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SportLifestyle

by Sofia Brontvein

Why Running Is So Damn Hard

16 Aug 2025

Image: Midjourney x The Sandy Times

I have been doing sports since I was two. Not in the poetic, "ran barefoot in the grass" way. No — I mean competitive swimming, medal after medal, chlorine in my eyes, and a cap tighter than any toddler should ever tolerate. Then came big tennis. Boxing. And later, cycling — the love of my grown-up life. Right now, I train around nine hours per week. I have quads of steel. I can climb a 10% incline on a bike and still hold a conversation. So, naturally, when I decided to start running, I expected it to feel like just another switch in disciplines.
It wasn’t.
It has been a few months since I started running, and let me be painfully honest: I suck. Really. It is hard for me to run even one kilometre faster than 7 minutes. My heart rate climbs like I am sprinting away from a grizzly bear — always somewhere around 150 bpm, never dipping into the elusive second zone, where you are supposedly training smart. The only thing I am training is my tolerance for disappointment. I feel drained. Every time. Legs heavy, breath shallow, brain screaming “why are we doing this again?”
Right now, I run 7 kilometres twice a week. And I struggle. To run faster, to run longer, to not just stop and go home after the first 500 metres. It is humbling. It is infuriating. It is... weirdly addictive.
So why is running so damn hard?
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Image: Midjourney x The Sandy Times

Let’s start with the body

Running is a high-impact, full-body activity. Unlike cycling, where the bike carries part of your weight and your movement is smooth and rhythmic, running sends shockwaves through your skeleton every time your foot hits the ground. Your muscles — especially the tiny ones you forgot existed — are suddenly recruited for stabilisation, propulsion, and coordination. Your joints complain. Your tendons scream. Your brain starts plotting your exit strategy before you even finish your warm-up.
And then there is the cardiovascular side. Just because you are fit in one discipline doesn’t mean your heart and lungs have adapted to another. Cycling is efficient — the movement is controlled and limited to specific muscle groups. Running is chaotic. It demands more oxygen, more coordination, more raw effort. It is like being a seasoned pianist suddenly handed a trumpet and told to solo.

And then there is your mind

Running is repetitive. Lonely. Sometimes even boring. There is nothing to distract you — no changing terrain like on a bike ride, no back-and-forth rhythm like in tennis, no opponent to dodge. It is just you and your thoughts and your heartbeat thumping in your throat. If you are tired or stressed or doubting yourself — running will shove it all right into your face.
The mental game is brutal. And for perfectionists — people like me, who are used to doing things well and fast and on schedule — it is especially cruel. You can’t will yourself into progress. You can’t grind your way into a 5-minute pace. You just have to run, and let your body catch up. Slowly. Painfully. Week by week.
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Image: Midjourney x The Sandy Times

So how do you keep going when you suck at running?

Let me tell you what has been working for me — the tiny tricks that make me lace up my shoes instead of staying in my nice air-conditioned Dubai apartment.
1. Lower the damn bar. Forget your watch. Ignore Strava. Don’t care about pace. Run slow. Slower than you think is reasonable. Run-walk if you need to. Your goal is not to impress anyone — it is to adapt. The fastest way to burn out is trying to run like a seasoned marathoner when your body still thinks it is on the couch.
2. Repeat the same route. It sounds counterintuitive, but running the same 5K or 7K loop helps you track your own internal progress. The first time, it feels endless. The tenth time, you start recognising landmarks, your body learns where the hills are, and suddenly it isn't so terrifying anymore.
3. Embrace boredom — or distract yourself. Some days, I romanticise the silence. Other days, I throw on a podcast so ridiculous it makes me forget I am running. (Once, I laughed out loud at a true crime joke. It was weird. No regrets.) Find what keeps you mentally present — or pleasantly absent.
4. Train by time, not distance. Instead of thinking “I have to run 7 kilometres,” tell yourself, “I’m just going to move for 45 minutes.” It is less intimidating. It makes you feel accomplished no matter how fast or slow you go.
5. Celebrate small wins. Ran 1K without stopping? That is a win. Didn’t check your pace every five seconds? Win. Didn’t hate your life until kilometre four instead of one? Huge win. Write them down. Remind yourself that progress in running is measured in millimeters, not milestones.
6. Run in the morning. Especially in Dubai. It is cooler. It is quieter. Your brain isn’t fully awake enough to protest yet. Plus, it feels like you have won the day before it even started.
7. Be ridiculously kind to yourself. Running isn’t just a sport. It is an act of vulnerability. Of patience. Of facing your limits and still showing up. Some days will suck. Some runs will feel like regressions. That is part of it. Don’t quit because it is hard. Trust that one day, you will look back and say: God, remember when I thought 7 minutes per kilometre was fast?
That day will come. I promise.
Until then, I will be out there. Huffing, puffing, dragging my legs forward, trying to believe in my own advice — and learning, very slowly, how to run.