How mental is marathon running?

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We hear a lot about the mental aspects of other sports.  Bobby Jones famously told us that golf is played on a five-and-a-half inch course, the space between the ears.  Peyton Manning’s mental advantage is what makes him the dominant quarterback of the era in the NFL.  Watch any sport on TV and you’re bound to hear an announcer exalting the importance of mental poise among the game’s top athletes.

But what about distance running?  Can the head game possibly play a large part in a sport in which there are so few decisions to be made during the course of an event, a contest where physical conditioning is such a dominant factor?  Runner’s World magazine brought the mental side of running to the forefront this month with its cover story about marathon sensation Kara Goucher and how she deals with her mental demons during a race, and it got me to thinking: Does it really matter?

For shorter-distance running, especially sprinting, I can see it.  Lose your focus for a second, fail to execute a single stride correctly, and the race could be lost.  And for top marathoners racing against other elites, there are psychological decisions to be made, since one’s actions might affect how opponents race, and eventually make the difference in who breaks the tape.  But for the average Joe or Jane racing against only the clock, I’m not so sure.

When I refer the mental game in this context, it’s important to note that I don’t mean knowledge.  Knowledge comes from experience, and it’s undeniable that having a few marathons under your belt can help with preparation, recognizing your body’s signals, and perhaps most importantly, pacing.  (Take it from me, the guy whose halfway point in his first marathon, in terms of time, was the eighteen-mile marker.  My whole body hurts just thinking about that day.)  Rather than knowledge, I’m talking about what’s sometimes called the “winner’s edge,” the poise and focus that seem so indispensable for other sports.

Over the course of 26.2 miles, there’s not much to be nervous about,  besides possibly some initial jitters that disappear shortly after the gun fires.  And if there’s any pressure, it’s hard to point to a single moment where it’s intense.  So I’d say poise is pretty useless in the marathon.  And what about focus?  In my experience, too much focus can be a negative: anytime I’ve tried yerba mate or other caffeine drink before a race, in hopes of reaping the supposed benefits of increased mental focus, I’ve crashed hard after my mind fatigued before my legs did.  When I’m running long, I’d much sooner zone out than focus my attention like a laser beam on the massive task in front of me.  A marathon or an ultra is just too long for laser beams.

Other than the small, idiosyncratic mental tricks that many of us use for managing pain, I can think of only one attribute of the inner game that has ever made a substantial difference in my performance on race day.  And that, simply put, is wanting it enough.  The few times in my running career when I’ve had to really dig deep, not just to hit a time goal but even to finish a race, that’s where I’ve turned.  I’ve asked myself how badly I wanted it, and on those few occasions when the answer was “More than the pain I’m going to have to endure to make it happen,” it happened.

Wanting it—that’s a pretty big one.  To end with a cliche what was supposed to be a contrarian look at the mental side of running: Perhaps the strongest runners, all else equal, are simply those who want it the most.

I’m interested to know what other runners think about this one.  Does the mental game matter?