Brain vs brain vs body: The internal struggle

The alarm disturbs my dreams and I’m catapulted back to reality. Some seconds pass until it dawns on me that I’m not an astronaut. Disappointment turns to horror as I also remember that I’m not capable of a four minute mile.

Sigh.

Rolling out of bed with a thud, I shuffle downstairs, throw on some ill-matching running gear and fall out of the front door with as much grace as a baby elephant. Training today involves sticking to a particular heart rate zone for an hour. That zone has a range of 10bpm. At its lowest, it currently feels like a medium effort run and at its highest, it feels like I’m racing. (It’s amazing the difference 10 beats per minute makes!)

My plan is to strike somewhere in the middle of this range. This means it’s no walk in the park, however easy enough so that throwing up at the end is not on the agenda.

After a warm up I’m off and five minutes later I’ve found my target heart rate which feels very comfortable. Here is where top brain and bottom brain start to pipe up.


Bottom Brain: “This is too easy, I’m bored. Go faster!”.

Top Brain: “Stick to the plan. There’s another 55 minutes of this. It will get harder.”

But Bottom Brain doesn’t give up. For the next ten minutes he fills my ears with encouragement, goading and nagging. “Do it. Run like it’s your last chance. Do it. Find the top heart rate.”

Showing similar willpower to my brother when shown a Custard Cream, I give in and start to push on, kicking up slightly. In my minds eye I see Top Brain roll his eyes but I can’t hear anything he’s saying because Bottom Brain is making too much noise as I zip along the pavement.

“Yeehar!” he whoops. “This is brilliant, look as us go!”

Next thing I know, Bottom Brain has spotted another runner and let’s out a high pitched squeal, putting up chase and quickly sailing past the early morning jogger. “Great work… She was 85 with a dodgy hip” grumbles Top Brain. But Bottom Brain can’t hear for he’s spotted a paper-boy on a bicycle…

20 minutes later and the whooping gets noticeably quieter. After 30 minutes it’s a pathetic whisper.

“You’re only half way”. Top Brain smugly points out. He then utters words normally reserved by my wife. “I told you so”…

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