This happened to me recently.

I was sitting in my car, parked in a lot, waiting for someone. I wasn’t moving—just sitting there, engine off, taking a breath. Then the car next to me started to back out.

And for a second, it felt like I was moving.

My foot instinctively tapped the brake. That quick jolt of panic—thinking I was rolling when I wasn’t—took over. Of course, I wasn’t going anywhere. But it sure felt like it.

There’s actually a name for that: vection.

I first learned about it back in engineering school at Georgia Tech, especially in aerospace courses. Vection is when your brain senses motion, even though your body is still. It’s a common challenge when designing flight simulators—if you move the visuals but don’t give the person inside other reference points, their brain gets tricked into thinking they’re flying, turning, or falling.

To fix that, engineers add visual anchors: a horizon line, cockpit instruments, small cues that help your brain stay oriented.

And the same thing can happen in running.

There are times when you’re doing exactly what you should be doing—resting, recovering, holding steady. But then you see someone else training hard. Hitting a PR. Racing every weekend. And even if you’re parked in the right place, it can feel like you’re falling behind.

You’re not.

You’re just experiencing a little vection. And the way through it is the same: steady your view. Remind yourself where you are going. Use your own markers—your goals, your plan, your purpose—as your reference points.

Stillness isn’t sliding backward. It’s just a different kind of motion—quiet, intentional, and necessary.