The role of burnout

It may seem contradictory that I'm writing a post on my experiences with burnout so soon after a post about pushing my limits.  No, I am not currently burnt out, neither physically nor mentally, and I'm now a much smarter runner than I was to reduce the chances of this happening again.  However, burnout has played a large role in my development as a runner, so I feel it's worth writing a post about.  To that end, we go back to 2008.

Throwback to 2008, the first time I broke 17 minutes in the 5K!

2008 was a good year for my running. In the spring, I had joined the track team after thinking I'd not compete in college and made excellent gains. I ran my first sub-17 minute 5K (coming after I had never broken 18 in high school), and that 5K itself was the day after a 10K.  Summer running went well, and I came into cross-country season feeling fast.  I ended the season with a PR of just under 28 minutes for 8K, which I didn't beat again until after college.

Then 2009 came.  Indoor track season started well, but towards the end of February (the week before the conference meet), I developed a pain in my one Achilles' tendon.  I took a few days off, took some Aleve, and ran the 5K that weekend.  The pain subsided, and I continued to train into the start of outdoor season.  The week before the first meet, tendonitis hit my other Achilles' tendon, only much more severe than it affected the other one.  This took the better part of a month before I could start running again, and by that point, the season was pretty much shot.

I wanted to come back strongly for the fall, so I took summer training seriously. Within a month of coming back to running, I was in the 65 miles per week range (compared to what I can handle now, this doesn't sound like much, but at the time, my highest week was around 70).  But things went downhill quickly.  I had trouble falling asleep at night and would wake up frequently or long before I planned to get up.  I averaged about 4 or 5 hours of sleep per night.  I often didn't have much of an appetite.  I was tired all of the time.  Worst of all, running became awful. Any type of workout quickly got cut short and turned into an easy run.  I couldn't complete workouts that I had been able to previously.  My only 5K race of the summer ended up well over 19 minutes.  Despite these problems, I was stubborn and thought it was just a phase.  I kept running, hoping it would get better.

It didn't.  The new semester began; I had a tough course load that year, yet I was fatigued and still could not sleep much.  Workouts were awful, and weekend after weekend I suffered through one miserable race after another.  My best race of the season was a minute slower than my worst race the previous fall.  I should have cut the season off early, but I still kept running, hoping it would get better.  

It wasn't until the end of the season that I took time off.  I had one week away from running, and I could feel myself getting stronger every day.  It wasn't enough.  I wanted to get strong and have a strong track season, but by starting back too early, I was doing the opposite.  I was getting more sleep, but sleep problems still remained.  I ended indoor track with a 17:25 5K; it was a step in the right direction.  Soon after, though, I was "injured" again; I felt a twinge in my back during an easy run and had trouble running after that.  Maybe it was a sign from the universe to take a break, so I did.  I only attempted a few outdoor races that season, including the steeplechase, which ended up as the only DNF of my life (and to this day).  

Finally, I took more time off.  Two weeks of nothing.  When I stepped out for that first run, I felt both awesome and awful at the same time.  I was rested and finally ready to get better.  I had an excellent summer training season, leading into what was my best cross-country season in college.  Sure, I didn't PR that season, but I was consistently close to a PR on a wide variety of tough courses.  This season then led into my best track season in college, with PRs in every distance from 800 to 10K (excluding the steeple, which will likely never be attempted again).  I've been improving still since then.

Final cross-country season in college.  Much healthier and stronger than the previous two years!

That burnout phase was one of the toughest times in my progression as a runner, yet it was also one of the most informational, as it taught me how to not train.  It also taught me the more subtle signs of burnout (besides workouts starting to be unsuccessful and running not being fun).  Aside from the loss of appetite, insomnia, and fatigue, I also learned about listening to my body a lot more.  Although I don't train based on heart rate, I became more in tune with paying attention to my resting heart rate and how well I recover.  If it's creeping up day after day, I now know I need to take it easy.  Unfortunately, burnout affects almost everyone differently, and you could google "overtraining symptoms" or "burnout symptoms" and find a dozen more.

I haven't been burnt out since that year.  I can run many more miles than I did back then, but it took time to build up to this level.  Jumping up all at once, especially after injury, is a one-way trip to burnout or injury.  It's easy to look back and say that I should have been smarter, but the long-term goal of having a great next season clouded the ability to accomplish that goal healthily.  The burnout cost me at least a half of a year of improvements, but because of it, I came out a smarter, better runner.