Why You Should Train in Silence

Since the early 2000s, I've been training in silence and paying attention to my breathing. The benefits are significant:

• A quiet effort quiets the mind.
• Idea generation increases 10-fold.
• Increased body awareness improves execution.
• Synchronized breathing naturally limits intensity; and
• Music becomes caffeine.

The best meditate while they train or climb. This active meditation, while similar to passive meditation, connects thought and action, perception and reaction, instead of segregating components.

—Mark Twight, Extreme Alpinism

A quiet effort quiets the mind.

Twenty years ago, my roommate Kim recommended Body, Mind, & Sport, by John Douillard, who champions nasal breathing, recommending it for all types of exercise.[^Years later while working with Scott Johnston, we recommended nasal breathing as a natural way to stay below aerobic threshold. But we found it only worked reliably for athletes with a well-developed aerobic system—those with less than a 10% gap between aerobic and anaerobic thresholds. Athletes with underdeveloped aerobic systems (usually from too much high-intensity training) could still nasal breathe above AeT. That’s not good.] It sounded a bit woo-woo, but I gave it a shot.

On an approach to the north side of Mt. Robson, I hiked in with a friend that is notoriously hyper and chatty. I mentioned the nasal breathing to him, and we both tried it.

"How'd it go?" Kim asked when I got back.
"We failed. But I mentioned the nasal thing, and he was quiet for two hours."
"What? No way..."

Idea generation increases ten-fold.

The idea of having your "best ideas in the shower" is a common one, as it is with any borderline-boring, low-stimulation environment like staring out a bus window. Our default mode network gets switched on and starts connecting the dots between thought and experience.

But showers only last 10 minutes—unless you're a teenager—and bus rides are rare. And even if you shower every day, 10 minutes a day is only 61 hours per year. But if you train in silence, the rate and volume of idea generation is significantly higher.

Not only does the DMN switch on, but higher-than-resting heart rates seem to turbo-charge its processing. Rather than 61 hours per year at a resting rate in the shower, you have hundreds of hours per year at a higher rate.

And as an added benefit, training at a DMN-friendly intensity 95% of the time is exactly what you need to build a strong aerobic base.

Increased body awareness improves execution.

I used to be a heel-striker. It was normal, and I never thought anything of it. But after watching a technique video by Bobby McGee, I decided to try and change my running form.

It took a couple of seasons—and a lot of patience—for my calves to adjust to mid-foot striking, but now I can't imagine running any other way.

(Try this: Walk down a flight of stairs normally. Notice how little impact there is. Now do it again, pulling your toes up to heel strike. Awful, right?)

When I started skimo racing, my transitions were hella slow. Others would enter and exit a transition zone before me, even if I arrived first. But by practicing slowly in silence and focusing on every movement, my transitions are now very competitive. (Every racer can have fast transitions if you practice).

Synchronized breathing naturally limits intensity.

Over the last twenty years, I've become familiar enough with my breathing that I know what intensity I'm at just by [tracking my respiration alongside my cadence](link to poor man's power meter).[^I still wear a heart rate monitor so that I don't delude myself with RPE, but the main driver of intensity for 90% of my training is ventilation.]

Ventilation is a more real-time measure of intensity than heart rate, so if I'm running at a 4-in, 4-out ventilation rate, I know that I'm in Zone 1. Or if skinning uphill at 2-in, 2-out, I know that I'm in Zone 2. Or in an uphill race at 1-in, 1-out, I know I'm near anaerobic threshold and have a little more headroom to attack-defend or let it all out at the finish.

Music becomes caffeine.

Training in silence increases the benefit from infrequent, external motivators.

Increasing the association between effort and fatigue[^"In a study on triathletes ... the higher pain tolerance was related to higher associative coping skills and lower dissociative skills." (The Science of Running, Steve Magness)] also sensitizes me to dissassociative tools. So instead of being dependent on any external supports—like someone that needs coffee in the morning just to get to baseline—motivators like music feel incredible when I use them.

Instead of craving the distraction of a podcast to endure every long session, silence is the norm. Instead of being dependent on music to get up to speed, it acts as rocket fuel when I need it.

Try it.

For the next month, train in silence in all easy sessions. (You might need that long to get comfortable with it.)

1. Turn off all notifications. (And do so every training session, forever.)
2. Ignore the boredom, or better yet, immerse yourself in it.
3. Synchronize your breathing and cadence.
4. Let your mind wander. Can't? Slow down.
5. Observe your movement patterns. What could you improve?