Psychologists have found that our memories aren’t literal playbacks. Instead, we tend to remember things based on:
the peak moment (high or low)
the end of the experience
Races often end on a surge, cheering crowds, pride, accomplishment, relief, maybe even a medal around your neck. I definitely experienced this at The Dark with a state of euphoria in the final minutes of the race. The suffering in the middle ends up getting edited out or softened by our brain. The “this hurts, I hate this” part fades faster than the challenge and the triumph.
That’s why runners swear off a distance mid-race, then feel strangely nostalgic about it later. The end leaves a stronger imprint than the misery and suffering.
adrenaline, endorphins, and serotonin. But the real hook isn’t the medal, it’s the anticipation of achieving your goal.
Training taps into the dopamine system. Every long run you finish, every workout you check off, every milestone you hit gives your brain a mini reward. Humans crave that sense of progress, and runners get it in a structured, measurable way:
weekly mileage build
workouts that start to feel smoother
fitness improving
confidence growth
When the race ends, the chase disappears. Suddenly there’s a void and guess what fills it really well? Another race.
Running shapes your sense of self.
When you put in weeks or months of training, the sport becomes a part of your routine, your social life, even your mental health plan.
So when a big race ends, even if it felt brutal, your brain naturally reaches for the next thing that keeps your identity intact. As a coach, I see this a lot from two angles:
New runners who finish their first big race and think, “Wow, I’m a runner now… what else can I do?”
Experienced runners who feel a little lost without something on the calendar
It’s not obsessive. It’s human and as humans we chase purpose.
Pain is temporary, but memory is selective.
There’s even research showing that people recall difficult physical experiences as less unpleasant as time passes.
That’s why childbirth jokes work. Most women wouldn’t go through childbirth more than once unless that reward at the end was truly worth it 😉. Correct me if I’m wrong mums!
It also explains why you swore you were done at kilometer 78, yet found yourself on UltraSignup two mornings later.
Your brain literally protects you from remembering the full intensity of pain. It keeps the pride, the meaning, the story… and lets the awful parts fade into a blur.
Even on the toughest day, most runners finish with a tiny thought tucked somewhere in the back of the mind:
“I think I could do that better next time.”
Maybe you want redemption.
Maybe you want a smoother race.
Maybe you want to see what you’re capable of without the heat, or the cold, or the stomach issues, or the pacing mistake.
This mindset is sure is powerful. It’s a dash of curiosity with a sprinkle of self-belief! And it’s one of the biggest drivers of athletic growth.
I see this in my athletes all the time. They finish a race, take one breath, and the next question is:
“So… what’s next?”
Race weekends have an energy you can’t recreate anywhere else. The shared effort, the camaraderie, the cheering, the collective chaos of porta-potty lines, it becomes kind of like an emotional glue.
You feel connected. You feel supported. You feel part of a world that gets you.
So once the high of that community fades, you start wanting the next dose of belonging. And races give you that in a beautiful way.
We return to racing because it gives us something that’s hard to find in everyday life:
A clear purpose, progress we can measure, and moments that make us feel truly alive.
Yes, the suffering is real.
Yes, the lows are low.
Yes, we vow “never again” with full dramatic flair. Cue for stomp and hair toss 😆
But running races also give us:
stories
confidence
resilience
identity
joy
And every one of those is addictive in its own right.
When my athletes say “never again,” I smile because I already know I’ll get a message in a week asking:
“So… what do you think about this race?”
It’s a pretty predictable pattern I see. And honestly, it’s one of my favourite things about runners.
As runners we continue to chase those start lines because honestly, we forget the pain and suffering but the journey we go on is what makes us who we are. It asks something of us. It slows us to grow. It makes us feel capable and connected in a world that can feel chaotic.
And that’s worth coming back for. Every time. So what’s next for you?