Now that the athletics has kicked off at the Olympics and with the marathon this weekend, what better subject for today than DNS and DNFs. When we’re all seeing them happening on our screens to elite athletes, it’s a handy time to perhaps reflect on our own relationship to them as runners. The crux of this Substack is this- if you wake up on race day (Olympics or otherwise!) and don’t feel 100%, should you go ahead and run your race risking a DNF?
As runners we invest a lot of time and effort into training, we set goals, make sacrifices that enable us to train, pay the entry fee, travel to the race and then instead of having a shiny new PB there is either a did not start the race (DNS) or did not finish (DNF) next to your name for all and sundry to see. Dropping out can be a huge blow to any runners confidence and how you subsequently feel about your ability as a runner. If you are feeling less than fantastic in the lead up to a race, when is it ok to risk it, run the race and have to drop out or when do you know to call it quits and hang up your trainers and admit defeat and not even venture to the start line?
Both DNF and DNS are reminders of the unpredictable nature of running and serve as valuable lessons in resilience and acceptance and whilst it’s hard, I really believe we must learn to brush off the disappointment and use it as fuel for future success. While it may be disheartening, DNF and DNS are integral parts of the running journey and can ultimately make you stronger and more determined to cross the finish line in the future.
I remember very clearly a DNS, and it was nothing to do with whether I’d trained enough, it was purely mental, the pressure to be part of a team and race for my club but against my friend, with the added stress of only a 5 min warming before the start of the race was too much for my inexperienced running brain. The race in question was a half marathon and part of the Hampshire Road Race League, a competitive local event. Upon arrival at the race, our club captain approached us saying it was important that we raced to score points for the ladies’ team, there were only 4 ladies from our club running it and they needed a team of 3 to score, I knew then that the race would be hard, that I would be on the coat tail of my friend and that I would more than likely be “last” in the team of 4. That was it, the pressure and my inexperience quite literally stopped me in my tracks so I made some excuse about being poorly and then sat and waited in the car for 2 hours for my friend to finish. The only person who missed out was me, a tough lesson to learn but it’s never left me.
I’ve also ran numerous races where I’m convinced that I’ve needed to pull out, battling with the mental demons who have tried to tell me that I need to stop immediately as I might die, but in most cases and with lots of races under my belt I’ve learnt that I probably won’t die and to suck up the discomfort. The more you race the more experienced you become at knowing, well yourself. This race (London Marathon 2010) was another tough mental battle against the urge to DNF, I had underestimated how busy the event was, bearing in mind this was 14 years ago, and I hadn’t been able to prepare myself for what that would look or feel like, it was a real eye opener into the larger major marathons that is quite often overlooked, I did push through these mental barriers finishing a better, stronger runner.
If you are feeling apprehensive about an upcoming race, just ask yourself how has you training really been? Honestly, do you think you have done enough? Are there other factors affecting your decision, is life busy, have you got time to give up most of the day for a race? Are you putting too much pressure on yourself, should you adjust your race goals? Will there be other races, or have you pinned everything to this one event?
And this is where the difficulty lies, how do you know the difference between being physically unprepared or mentally unprepared, if you know you’re not ready to run the race but you’ve paid your money, you’re with your running buddies so you don’t want to miss so against better judgement, you give it a go anyway. But what if you hate it so much that you vow never to race ever again. Maybe if runners felt more able to just walk off the course without feeling like a failure, then, ironically, it wouldn’t seem like such a failure?
There is no definitive answer to this, only you know your own fortitudes and limits from your experience. But I’d spend a bit of time reviewing your goals for race day, are they still attainable, if not then change them, have a plan B, C, D. You will recover from disappointment and embarrassment if you DNS or DNF as you learn to analyse what went wrong, perhaps overtraining, too much pressure at home or at work, and then you can deal with it and move on. And of course we all suffer from race amnesia, forgetting about the pain, and how it actually felt at the time, sometimes rewriting the narrative but just remind yourself that in the moment you made the choices you needed to make at that time.
Would love to hear any of your DNS and DNF stories in the comments!
I was booked to do a (fairly rural) half in mid-June. I was really struggling with a hip injury, I could barely walk without being in pain. I’d got through a club 4-mile race in the week with a bit of grimacing. I was honestly not at all confident in my ability to get through the race. I got talked into starting by my partner & best friend who were also both running.
I dropped out at about 2 miles. I knew I could not take another 2 hours of that pain, and I didn’t want to be really forced into stopping in the middle of nowhere with no way back at 7 miles.
Didn’t really have the confidence in my ability to finish before I started and I’d probably made my mind up I wasn’t finishing before I started. So mentally I wasn’’t there. A half was just too much on that injury.
Had it been a 10k, I’d probably have finished.
I don’t think I’ve ever been a DNF, couldn’t bring myself to do that.