These are the things I’ve been chanting under my breath lately when I’m out on a run:
Butt butt butt butt butt butt… (to overcome gluteal amnesia, one of the culprits of my fluke injury last month)
Pace pace pace pace pace pace… (to achieve pace consistency versus running by sheer feel, which had trapped me in an unnecessary surge-and-recover pattern)
Pillar pillar pillar pillar pillar pillar… (to stand tall and stabilize through the hips)
Voila. Nothing elegant or profound here. In fact, it’s borderline schizophrenic. But it works, this strategy of talking to the body. On my last hilly 10-miler I sputtered “butt butt butt” to power up all the hills, and the next day my backside was distinctly sore. Don’t believe me? Try it. Seriously, just give it a try.