[mental] Self-Talk in endurance: does talking to yourself actually work?
“Come on, one more kilometer.”
“Breathe, slow down, manage your pace.”
“You trained for this.”
I do not know about you, but I talk to myself every time I run (and not only when running). Sometimes out loud, more often silently, especially if there are people around (so as not to look completely deranged). In sport psychology, this inner dialogue is called self-talk. And contrary to what you might imagine, it directly affects how you experience effort.
This article continues my exploration of the mental side of endurance. If you have read the previous pieces, you know that RPE (perceived exertion) is a key lever for managing an ultra. That is precisely where self-talk can make a difference.
Self-talk: what are we talking about?
Self-talk is everything you say to yourself, silently or out loud, during effort, on the start line, on the trail. It can be encouragements, technical cues, doubts, self-criticism, or phrases repeated like mantras.
Three forms are distinguished in the literature (Weinberg & Gould, 2019):
Motivational self-talk is broad, oriented toward energy and persistence. “Keep going.” “You can do this.” “One step at a time.” You are suffering, but you need to stay engaged in the effort.
Instructional self-talk is more specific, oriented toward technique and execution. “Relax your shoulders.” “Shorten your stride.” “Breathe from the belly.” “You’re going too fast, you’ll blow up.” It helps redirect attention to a specific motor pattern or pacing strategy, perhaps something worked on in training, alone or with a coach.
And then there is negative self-talk: self-critical, discouraging, and generally unhelpful. “You’re too slow.” “You should never have signed up.” “You just got overtaken by an 87-year-old dressed as a dinosaur.” It shows up easily when you are tired, hurting, and start blaming yourself.
The reference study: Blanchfield et al. (2014)
In 2014, a team published in Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise what remains the cleanest experimental study on this topic. The protocol: 24 participants perform two cycling tests to exhaustion at 80% of peak power, two weeks apart. Between the two, half receive a short motivational self-talk intervention. The other half serve as controls.
Result: the self-talk group lasted longer before giving up. And crucially, at mid-effort they reported lower RPE. The effort felt less hard.
The most striking finding: the standard physiological markers (heart rate, VO2) did not differ between groups. Self-talk did not make the “engine” more efficient. It changed how the brain read the fatigue signal.
This fits perfectly with Marcora’s psychobiological model, discussed in the Central Governor article: fatigue is not only a physical limit; it is also a perception. And that perception can shift.
Motivational or instructional: which to choose?
A meta-analysis by Hatzigeorgiadis et al. (2011), covering 32 studies, found that instructional self-talk works better for tasks requiring precision and coordination, while motivational self-talk is better suited to endurance, strength, and sustained efforts.
In trail running, this translates directly. When you are on a technical descent with wet rocks, you are not saying “Come on, you legend, you’re the best”. You are more likely saying “Watch out, not the time to fall. Knees bent, short steps, eyes ahead.” Conversely, at kilometer 120 of an ultra, at 3 AM, with hours of mountain still ahead, technical instructions alone are not enough. There, you mostly need something that keeps you in the game.
Wallace et al. (2017) showed that motivational self-talk can be particularly useful in the heat, because perceived exertion rises faster than usual under thermal stress. A race on a hot day falls squarely into this category.
A surprising detail: “you” beats “I”
Hardy et al. (2019) compared two ways of phrasing self-talk: first person (“I can do this”) and second person (“You can do this”). Participants who used “you” completed a cycling time trial faster, with higher power output, without feeling they were pushing harder.
The proposed explanation: using “you” creates a slight psychological distance, like self-coaching. You put a bit of space between yourself and the doubt or anxiety.
I do not know how well this holds up over very long efforts, and the evidence is still limited. But it is worth keeping in mind, especially if you tend to be harsh with yourself during a race.
What about ultras?
The closest study to what we do in trail is McCormick et al. (2018). They examined the impact of motivational self-talk on runners during a 60-mile (approximately 97 km) ultramarathon, run at night.
On the performance side: no significant improvement in finish time. The sample was small (29 runners), and on that kind of race, individual conditions vary enormously. Hard to draw a clear conclusion.
But the most interesting part came from participant follow-ups six months later: most said they continued using self-talk, primarily to manage exhaustion, pain (blisters, muscle fatigue), and difficult weather. Many found the tool genuinely useful for “hanging in there.”
Admittedly, not a spectacular result. And it sounds a lot like what we experience in practice: the real challenge on an ultra is often not “going faster” but finding a way to keep going, whatever it takes.
And negative self-talk?
During a race, much of what you say to yourself arrives on autopilot, and it is not always encouraging. You start hurting and suddenly you are flooded with negative thoughts.
Borrajo et al. (2024) investigated negative self-talk in runners. They found it goes hand in hand with higher perceived stress and is associated with poorer performance.
The practical takeaway is learning to know yourself in those moments: noticing your habits, what you say to yourself, and when. This prevents negative thoughts from taking over without you even noticing. A bit like the advice in meditation: a negative thought appears? Fine, notice it, let it pass.
“[I]dentifying the stressors that may appear during training and/or competitions, as well as analyzing the emotions that may appear in the face of these stressors, would enhance runners’ ability to reduce the negative messages they receive.” (Borrajo et al., 2024, p. 5)
What I actually do with this
I am not a sport psychologist, and I do not apply self-talk in a structured way like in a study. But here is what I have noticed in my own practice.
On long training runs, I let things come naturally. If the internal monologue turns clearly negative, I start by asking what is going on physically before trying to “fix” it only with mental tools. It is interesting to step into observer mode.
On technical sections (steep descents, changing terrain), I often switch to instructional mode without thinking about it. Phrases come out on their own: “look ahead,” “relax the arms.” Not an elaborate strategy. Just attention putting itself into words.
In the really hard moments, especially at night, I have a few short phrases that do not pretend everything is fine but help me stay hooked: “you’ve handled worse,” “one aid station at a time,” “it’s normal for this to be hard right now,” and often “you trained for this.” In every case, the point is not to deny the difficulty. It is to accept it and manage it.
If I had to sum it up
Self-talk is not a magic wand. It can help lower perceived exertion and keep you engaged, especially motivational self-talk on long efforts. But the effect depends on context, intensity, and probably on each person’s capacity to maintain voluntary attention when fatigue sets in.
What I take away most is that during a race, what you say to yourself is not neutral. It influences how the brain judges the difficulty. And since you are talking to yourself anyway, you might as well have some idea of what you are saying.
Next time you are in a rough patch and you hear yourself thinking “I can’t take this anymore,” ask yourself one question: is that reliable information about the state of your body, or is your brain making too much out of normal fatigue?
References
- Blanchfield, A. W., Hardy, J., de Morree, H. M., Staiano, W., & Marcora, S. M. (2014). Talking yourself out of exhaustion: the effects of self-talk on endurance performance. Med. Sci. Sports Exerc., 46(5), 998-1007. DOI: 10.1249/MSS.0000000000000184
- Hatzigeorgiadis, A., Zourbanos, N., Galanis, E., & Theodorakis, Y. (2011). Self-talk and sports performance: A meta-analysis. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 6(4), 348-356. DOI: 10.1177/1745691611413136
- Hardy, J., Watt, A. P., & Oliver, E. (2019). What’s in a pronoun: personal and transpersonal self-talk. Journal of Applied Sport Psychology, 31(2), 219-232. DOI: 10.1080/10413200.2018.1481066
- McCormick, A., Meijen, C., & Marcora, S. (2018). Effects of a motivational self-talk intervention for endurance athletes completing an ultramarathon. The Sport Psychologist, 32(1), 42-50. DOI: 10.1123/tsp.2017-0018
- Wallace, P. J., et al. (2017). Effects of motivational self-talk on endurance and cognitive performance in the heat. Med. Sci. Sports Exerc., 49(1), 191-199. DOI: 10.1249/MSS.0000000000001087
- Borrajo, E., Calvete, E., & Urquijo, I. (2024). Negative self-talk in runners: Emotional intelligence and perceived stress as explanatory factors. Psychology of Sport and Exercise, 70, 102545. DOI: 10.1016/j.psychsport.2023.102545
- Weinberg, R. S., & Gould, D. (2019). Foundations of Sport and Exercise Psychology (7th ed.). Human Kinetics.
Disclaimer: I am a research engineer, not a sports psychologist. What you read here is the logbook of a curious trail runner who enjoys digging into the science behind effort. The references are there so you can check for yourself.