The Ultimate Motivators: Goals and Buddies

By Mary Reed

When I signed up for the Rachel Carson Trail Challenge, an ultramarathon hike (nearly 35 miles in one day), I figured it would be much easier to train with a partner and a friend. So I talked my friend Anny into signing up, too, and we spent each Friday all spring hiking together, increasing the mileage week by week.

It turns out, I was right about the motivating influence of both the goal and the partner. “Having a goal to train for when you’re doing anything helps you organize your thoughts, organize your efforts (and) helps you track your progress,” says Kristen Dieffenbach, assistant professor of athletic coaching education at West Virginia University.

“Having a friend or a group to be accountable to for your goals adds to that element of support, but it also adds accountability,” Kristin adds, noting that you and your training partner’s goals should be similar – one shouldn’t be training for a marathon while another is training for a lap around the back yard. She also says that you need to communicate to your partner what exactly you need from them. “Let your support people know what they’re supposed to do for support; otherwise, it’s not very helpful,” she says.

Sometimes what I needed was encouragement to keep going. There was the day I wanted to take a shortcut on our 20-miler. “No!” Anny insisted. I protested, but I was actually relieved she made us complete our hike. After all, that’s exactly what I relied on her for. Plus, it was all just plain fun. Friday became our favorite day of the week.

“You choose (your training partners) carefully,” Kristin says. “One of the most powerful things about (training) groups is the social affiliation with a goal.” This proved to be true, also. Anny and I had known each other for 15 years, but as our mileage intensified that spring, so did our friendship.

But then the infamous grapevine incident occurred – “Anny, want to swing on the mother of all grapevines?” Minutes later, I watched in horror as she slipped off the vine, into the ravine, her body crumpling hideously to the ground. I thought I had killed her or maimed her for life! I ran down the slope, yelling, “Anny, Anny, are you okay?!” like a stupid eighth grade CPR student. But she picked herself up, dusted herself off and finished the 11-mile hike without complaint.

Then came the swelling, the bruises, the anti-inflammatories, the physical therapy. Anny picked herself up again and again to continue training. She couldn’t hike as far with two swollen, bruised ankles, so we began to hike shorter mileages but faster, knowing we had to tackle not only 35 miles, but at a three-mile-per-hour pace. Despite Anny’s injuries, we were still encouraging each other to stick with it.

As the big day approached, Anny drove with me to Pittsburgh. I encouraged her to start the hike – just go with me as far as the eight-mile rest stop, I suggested – and she considered it. It was more important to me to hike with Anny that day than to finish. I suspect she knew this fact and that’s why, on the big day, she declined to begin the hike with me and slow me down. All our training together honed my legs, my lungs, my supplies, my diet. It’s no wonder that, 15 hours later, I succeeded in completing the event that I – we – had trained for all spring. And who was there to greet me at the finish line? Anny, of course.