Cut The Word That Sabotages Your Race Mindset

As a coach, I’ve seen athletes train their bodies for months, even years — but when race day pressure hits, it’s their language that decides whether they hold the pace… or let the goal slip away. 

Your words shape your physiology, your decisions, and your resilience under fatigue. And there’s one word that quietly sabotages athletes more than bad pacing, poor fuelling, or lack of training. 

That word is “try.” 

The word that turns tough moments into failure points 

On a marathon course, at the top of Constantia Nek at Two Oceans, or grinding up Inchanga during Comrades, an athlete will often say: 

“I’ll try to hang on.” 
“I’ll try to keep running.” 
“I’ll try to make cutoff.” 

From the outside, it sounds reasonable. But inside the mind, “try” flips a psychological switch. 

“Try” tells the nervous system: 
“Failure is acceptable. We’re preparing to stop.” 

Stride shortens. Posture collapses. Decision-making softens. The athlete starts negotiating instead of competing. 

I’ve watched this happen at 60 km into Comrades, at 85 km of a 100-mile trail race in the dark, and at the final stretch of a marathon — different races, same story. 

“Try” becomes the body’s permission slip to slow down. 

Aid stations are where language makes — or breaks — your race 

Aid stations are truth-tellers. 

Listen carefully to what athletes say there: 

• “I’ll try to eat later.” → Bonk incoming. 

• “I’ll try to run to the next table.” → Walk break loading… 

• “I’ll try to stay with this pack.” → The gap opens, then becomes a canyon. 

But when athletes switch to commitment language, everything changes: 

• “I will take this gel now.” 

• “I will shuffle to the top — no walking until the crest.” 

• “I will reach that next pole before reassessing.” 

Suddenly the body organizes toward action. 
Effort gets direction. 
The mind stops arguing with itself. 

That’s not ego — it’s clarity under fatigue. 

In ultras, “try” becomes a slow leak that drains your race 

In a marathon, “try” costs minutes. 
In Comrades or a 100-miler, it can cost your entire race. 

I’ve seen it unfold mile by mile: 

• “I’ll try to catch up later.” 

• “I’ll try to eat at the next stop.” 

• “I’ll try to start running again soon.” 

By halfway, the athlete isn’t racing anymore — they’re surviving. 

Meanwhile, the athlete who says: 

• “I will power-hike with purpose.” 

• “I will fuel now.” 

• “I will hold this line.” 

…keeps moving forward with intent, even when exhausted. 

The difference isn’t fitness — it’s commitment in language. 

The strongest athletes speak in decisions, not negotiations 

This doesn’t mean ignoring reality. As a coach, I’d rather hear: 

“I can’t safely hold this pace — I will reset and rebuild.” 

than endless “try” statements that blur responsibility. 

• “Will” and “won’t” create ownership. 

• “Try” creates escape routes. 

And ultras punish athletes who leave escape routes open. 

Comrades. Two Oceans. 100-mile trails. Same rule: 

When the race turns into a conversation with yourself… 

• One athlete says, “I’ll try.” 

• The other says, “I will.” 

One opens the door to doubt. 
The other steps through the pain barrier with purpose. 

Your training builds your engine. 
Your words decide whether you use it. 

So, here’s your challenge as an athlete: 

Over the next training block, remove “I’ll try” from your vocabulary. 

Say “I will,” “I won’t,” or “I’m choosing differently.” 
No middle ground. No half-commitments. 

Because whether it’s a marathon finish, a Bill Rowan at Comrades, a Two Oceans PB, or a 100-mile buckle… 
your breakthrough may begin with a single word.