The three-letter acronym we all subconsciously dread, DNF, isn’t just in ultrarunning but in all endurance sports. The fact is that the term “Did Not Finish” flows across all human psyche and not just sports. For example, have you ever put down a book you’ve been reading without any intention of picking it back up? The difference between putting down the book for a short period of time to read something else versus never returning to that book again constitutes as a DNF. The same can be applied to a movie or a TV show you start but never actually finish.
Understanding the psyche of a DNF is nearly impossible. It’s like trying to fit the complex human brain into a box just so it can be marketed. As someone who has continued their “love affair” with endurance sports for over 14 years, I’m no rookie to a DNF.
I can enumerate the obvious reasons we’ve all used from time to time to explain why we DNF a race. It’s an endless list that ranges from “not feeling it” to going into the race undertrained, overuse and injuries. Sometimes, the reasons for a DNF are simply things that are outside of anyone’s control. Things like the weather, tweaking something that gets worse over the duration of the race, rolling your ankle, a bad fall or your body telling you to take the cues and stop. All of these are entirely valid reasons to not finish a race. But will we ever truly know the concrete reasons for a DNF?
When it comes to my own experience with DNF, there is a sense of guilt when we don’t finish a race. The struggle is ever present. A DNF leaves us with a lingering sense of self-doubt, anxiety and doom that follows. I remember my first DNF with crystal clear clarity: the Bighorn Trail Run 100 in 2017. The rollercoaster of emotions included the worry that I had given myself free reign to DNF whatever came my way. My psyche had become fickle, and I questioned if my overthinking brain would ever be able to finish a challenging mountain race. Thankfully, there was learning from this fear and no impending doom.
Fear is a friend that’s misunderstood, and it’s amazing what we can do to keep pursuing what we love. Each time we line up at the start of a race, the unknown is terrifying, but that’s what draws the human spirit to endurance sports. The unknown helps us forge ahead and create a path for ourselves. The outcome is never guaranteed but, we continue to line up at the start line of a race even after a DNF.
The guilt cycle is not an easy thing to shake off. Did I train enough? Did I try hard enough? Am I getting too old for this? Falling short of our own expectations to finish every single race that we sign up for, when halfway through the race we’ve lost our mojo, giving up feels like time wasted. But what I’ve learned about guilt from my own DNFs is that sometimes one can have a great training cycle, feel excited and ready to take on a race, yet somehow the race does not meet our emotional needs and causes friction with our psyche. Suddenly, there is stress that causes negative feelings. Running and racing should never be a cause of frustration. Instead, what I ask myself after a DNF is: how can I make my experience better?
A deeper reflection might be in order instead of charging ahead with anger and looking for redemption. Questions to ask include: is the timing of this race or the race itself hindering my ability to finish? Am I chasing the finish line for the right reasons? Is the self-made stress cycle of a DNF hindering my ability to give the race a fair shot? Will a different race/environment serve me better?
In order to give ourselves a fair chance at completing a race, timing is important. Ask yourself: do I want to try running this race at another time? Maybe the answer is not all that simple and after a DNF you decide never to return to the start line of that particular race or find your way back to the race without a timeline. These are all questions only you can answer in understanding your next course of action and moving on from a DNF.
Not every race is for every runner, The only “should” in racing is that we should run free, diversely and enthusiastically. Isn’t that the reason we laced up to run in the first place?