How Social Conditioning Can Cost You a Race

In the dark at Massanutten 100, I rolled into the Camp Roosevelt aid station highly aware I was later than I’d ever been but happy to be there at 63.9 miles with a long section safely behind me.

I focused on business. This year’s race was taking a lot out of me and I needed to sit for a moment with my drop bag to get gels and a spare headlamp for the 5.8-mile section ahead to the Gap Creek aid station. My headlamp was already dim and wouldn’t make it through the next section.

Jeff Reed, the aid station captain extraordinaire I’ve known forever, came over to ask what I needed, and so did my friend, long-time ultrarunner Dan Lehmann. Seeing them was just the lift I needed.

As they waited to help, I rooted around in my drop bag for the headlamp. And searched again.

With a sinking feeling, I came up empty. 

I was way later than usual and must not have put a spare headlamp here.

I had no alternative, so I asked Jeff and Dan if either had a headlamp I could borrow and Dan immediately handed me his.

He said, “It’s good but I can put in new batteries.”

I replied, “No, I need to head out. It’ll be fine, thank you!”

I stood up, waited as he stuffed the headlamp in my pack’s side pocket, thanked him again, and walked out into the night.

A third of the way through the section, my headlamp dimmed enough to be dangerous, so I stopped, took off my pack and swapped it out with Dan’s.

Pack back on, I proceeded forward.

For 60 seconds…when Dan’s headlamp flashed.

Oh. Crap. Headlamp and spare both had mere minutes of light left.

This was bad. I was about to be alone in the woods in the middle of the night without a headlamp.

The rest of the story will come later, but on the way to the Gap Creek aid station, I searched back through the chain of events for what caused this headlamp fiasco.

One primary cause? My own internalized social conditioning.

When Dan offered the fresh batteries, I vividly remember hearing myself say, “No, I need to head out. It’ll be fine, thank you,” and knowing it wasn’t 100% true. 

It was really a graceful way to avoid inconveniencing a friend more than I already had.

In the back of my mind was, “I can get by. I don’t need to bother him more.”

Asking for the headlamp was hard but necessary. Inconveniencing him on top of that, wasn’t.

Women are socially indoctrinated to take care of everyone else before ourselves. If we take away from someone else, we’re selfish.

Asking for help - the headlamp - was hard but seemed reasonable. Asking for more than I needed - fresh batteries - felt selfish. 

It’s so ingrained, it almost cost me a major race I’ve waited 23 years to run. All for three little batteries Dan would have been delighted to give.

Look at your own races. 

Where do you feel uncomfortable asking for help? 

When have you done without to avoid inconveniencing others? 

The solution is to ask for and accept what you really need, even when it’s uncomfortable.

If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for the sake of your race.

Get honest about where you’re sabotaging yourself like this - even with your own crew or pacer. Practice asking for what you really need, not the minimum you might be able to get by with.

You’ll avoid unnecessary problems, race better, and allow people who want to help actually help you.

You already do plenty of hard things - this one makes the rest of the hard things easier.