The Path of Good Intentions
This week, I need to admit something.
I have a pathological dislike to being told what to do.
I know it’s often entirely irrational and most of the time I keep the extent of the pathology under wraps, but every now and again, the mask slips before I know it and have a chance to put it back in place.
Just like it did on a recent trip to the Christmas Lights at Longleat- it was busy and dark and whilst negotiating the chaos of the carpark, with my daughter and granddaughter in the car, an official high vis type person directed the route I should take. I can’t remember the exact words that came out of my mouth in response to the suggested route, but I do recall my daughter’s admonishment that he was only being helpful. In my defence I immediately apologised and now, here I am, admitting officially to all of you this toxic trait of mine, this state of reactance, which is the term used when someone does the opposite of what they’re told to do.
If you’re wondering what on earth this has to do with running, just have a quick look at your social media feed or your current inbox; I’d put money on it being full of “New! Healthy Eating has arrived” or “Do THIS to get a faster marathon time” or “Master your breathing technique for improved performance” – and how do you react? Do you, like me, instantly feel pressured in being told what to do, so you do the opposite and, I don’t know, reach for another bit of cake, or don’t sign up to the gym?
And this is where it all gets a bit complicated, because we all know that goal setting is a tried and tested technique to help people change their behaviour, but I’m beginning to wonder, does it really works?
The process itself is simple on paper- set a goal, implement the behaviour, achieve the goal!
For some of us, setting goals is a great way to form new habits and there’s a bit of reflective motivation, for example you plan to start running because you know there are many positive health benefits. It also enables you to self-regulate, so being able to adopt a goal and manage it, ensuring that your goals are achieved. Sounds perfect!
But what happens if you’re not very good at “reflective motivation” or “self-regulation”? Where does that leave you? (and by that I also mean me, don’t worry). For this group of people, the potential adverse “side effects” if you don’t achieve your goal can be quite harmful.
Should “Goal Setting” advice come with a health warning, similarly to the long list of harmful side effects in your medication packs?
If we really think about it, you might have a long and complicated history of what you see as spectacular failures – diets, exercise regimes, gym attendance, healthy eating, boundaries… So jumping straight into a new year of goal setting could do more harm than good, because if you “fail” to meet the high standards you set yourself, this can lead to a vulnerability where ANY future challenges are avoided at all costs.
I opened one such goal-based motivational email this morning, and it said, and I quote “successful learning or goal pursuit involves errors, failures and frustrations”, but what if I haven’t got the skill set to deal with my errors, failures and frustrations, what happens then?
As a running coach I hold my hands up here, I am absolutely guilty of asking runners what their goals are, and then producing neat, linear training plans with expectations and good intentions firmly set in future horizons. I align perfect columns dictating run 1, 2 and 3, even though as a runner myself I am fully aware that I’ve omitted a very important, specific column where you should input the daily mess of life that can steamroller and destroy your best laid plan.
We need a column where you can add that the dog vomiting under your bed woke you in the middle of night, or the sickness bug that ripped through the household or, my favourite, teenager daughters and their chaos that expertly and inevitably bludgeon your entire day’s plan as you desperately try to get out of the house on a 20 mile run morning. [Side note, there is a positive correlation between my marathon training and when my daughters were teenagers!]
We are not inherently hardwired to fail. Interestingly, there is a region in the brain called the lateral habenula which, essentially, functions as a switchboard for choosing behavioural strategies to manage fear and anxiety. Studies on zebrafish, which have a lateral habenula like humans, reveal that when two fish fight, the one that loses avoids returning to fight the same opponent. This suggests that experiencing failure can discourage them from re-entering situations where they might risk failing again, and, god, I get that! I’m with the zebrafish on this one.
Add into that continued perceived failure a dislike of being told what to do, you can see how hard it is to keep on the path of good intentions for so many of us.
So maybe we should try and reword the ‘New Year, New Me’ narrative and start designing goals for failure instead of this binary plan of either success or failure.
When we start something new or make changes to a current training plan for a new goal, I think we should accept that there will be endless opportunities to fail because we’re stepping out of our comfort zone, there will inevitably be barriers; our path of good intentions will be littered with closed gates. But with a bit of self-compassion and foresight, and hopefully, without sounding too cheesy, we can find a way to open them.