I was having a conversation about running, as I’d recently hit a tiny distance goal (2 miles, ugh) after rehabbing an Achilles injury for the better part of 2 years. “What do you think to yourself when your body hurts and you want to stop?” A valid question. I’d been a half decent distance runner in the past, so the answer came easily. I have a mantra. In time with my labored footfalls and ragged breath, I tell myself: “Don’t quit. Be strong. Keep going.” Over and over and over. “Don’t quit. Be strong. Keep going.” For miles and miles and miles. I also had to laugh and say, “I also have a nerdy neuroscience viewpoint on ‘keep going’.” Something I learned in a neuroanatomy course way back when and never forgot.
Humans (and all mammals) have two main distinctions in their brains. One we can simply call the “primitive” or reptilian brain. It includes the structures that operate automatically or on instinct. These deep, buried structures in the mammalian brains are responsible for reflexive things like breathing, regulating hormones, detecting threats in the environment, and for the purpose of this story—movement patterns. The other main part is the evolutionarily newest part of a mammal’s brain—the neocortex. The cortex gives rise to consciousness, decision-making, and also goal-directed movement.
Our actions then can arise from two different pathways. Top-down, where our conscious thoughts influence the automated structures. And bottom-up, where reflex and instinct influence our conscious thought. Where am I going with this…? Here’s the cool part: in animals where movement patterns like walking or running have to be maintained, it’s a primitive structure, called the basal ganglia, that operates in a feedback loop to keep you walking or keep you running without you having to think about performing every single step.
So the moral of the story is that you DECIDE to start. And you also DECIDE to stop. To keep going is automatic. To keep going is the default. Your brain will automatically tell your legs to go and go and go until the you part of you, your conscious, decision-making part of you, says ‘ok stop’. To keep going is bottom-up. To stop is top-down. You have to WANT to quit.
Powerful stuff, right?
It’s no secret that the last several months have been especially difficult for me, with crisis on top of crisis, grief layered upon grief, nothing but uncertainty when it was time to make critical decisions. I didn’t feel like myself at times. Usually so sure of myself, I felt paralyzed. Once so motivated and energetic, I felt withdrawn and unable to function. I somehow pushed through the initial waves of grief and anger and confusion until they slowly started to subside. And now, I remind myself once again that to keep going is the default. Not just with running, but with living. With horse life and all the challenges that come with it… Maybe the nuances of finding a way forward through pain and grief and uncertainty and that finding a way to love and care for a fragile animal is not controlled by a simple structure like the basal ganglia, but if you’re a horse person like me, there MUST be something in our brain that tells us to just. keep. going. To not give up. To know that challenges will come, but they will pass. Somehow, even in unimaginable crises, life goes forward. The sun still rises. There are still horses to care for. I would have to choose to stop.
And will I?
No, I don’t think so. From the bottom of my heart to the top of my brain, I am a horse person. It’s in my DNA, it permeates every action, every thought. The default in my body for some reason is to just. keep. going. I go back and look at the smiles when I’m near them, the look of determination when I’m riding, how I don’t care about frozen fingers while I admire their beauty on a snowy day and I know that I could never not do this. I look at my happy, muddy Beau out in the field and at the tiny, sensitive mare next to him and I know what I have to do. Be strong. Don’t quit. Keep going.