By Paradis Pro, Annika Landis 

This past month, I had the privilege of getting to travel through Europe, first to Ireland and then to France. The first part of the trip was with my wonderful sister, Kaitlyn, and we explored the impossibly green mountains of Ireland. Even the rain and the cold couldn’t stop us from having the best time! We explored Killarney National Park, summiting the highest peak in Ireland - Carrauntoohil - and over 10 other highpoints. 

Running the high ridges in Killarney National Park in Ireland during a rare moment of sun. 

After a week in Ireland, I headed solo to the Pyrenees in France to do a mini running camp, with a race at the end. I have been rehabbing an injury in my hips, so I was unsure how my body would hold up during the week, but I was pleasantly surprised! I was able to run over 100 miles in the mountains without pain and I was feeling great with how my running form was progressing. At the end of the week, I was registered for a 20k race; I had originally planned on doing the 43k, but unfortunately they sold out and I couldn’t get off the waitlist. C'est la vie!  

In the days before the race, as town began to fill with racers (the Hoka-Salomon vest combo is a dead giveaway), I felt what can only be described as overwhelming Imposter Syndrome. I felt out of place, unprepared, and suddenly worried about performing well. The intensity of this feeling unnerved me considering that (1) this was a race where nobody knew who I was, (2) there were absolutely zero stakes, and (3) I was actually quite prepared and fit, even if maybe I was a bit overtrained.  

Some of the incredible views from the Pyrenees in southern France. Photo on the right is the iconic Pic du Canigó.  

I was caught off guard, but I was not entirely surprised. I have always loved trail running and mountain adventures, but since I was a young girl running cross-country and track, I have struggled to feel confident putting myself in the category of ‘good runners.’ I was, and remain, self-conscious about my running form and ability. Early on, I was aware that this insecurity was almost entirely because of how I perceived my body to fit (or not) into the dysmorphic narrative around what fast runners look like. 

Through the years, I have found a variety of strategies for dealing with this kind of self-criticism in both skiing and running: through psychological tools (self-talk, imagery, journaling), through vulnerable conversations with family, friends and teammates, through improving technique, and even with a touch of self-deprecating (but lighthearted!) humor. I have become a lot more self-assured and gained confidence in myself, but it is still a work in progress.    

Walking through the crowds of other participants in the race, I felt profoundly aware of myself in relation to them. I became more self-critical of my body and less confident in my fitness. Other insecurities buzzed noisily in my mind, making my stomach hurt and my chest feel tight. All things I know logically don’t determine my ability to perform, but still, running feels exposing to me in a way that skiing does not.

The National Institute of Health defines Imposter Syndrome as a behavioral health phenomenon described as self-doubt of intellect, skills, or accomplishments among high-achieving individuals, [who] cannot internalize their success and subsequently experience pervasive feelings of self-doubt, anxiety, depression, and/or apprehension of being exposed as a fraud in their work, despite verifiable and objective evidence of their successfulness.” 

I think that all athletes have experienced this feeling in some way, and the very nature of our ambitiousness makes us vulnerable to downplaying our successes because we always want to be better, go further, dig deeper, achieve more.      

At the race, I was hyper aware that I was hyperaware, which made me anxious and upset with myself for being hyper aware. I just ran 100 miles of rugged mountain trails this week for goodness sake! But that’s just it, I feel confident in my ability to run slowly for a long time, but running fast against other people? That’s where I feel doubt encroaching.

And that is the first step to combating imposter syndrome: identifying the moments that trigger these feelings of doubt. So much of changing our psychology to be more positive is paying more attention to our thoughts and the contexts in which we have them. If we can notice negative thoughts creeping in and identify their source, we can redirect them. Positive self-talk is incredibly helpful in moments like this. I am the first to admit that I am not very good at it, and am not always consistent in applying it. But it is a big goal of mine to be less complacent during moments of negativity, and to be proactive about creating new and positive neural pathways. I am already seeing results and I am going to take you through my race in France to show how I use a simple three-step process to reframe insecurities into strength. 

The Process: 

Step 1: IDENTIFY the negative thought/feeling, and the source or trigger. 

Step 2: REDIRECT with a personalized mantra 

Step 3: REPEAT, repeat, repeat! 

Fed up with feeling anxious when I should have been having fun, I made myself repeat the mantras: “you are strong”,  “you are confident”  and “you are a fighter” everytime I felt insecure. As I walked to pick up my bib, I felt calmer, but admittedly not entirely convinced. 

Our brains like patterns, and it takes time to create new ones. One day of positivity will not undo years of self-doubt, so consistency here is key. I have spent years developing phrases that work for me and I have a variety that I use depending on what type of motivation I need. If you are new to self-talk or mantras, start by writing down a list of options and try them out to see which ones fit and resonate with you.    

For example I had my sister made me a beaded bracelet with the acronym ‘HTFU’ which I have been using since college, and stands for ‘harden the f**k up.” To me that doesn’t mean to ignore pain, stifle negativity or be unhealthy mentally or physically. It means embrace discomfort, because it makes you stronger. It means don’t let anything rattle you, including yourself. It means do the hard work to be confident AND vulnerable. Basically it means trust yourself, be strong, believe, and be tenacious.  

None of my mantras have anything to do with performance - they are connected to effort. I stay away from things like “you will win” because I can’t control that. Effort is something I CAN control, every time, and as long as I can say I gave my best effort, I am successful, regardless of the result.  

Pre-race prep and startline recon.  

By the start of the race, I was feeling better mentally, but still not great. My goal was to just run my own race, have fun, and not worry about my performance. The first 10k of the race was all uphill, and I was determined to find a good pace at the start and just stay there. I soon found that I was outpacing the other women, and I thought maybe I was going too fast. Here was my first opportunity to redirect a negative thought with positive self-talk. 

Redirect #1: feeling: doubt, mantra: “trust yourself!” 

A skeptical glance at the photographer about 5k into the climb.  

Still feeling good, I decided to see how much of a gap I could get by the top of the climb, staying in control but increasing the pace. I pushed over the top at 10k, still leading, but starting to hurt. I felt sloppy at the start of the descent, not quite trusting my downhill legs. 

Redirect #2: feeling: instability, mantra “be Jack Sparrow” (picture Killian Jornet running downhill to Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack - it’s weird but incredibly effective) 

I started to suffer a bit in the last half of the race, my stomach was cramping, my legs were heavy, and I was starting to feel the powerful urge to slow down. As I fought back the cramps, I looked at that bracelet, the HTFU surrounded by cute little colorful beads, and I thought, well if I vomit I vomit. If I blow up, I blow up. It reminded me that I am in charge, or I can at least pretend to be. 

Redirect #3: feeling: pain, mantra: “you got this”, “you feel good”, “you are strong”. 

I felt better, certainly not good by any stretch of the imagination, but better able to mentally overcome the discomfort and keep pushing myself (the sports psychologists might be right about this positive self-talk thing?). I ended up winning, but I would have been proud of myself regardless of the result because I executed my race plan, and used the tools I have been working on mentally to push and motivate myself. That is the real success. I gave three examples, but I probably redirected a thought every few minutes. 

So to anyone who struggles to feel confident, remember that YOU are in control and you can change the way you think by consistently redirecting your negative thoughts into positive, or at the very least neutral, ones. Just like building fitness, your mental approach takes practice and training, and unlike your VO2 max, is transferable to almost every part of your life. It is empowering to feel how big of a difference something as simple as a bracelet, a quirky phrase or a soundtrack can make - and it makes training and racing a lot more fun!

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