Before every race, there’s a moment when you find yourself there, thoughts churning like a wild blender and your stomach growling. It’s performance anxiety. You can’t see it, but you definitely feel it.
Performance anxiety has a democratic quality: it doesn’t care about your times, your athletic past, much less the number of medals proudly displayed at home. It just shows up. It’s that feeling of apprehension, of nervousness, and sometimes, outright fear that precedes an event where you know you’re “under examination.” But there’s good news: you can learn to live with it.
Anxiety Isn’t the Enemy, It’s Just a Noisy Guest
Let’s start with a fundamental point: wanting to completely eliminate anxiety is like trying to run against the wind, hoping it stops blowing. It doesn’t work. And honestly, a little anxiety is good. As race car driver Mario Andretti said, “If everything seems under control, you’re not going fast enough,” which is another way of saying that to perform your best, you need a little fear. In these cases, anxiety has a very important function: it keeps you focused; it’s the push that gets you to the starting line in control.
There’s “good anxiety,” the kind that gives you a boost, that makes you perform your best. It’s the one that makes your legs feel a bit tingly, but not heavy, your breathing a bit faster, but not labored. Then there’s the anxiety that paralyzes you, the kind that makes your legs weak and clouds your mind. That’s the enemy.
The point isn’t to eliminate it, but to understand how it works and learn to reduce the kind that paralyzes you, the kind that transforms your warm-up into an internal funeral march.
Preparation Isn’t Just Training
We often think that preparing for a race only means racking up miles. And that’s partly true. But mental preparation is just as fundamental, if not more so. It’s like building a house: it’s not enough to just put bricks together; you need to create solid foundations.
Visualization: Your Mental Dress Rehearsal
Before the race, close your eyes and imagine every single step, every uphill, every downhill. Imagine the effort, but also overcoming it. Imagine the finish line, the feeling of having made it. Do it vividly, with all the details: the sound of your footsteps, the wind on your skin, the sensation of drinking water at the aid station. It’s not just a mental exercise; it’s a true dress rehearsal that your brain records.
Diaphragmatic Breathing: Your Natural Reset
Not the kind that inflates your chest like a turkey. The kind that inflates your belly, like a sleeping child. Inhale slowly through your nose, feel the air go down to your abdomen, and then exhale slowly through your mouth, emptying everything. Repeat this for a few minutes. Doing so activates the parasympathetic nervous system, the “rest and digest” system, which counteracts the effect of adrenaline.
Focus on the Process, Not Just the Outcome
Don’t think that you have to hit a certain time, but rather that you’ll run at a certain pace for a certain stretch, then at another. Break the race into small, manageable units. It’s easier to tackle one kilometer at a time than an entire marathon. Doing this will help you stay in the present and focus on what you can control.
Race Day
On race day, anxiety might knock again. It’s there, lurking, ready to pounce. But you’re ready.
Talk to Yourself Like a Friend
Speak to yourself with words of encouragement, of confidence. “Come on, you can do this. You’re trained, you’re strong.” Avoid negative thoughts, self-fulfilling prophecies. Your brain is a powerful organ, and the words you tell it are important.
Accept Anxiety, Don’t Fight It
Denial is the quickest way to make it explode. Telling yourself “I mustn’t be nervous” is like saying “don’t think of pink elephants.” Ten will appear, in single file. Accept that you’re excited. It’s part of the game. It’s a race, not a chat with a old friend.
Create Your Pre-Race Routine
Preparing things the night before, arriving with enough time, and always following the same steps are small anchors that give you security. It’s your little ritual that reduces unpredictability and gives you the (real) feeling of having many things under control. These seem like minor details, but the mind pays attention to them. And it records them.
When All Else Fails: Return to the Body
If mental techniques don’t work, there’s always plan B: the body. Return to it. Focus on the movements, on the sensation of your foot hitting the ground, on the breath entering and exiting. Anxiety lives in the future. The body, on the other hand, is always present.
Remember why you run. It’s not just for a time, for a medal. It’s for the joy of movement, for freedom, for the feeling of overcoming your limits. Remembering the deep passion that drives you to tie your shoes helps you put anxiety into perspective, to put everything back into the right place.
Performance anxiety isn’t a weakness; it’s a normal response to something that counts. If you felt nothing, it would be strange. It means you care about what you do. And you’ll see that, with a little mental training, the next time you feel that knot in your stomach, you’ll know it’s just the signal that your adventure is about to begin.