Raise your hand if this sounds familiar:
“I’m too slow for the track.”
“I’ll just be in the way.”
“Everyone will watch me struggle.”
Yep. I’ve thought all of that too.
When I first stepped onto a proper track, it felt like I’d crashed the Olympic Trials by mistake. Everyone around me looked lean, fast, and focused—like they ate intervals for breakfast. I, on the other hand, felt like an awkward tourist with no map.
But here’s the truth: the track isn’t a private club. It’s not just for elites or college sprinters in short shorts. It’s for anyone chasing a goal, whether that’s breaking 5:00 in the mile or running four laps without stopping. If you can move your feet, you belong.
My First Track Wake-Up Call
I’ll never forget one of my early track sessions. I was doing 400m repeats, legs heavy, lungs on fire. Meanwhile, a local club was out there doing what looked like warp-speed intervals. I was getting lapped so often it felt like a carousel. At one point, a guy sprinted by and gave me a quick thumbs-up. Just a simple gesture—but it hit me hard.
Later, one of the runners actually cooled down with me. He told me, “When I started, I was the one getting passed all the time too.” That stuck with me. It reminded me that we all start somewhere. Showing up, doing the work—even if you’re slow—that’s what earns respect. Not your pace.
Getting lapped isn’t failure. It’s part of the process. It means you’re in the arena, not watching from the sidelines.
No One’s Actually Watching You
Most runners are too deep in their own pain caves to care what you’re doing. Trust me—they’re thinking about their splits, their breathing, or whether they’re gonna throw up during the last rep. You are not their concern.
And if someone is judging you for being slower? That says way more about them than it does about you. The good ones—the serious runners—respect anyone who shows up with heart and grit.
Lane 1 is Fair Game
I remember reading a Reddit thread where a newer runner was worried about using the inside lane during public hours. The consensus was clear: use the lane. If someone’s faster, they’ll go around. That’s how it works. You’re not breaking any sacred rule by being slower. You’re doing exactly what the track is there for—getting stronger.
Think of it like a public gym. Just because the guy next to you can squat 400 pounds doesn’t mean you have to leave. You paid your dues by showing up and lifting what you can. The track’s the same. Respect goes to the effort, not the finish time.
Learning the Track Basics (and Messing Up)
Now, sure, there are some unspoken rules—like don’t suddenly stop in lane 1 or drift across when someone’s coming up fast behind you. But you’ll pick those up quick. And if you mess up? Don’t sweat it.
I’ve made my fair share of rookie mistakes. One time, I stopped dead in lane 1 to check my watch and got hit with a sharp “Track!” from behind (basically runner code for “Move, I’m coming through!”). Embarrassing? A little. But it wasn’t a big deal. I moved. I learned. I didn’t die.
How to Break the Mental Wall
Here’s my advice: show up with a plan.
Don’t just wander onto the track unsure of what you’re doing—that’s when your brain starts inventing fake problems like “everyone’s looking at me.” Instead, have a simple plan in your head. Something like:
- Warm up jog – 2 laps
- 6 x 200m strides with walk recoveries
- Cool down – 1 mile easy jog
Boom. You’re there with purpose. Head down, focus on your work. Plug in some music (if allowed), stay in your zone, and forget the rest.
Also—pick a time that works for your nerves. I used to go mid-afternoon on Sundays because it was always dead quiet. That gave me space to figure things out without an audience. Now I can handle any crowd, but back then, silence helped.
Every Fast Runner Was Once a Newbie
That guy blasting 60-second 400s? He once couldn’t run a mile without gasping. That woman who’s floating through tempo reps? She probably remembers her first awkward track day too. Nobody starts out smooth and fast. Everyone earns their place with time and sweat.
Even if you’re jogging 13-minute miles, you’re still lapping everyone who stayed on the couch. That’s a win. Own it.
Make the Track Fun Again
Don’t let it turn into a pressure cooker. It’s just a 400m loop, not a court of judgment. Some days I do goofy strides just to shake things up—high knees, karaoke drills, skipping like I’m in gym class. Other days, I’ll do “curve & straights” fartleks where I sprint the straightaway and jog the curves. It’s not fancy—it’s just me playing.
The more fun you have out there, the less power fear has over you. And slowly, lap after lap, that nervousness will fade.
Let’s Talk: What’s holding you back from using the track?
Drop your biggest fear or first track story below—let’s trade battle tales. And if you’ve already made peace with the track, what helped flip the switch for you?