I started running, and for roughly an entire year, my only goal was to, well, run. I probably ran in lifestyle New Balances. I have no clue how far or how fast I went. I didn’t track distances, speed, or heart rate.
I ran to that tree and back. I came home tired, I came home healthy. I ran hard when I felt like running hard and I took it easy when I felt like I needed to. I never got hurt, I never felt guilty, I was just running. I was probably making great progress.
This, was running by feel. Now, it’s all about numbers, stats, pace. It’s about outfits, social posts, and making friends. When running drifts from a thing you do to a social anchor, things can start to go south.
We ego run, push it when we shouldn’t, stretch high mileage for the sake of it. We buy cool shoes because they look good, not because they feel good. We let others, algorithms, and apps tell us what we should be doing. We get fomo, run too hard, and end up on the bench. We’ve lost that childish intuition and natural intention because of the great running boom. If we want to be great, we need to start running for ourselves.
In my opinion, there are three things great runners have that make them great. Yes genetics matter, yes body composition matters, but I have those things, and I can’t progress for shit. Three things beyond a good diet, solid speed workouts, and natural born talent:
Intuition, intention, and durability.
Intuition is what younger me had by accident: the ability to listen to my body. Intention is what younger me never had: a plan built around what intuition was telling him. And durability: the floor that makes everything else possible.
As I sit here writing this, I’m realizing I’ve lost all three.
Let’s dive in.
Intuition
In war, information is the most powerful weapon. Not nukes. Not machine guns. Not rockets. Information.
In running, the same is true. Your greatest weapon is not zone 2 training, or intervals, or ice baths. It’s your intuition. The little information factory in your brain. It’s what your body is telling you, all day, every day, before, during, and after a run.
We all have it. The problem, is that we fucking suck at listening to it.
You slept for 3 hours and then tried to PR the 5K. Your calves were absolutely cooked, you didn’t foam roll, and now your achilles feels like it might explode. You didn’t hear the little rascal telling you that you were completely dehydrated and should stop for a drink. You didn’t admit to yourself that you had 7 beers too many and should’ve chilled on the long run.
You need to become chief noticer. And then you need to actually listen.
Great runners, are great listeners. But they didn’t become so overnight. They had to learn how to give their subconscious the floor like anyone else.
Sure, to outsiders, it doesn’t really look like they’re doing anything at all. But at one point, they were. Through time, they’ve built a second brain that manages all of this without having to think about it consciously. It’s second nature. They just know. Know when to push, when to pull back, when to cut a mile or two, and when to throw in some strides.
For normies like us, we have to manufacture it. Consciously. Consistently. And one day, hopefully, it’ll be automatic.
If you stay stuck in a loop of running influencers and elite friends telling you what to do, when to do it, and how, you’re going to wind up injured, hating the sport, burning out, or resenting your friend.
The intuition is there, I promise, we just ignore it for the sake of our local legend status. Give the little fella some room to breathe!
If you’re going to listen to anyone intentionally, might as well let it be yourself.
Now, what to do with it?
Intention
In looking at my Strava, it says I’ve been on 566 runs. What’s funny is that if I had to guess, less than 50 of these really mattered. 50 of these, done with intention and real consistent effort, have driven 99% of all the progress I’ve made as a runner. The hard short runs, and the long slow runs, most likely.
And on maybe 3 of those 50, I got hurt. Shin splint in my left leg. Right hip. Left achilles. (No intuition. Ran hard anyway because I was supposed to, according to Strava, Aura posts, socials, ego, etc.)
And the other 516? I have absolutely no idea. I guess that’s what happens when you replace intuition with metrics, and metrics with absolutely nothing. Big swings. Big setbacks. Long plateau.
I’ve got the bones of a sub 3 hour marathon (my goal) right in front of me, the heart to make it happen, and absolutely no capability to go for it. I am consistently injured, unable to stack hard sessions, and trapped running in zone 1. My body is weak.
That’s what 516 runs with no plan looks like. At least now I know.
Intuition tells you what’s happening. Intention is what you do about it.
So, as much as younger me really enjoyed running to run, if I really want to improve it’s simply not enough. I need a plan that knows me and where I need work.
Take for example the most popular advice in the sport. The “run slow to get fast” propaganda.
In a vacuum, it’s good advice. Call it zone 2, build your base, consistent steady mileage, whatever. I followed it relentlessly. Yes, I got more efficient. Yes, I could go further. But no, I really didn’t get faster.
It wasn’t until I started speed work, intervals, VO2 max type sessions that I finally made the progress I wanted.
But what I didn’t know, was that speed work would be my achilles heel (literally).
All my favorite running influencers, YouTube videos, books, and shorts were subscribing this session and that session. I was listening and they were working! I was getting faster, I was motivated, and I was having fun. But these plans have no idea who I am. They have no idea that I’ve got fragile lower legs. Weak calves and weak feet.
So, while, I could run slow and steady and far forever with no issues, the second I added speed consistently, I broke. And this keeps happening. Three times now. Each time I have to dig myself out in the gym, heal my shit up, then overbuild the area so it doesn’t happen again. And every time it’s the same loop. I see progress. I get excited. I overdo it. I feel something bad creeping in. (In hindsight… Always in hindsight). I ignore it because I’m excited. I get hurt.
I see the progress, I just can’t make it stick.
So I revert back to zone 1. Hold my base, and watch all the progress I just made drain back out. Then start over.
So, while the run slow idea is great, for me, it’s just not the bottleneck. And if I’m always looking to others to tell me what I need to work on, I’ll keep missing that.
I knew my body couldn’t handle speed work. I cannot run fast at high volume. I knew it after the first time. I just never built a plan around knowing it. If I’d designed the whole thing around the one thing that shits in my cornflakes every morning, I’d have hit my goal a year ago. Such is the ego and the greed of wanting to be great now.
That’s intuition. That’s intention. It’s listening to your body enough to know where you stand before a run, and after, and having a good plan for what you’ll do when you feel off. It’s not about following some general plan from Runna.
A plan built without intuition is a plan that gets you hurt. A signal without a plan is a feeling you ignore.
You need both!
Durability
If I could give younger me one piece of running advice, it would be this: If you want to be great, you actually need to be able to run. Consistently.
Staying healthy is priority number one. It should be non-negotiable. Not mileage, not volume, not specific shoes, not being lean, not improving your VO2 max. Staying healthy. Without question.
Easy to ignore.
Like I said, I’ve been doing this a while. Something I’ve noticed is that the people who end up with the best results or the fastest progress, are also the ones with the best durability. They don’t get hurt. They stay in the game.
I have friends I’ve watched push high mileage and multiple speed workouts a week, leaving me wondering how they’re recovering so fast. How they aren’t hurt. I’ve also seen friends hit 20 miles a week and crater.
Everyone talks about how running slow is the best way to progress, or how intervals are what make you fast.
Both true. But not the foundation.
What makes these training modalities possible (and efficacious), is actually being able to go out there pound pavement week over week (with adequate recovery).
You cannot, and will not, make progress if you cannot run. Durability is what grants you that opportunity.
Running rewards consistency, not just intensity. You have to nail hard sessions over and over to see any progress at all. You can’t burn the match one week, be hurt the next, power through a shit one, then take a week off. You have to show up and nail the session. And then nail it 12 more times in a row. And if that means dropping a rep, or taking a few seconds per mile off so you can show up again tomorrow, it’s worth it.
You need to be proactive, not reactive. Rehab. Strength train. Stretch. Mobility. Sauna. Ice bath. If you want to be great, you need to stay in the game. This should be the foundation of any running program, and it is essential, perhaps most important part of all, that this is the starting point.
(Let me know if you want an essay on what I do outside of running to be good at running!)
This is what I wish I heard when I started running. In fact, I think it’s step one to being successful in the sport.
Because being great isn’t being great unless you stay great.
Patience, Padawan. You’ll get there.
Enjoy it
At the end of the day, this sport is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be something you enjoy. It’s an individual sport for a reason. You’re competing against yourself, and the very nature of the world has disrupted that. You’re now competing against everyone, every day, because of apps and influencers and everything telling you what you should be doing.
What you should do, is run for yourself. Listen to your body. Design a program that works for you, that lets you move forward (even if more slowly than you’d like) in a way that lets you stay healthy. In a way that lets you be consistent. If you really love running, I’m sure you’d much rather run slow than not run at all.
You’ll get there. But you need to take your time. Enjoy the ride. What are you in such a hurry for? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.
I promise, the anxiety you feel from not achieving your goal is nowhere near as bad as not being able to run at all because you ego ran when you were injury prone. Trust me. I’ve done it too many times to count. I can only hope that after writing this essay, I will have learned my lesson. Who knows!
Good luck out there. Don’t quit. Rooting for you.
Dante
Things I’ve been thinking about lately:
Oral health
Embracing boredom as a creative process
Taking what I’ve been given and not wanting more