I found a connection between running and Buddhism when I was reading about the science behind endurance sports. Apparently the key to endurance is in managing not just how you feel—but in managing the difference between how you feel and what you expected to feel at that point. The lesson here probably applies to all things in life, not just for running.
Humans rarely go beyond their physical limit, because the brain puts a brake on the body way before your physiological capacities hits its limit. It’s your brain’s perception of effort—which is the difference between how you feel and what you expected to feel—that dictates the body and its performance. And by default the brain tries to protect your body—making sure you break only mentally.
The story of Diane Van Deren is telling. She became an ultra-marathon runner after her brain surgery affected both her sense of time and direction. She can’t remember the distance she covered and the time it took. So she can’t suffer from her own expectations—because she doesn’t have any. Her brain doesn’t provide her with the normal perception of effort. Yet that’s precisely what keeps her going. One step at a time—she’s always at present. [1] [2]
Elite runners and cyclists are trying to exploit this brain-body dynamics. What if we can trick both how we feel and our expectation of it—that is, the perception of effort? Can we trick the brain? Top athletes and coaches are working on this. And they are already seeing the expected results.
Although the book is for runners and cyclists, I couldn’t stop thinking about its implications elsewhere. Nobody wants their own expectation to be the limiting factor. If the key to endurance is in minimizing the perception of effort, then the best strategy is to measure less metrics—or not at all.
Runners can do this by only measuring either the time or the distance, but not both at the same time. For example, he can set his timer to 60 minutes and just run for 60 minutes at pace which he feels effortless without checking how many miles he covered. [3] This practice won’t make him an elite runner, but it’s the best strategy if he wants to make running his long-term habit. [4]
Fortunately (or unfortunately) the metrics for life is more multivariant than any endurance sports—your measurement isn’t just about the distance covered and the time it took. It could be how much money you have, how many fans you have, how fit you are, how good you look, how happy you are—it could be anything. You can adopt more and more criteria—with corresponding sufferings. [5]
Measuring less in life means having a priority. As Naval says, it’s way more important to perfect your desires than to try to do something you don’t 100 percent desire.
Yet, the most effective strategy in life is to not measure at all. And that means doing something for its own sake. We can be our versions of Diane Van Deren—because time flies when you’re having fun, and you’ll forget to measure. Have fun, then you won’t suffer fighting consciously against our wanting to measure. You’ll be doubly effortless. [6]
Often less is more—but sometimes none is more than less.
Notes
[1] Haruki Murakami (who’s also a runner): “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
[2] This reminded me of the Stoics and Buddhists. They both teach us to accept the reality as it is—to have no expectation. No expectation, no difference, no suffering. Stoics and Buddhists are resilient, and probably will make good endurance athletes.
[3] Or he can just stop measuring both. He can just run.
[4] Elite runners and cyclists do incorporate low-effort training sessions. Alex Huchinson recommends that every 2 sessions out of 3 should be low-effort.
[5] It’s similar to how anything can be priced in principle, although price (like any measurement) too will never be exhaustive.
[6] The added benefit of not measuring by yourself is that you’re letting others measure you. And you might find some of their measurements surprising. You might figure out what you’re the best at by being open to others’ measurements. And it’s why I try to praise specifically the works of others.
My essays are better formatted (hyperlinked with my relevant notes) here:
kenti
