Marathon Training: Running's "Rubik's Cube"

The marathon is the "Rubik's Cube" of running.  You can pull one right out of the container that's in perfect condition, and no sooner than you start to screw around with it you end up making things a mess.  One that's almost impossible to return back to the original state.  A runner who takes up the idea of doing a marathon without at least four years of (preferably injury-free!) training and racing of distances up to the half-marathon is asking to twist the bejeezus out of a brand-new Rubik's Cube.

The hardest part is not doing the training that's necessary to prepare for that day of 26.21876 miles, it's doing the training without becoming injured.  Most of the published marathon training plans have long runs of up to 22 miles.  Some longer.  And most written for a general population.  Look at a plan written by coaches in areas where the metric system reigns supreme and you'll find the longest run is 30 kilometers (18.641136 miles).  When laid up against the 50-mile or 80-kilometer week, that single long run will take up half of the training mileage (and possibly more than half of the time) spent training.  I'm more of a fan of spreading the mileage (50-to-60 miles) out throughout the week, with the longest run of the week around 16 miles, or 26 kilometers, a distance which can be covered by most trained runners in 2.5 hours or less.

Even then, there are runners who don't have large chunks of time to spare in their life.  They can manage to squirrel away 8-to-10 hours during the early morning or later evening.  Some ask if it's better to get the week's mileage in large chunks, say a long run of 12-to-16 miles on the weekend, and runs of 8-to-10 miles during the rest of the week.  While there are some physiological benefits to pushing a 60-to-90 minute run one additional day of the week, the risk of injury increases as the runner goes out for longer duration sessions...especially as you approach that 2.5-hour mark.  Add to that the amount of time it takes to recover either at home or at work and running "singles" may be a more-hazardous endeavor than first thought. 

And what happens if there's a family visitor or a social function going on that cuts into that (for example) 90-minute planned run on the schedule?  My take is that a shorter run of good quality is better than cutting short that planned longer effort and feeling guilty about the whole thing.  I like splitting runs, both between morning and evening, and between evening and the following morning.  Sure, you're decreasing the amount of time the body has for recovery, often by as much as one-half, but you're also decreasing the amount of time you're out on the run.  And if something comes up on the social schedule it's not a complete disaster. 

When it comes to the "long run" on the training schedule, not only do I split the run between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, I borrow a race execution strategy from a fellow coach, Patrick McCrann.  I have the athlete run the Saturday "half" of the long run at the pace they'll run for the first six miles of the marathon.  Then, on Sunday morning, I have them run the assigned distance, half at the pace we planned for the middle third of the marathon, half at the goal pace for the final ten kilometers of the race.  It's more difficult for the athlete to execute the paces because they've done so much quality work from the previous Tuesday afternoon forward they're pushing five or six miles on legs that have accumulated fatigue...no different than the feeling they'll have on race day.  But, they also won't be running as much during the last weeks leading into the race.

During the week, at least on the days when I haven't scheduled a particular intensity, I'm only concerned about the day's duration, which can range anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes.  Anything beyond that is gravy.  And it's important to recover and rest during those times in between runs; if lawn mowing or an extended house maintenance session is planned during the day it's probably better to get the run out of the way early in the day.

There may be a need for doing one or two runs of two hours during marathon training, but the fatigue accumulated through several days of quality work during the week can mitigate the need for a whole lot of them.  There's a solution to the "Rubik's Cube" that is the marathon, the challenge is figuring out what jumbled it all in the first place.

A Different "Army-Navy" Game

Since 2005, I've worked the technical side of running events, laying out and measuring road courses and doing grunt work for triathlon events.  I used to tout them in a 'matter-of-fact' fashion, but nowadays my signature block says, "extensive list of worthless certifications available upon request."  Most of the "worthless certifications" were the result of participating in enough running events to think, after the second beer, then say out loud "I could put on one of these."  

One of my favorite Clint Eastwood lines did not come during the most recent election cycle, but during his 1973 movie, "Magnum Force," where he says..."a man's got to know his limitations."  After one-too-many afternoons picking up aid station coolers and driving the sag vehicle while the event director was drinking beer with the athletes I went back to the technical support side of the running world.  Back to maps, paperwork, phone calls and e-mail from first-year event directors, and looking at the good, the bad, and the ugly of road races.

In the last month I participated in the behind-the-scenes details of two events; a 5K put on by the Chief Petty Officers Association, and a 5K/10K put on by the Special Forces Association.  So, this comparison of good, bad and ugly is a different version of last weekend's Army-Navy game.

Army-Navy has always been special for my family.  In the football-(sub?)conscious Deep South, team loyalty often has little to do with the school they matriculated (I went to a Division-II school.).  The Bowens and their extensions up and down the family tree have almost all been Navy people; my Uncle Billy (Renn) and I the only ones to serve outside of the Sea Service.  (My friend Chuck, a retired Navy Chief, reminds me I've served longer as a Navy civilian than Air Force enlisted.)  

We've all got a short list of what makes a running event stand out from its contemporaries.  My coach, Dale Fox, used to tell stories of runners who would drive to several race locations each Saturday and Sunday morning in the hope of picking up overall hardware...and a hundred bucks.  They knew the pecking order, and would look for the vehicles of athletes they could beat, and those they couldn't.  When I ask experienced racers the things they use to choose one road race over another, most will mention the course, the pre-and-post-race experience, the awards, and the shirt.

Course - Some runners like a scenic course.  Most racers want an accurate distance.  All want to be safe.  ARMY: The 10K was measured for certification after a course change.  However, the race director moved the start point 100 yards.  5K distance not measured for certification after course change.  Both courses had entire lanes of roadway and crossed twice over a bridge.  No intermediate split markers or split timers.  NAVY: Certified 5K course, which had cones laid down the center of two-lane secondary roads and a single lane of a major road.  Split markers and a split timer at the first mile.

Play-by-play:  Army wins toss, elects to receive.  Penalties stymie initial Army drive; settle for field goal.  Navy takes long grinding drive and scores.

SCORE - ARMY 3 - NAVY 7

Post-race - Entertainment, food and beverages; doesn't have to be a full spread, but you got to keep the runners happy until the results are ready.  ARMY:  There was some issue with the keg which never was resolved, but there was cold canned beer, as well as water, fruit, barbecue, live music, and free massages for race participants.  NAVY:  Old bagels, water and fruit.  And an iPod with tunes from back when I was in high school.  I like Journey, Foreigner and Fleetwood Mac, but I'm certain the younger participants would have preferred newer stuff.

Play-by-play:  Army quick-strikes for touchdown, point-after attempt hits right goalpost.  Scores a safety on ensuing kickoff.  

SCORE: ARMY 11 - NAVY 7

Awards - Age-group and overall awards should be both meaningful and of good-quality.  Something you'd post on your "I love me" wall.  ARMY:  Carved wood SFA7 logos all over the place.  Five-year age groups, overall, masters, grandmasters, etc.  Someone inhaled a lot of sawdust.  NAVY:  Ten-year age group (I finish as first runner over age 50 -- heck, age 40 -- and receive first in 50-59 age group) medals; overall male/female, oldest/youngest runners receive painted oars.

Play-by-play:  Good field position leads to Army ball control drive, scores touchdown but leaves Navy time for one more short drive.  Navy scores field goal to close out first half.

SCORE: ARMY 18 - NAVY 10

Shirt - great race shirts are advertising for future events.  Lousy race shirts are car wash fodder.  ARMY:  Black, short-sleeved cotton-technical blend shirt with SFA7 logo and original (contest-designed) artwork on front, sponsors on back.  NAVY:  White long-sleeved cotton shirt with small dog-tag logo on front, sponsors on back, several names misspelled.

Play-by-play:  Navy receives second-half kickoff.  Three-and-outs lead to poor field position for Navy; punt blocked out of end-zone.

SCORE:  ARMY 27 - NAVY 10 

Cause - Runners will support a race for a cause they can support.  ARMY:  Scholarships for children of soldiers killed in action.  Marketing in social media, on-line registration sites, local running clubs.  NAVY:  Rewards leading to prosecution of person/persons who shot and killed an active-duty sailor.  Marketing nearly nonexistent outside of on-line registration; single flyer seen at base bowling alley day before event.  

Play-by-play:  Good field position following Navy kick; return to ball control drive and Army touchdown.

SCORE:  ARMY 34 - NAVY 10

Intangibles - These are the little things which could fall under the overall race experience, but someone is going to point them out to you the week after as you're busy patting yourself on the back.  ARMY:  When I go into the Starbucks around the corner (as an event non-participant) and the racers are there in a line for the bathroom.  

Barista: "Can I do anything else for you, sir?" 

Me: "Get rid of the line in front of the bathroom?"  

Public bathrooms could only handle two men/ladies at a time...1,500 people might have been a little too much.  NAVY:  Porta-johns, about a dozen, for 200 people.  I'm certain they were hoping for closer to 600, but that goes back to the marketing thing.  ARMY:  Race director/staff are/were Special Forces officers and enlisted.  These guys know how to plan, adapt, improvise and overcome obstacles.  NAVY:  Chief Petty Officers, most of whom were/are members of the "three-mile-a-year" club, sans racing experience.

Play-by-play:  And the hits keep on coming.  Army grinds out one more long drive for a touchdown, but leaves enough time on the clock for Navy to kick a desultory field goal and warm up their lungs to sing "Navy Blue and Gold" first...for the first time in about 11 years.

If you're a race director, or you aspire to be one, perhaps some of these observations will save you a couple of wrongly-spent dollars and a couple of nightmares.

If you call me, however, I won't be available.  At least until race day.

Doing Business That Makes Me Smile

“…So why didn’t you run the race this morning?”

Barb, my friend, posted this message on my Facebook wall, which I read minutes after coming home from a two-hour trail trek. Since the questioner is a close friend, dignifying the query with an answer was almost mandatory. “I had a commitment which had to be honored. Suzanne’s not here to support me. Besides that, I’m not in racing shape.”

Barb’s response came back while I was cleaning up: “You could have run the 5K.”

“No. I could not. What needed to be done, needed to be done at 9:00. Besides, I don’t race unless I feel ready to race.”

One of the things an overuse injury does, once a runner can run again, is encourage a focus on quality. Junk mileage, miles for mileage sake, miles to impress ones’ fellow runners; all that egomania gets kicked to the curb. Quality workouts come to the fore. Rest and recovery become important. Races transform into as much of a celebratory event as a test of heart.

After fifty-plus weeks of progress from no running, to twenty minutes, thirty, forty-five, and right at the edge of sixty minutes five or six times a week, I HAVE to keep running fun.

I recently downloaded a copy of Christopher McDougall’s 2009 book, “Born To Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen,” for a number of reasons. I’ve slammed barefoot running as a sort of snake oil fix, and I wanted to read straight from the source material many barefoot running enthusiasts cite as their inspiration. (My suspicion is many barefoot zealots choose to go buffet-style rather than accept the entire menu.) But before I use the broad brush to paint a Picasso-like mural of barefoot true believers, I figured I’d hear the man out. As Bob Dylan once sang: “…don’t criticize what you can’t understand.”

I read through the first hundred pages or so without difficulty. Reading “Born To Run” probably won’t fill you with the compulsion to throw out your Asics Cumulus altogether, or replace them with a pair of Fila Skele-Toes.

Or perhaps it might.

But it’s a very fun read into the mindset of a couple of cultures so different from our own, that of the Tarahumara of Mexico’s Copper Canyon, and that of the ultra-runner.

So, why do people run barefoot? Why do they run ultras? Why do my grandkids love to run and play? What caught my attention in the first hundred pages or so is McDougall’s discussion of famed distance running coach Joe Vigil’s observations of the Tarahumara during the Leadville 100 trail ultramarathon in the 1990s:

“…the real secret of the Tarahumara…(they) remembered that running was mankind's first fine art, our original act of inspired creation….perfecting the art of combining…breath and mind and muscles into fluid self-propulsion over wild terrain.…You had to love running, or you wouldn't live to love anything else. And like everything else we love—everything we sentimentally call our "passions" and "desires"—it's really an encoded ancestral necessity. We were born to run; we were born because we run. We're all Running People, as the Tarahumara have always known.”

If nothing else, what I’ve learned so far from McDougall, from Vigil, from the Tarahumara - and from the guys who spend their Saturday mornings on the wooded trails, miles from the nearest 5K road race, is that running is art. Stephen Stills sang, “I don’t do business that don’t make me smile.” While I understand there are many of my friends who are driven by the pursuit of beer glasses and applause of companions, but if “breath and mind and muscles in fluid self-propulsion” doesn’t bring a smile to our face, we might as well forego the application paperwork and the cotton t-shirt and hand our $25 to the beer vendor.

If it isn’t fun, why do it?

Horses For Courses - The Right Music For The Run

Not a week after we returned from Singapore, my second iPod Touch went on to it's eternal reward. Apple, in their infinite wisdom(?) decreed the cause of "death" to be immersion or exposure to fluid. I unsuccessfully tried to explain I live in a part of the country where humidity is a way of life. The only way to NOT expose electronics to fluid is to hermetically seal it within a plastic casing, like the DryCase I reviewed months back. The positive of the DryCase sealing technology was countered by its size. I could easily carry the iPod Touch in a knitted pouch hung around my neck, access the on/off/volume controls, and so on. I didn't run with the iPod in Singapore because I forgot to take the DryCase along. Somehow the exposure happened. Nothing else can be done without spending a lot of money to repair the iPod.


So, I'm back to running without music.


It's a blessing and a curse. Running with music naturally provide mental stimulation, and allows runners to dissociate - tune out - the messages which often try to slow down or stop them on a run. For me, running without music - especially in the morning - provided the chance to tune in to bird songs, watch clouds move, and pay close(r) attention to my immediate surroundings. There are times it's nice to not have any distractions blaring into your head.


The first "non-musical" treadmill run, however, found me grooving voluntarily to a John Mayer tune in the back of my mind. I recalled entire albums of music from memory before on road runs, because Walkmans were heavier and had lousy battery life.

Running author Hal Higdon mentioned in social media posts the favorite pieces of music he would listen to during treadmill workouts. Higdon liked classical music, including Beethoven and Tchaikovsky. "Horses for courses," triathlon coach Brett Sutton would say, while it works for Hal, I think I'll avoid the 1812 Overture and the climactic cannonade...at least on the treadmill. We all have our own personal tastes. And, as I used to tell my students, "there is no such thing as bad music."


So, what's the best kind of music to listen to when running?


An English sports psychologist studied the effects of musical performance, and considered tempo to be everything. In his opinion, most commercial dance tunes and rock music seemed to fit best, having a tempo which ranged from 120-to-140 beats per minute. Music professors, fitness buffs and medical professionals seem to agree a tempo which aligns with specific workout motions is the best for the activity.


When I think about the music I've "channeled" during some of my best races, it falls into the 120-to-125 beat-per-minute range. My best long runs, however, are in the 160-to-180 (or 80-to-90) beat range. Of course, good grooves are everything. Punk and hard rock - styles which often make a concerted effort to break the "comfortable" groove - are probably the least desirable genres for running.


Ah, but horses for courses.


There are a variety of sites on-line where you can find new music at a desired tempo; other sites allow you to find old favorites or in different genres. There are also great workout podcasts available for download, with music mixed to a particular tempo. One site I'll send some love out to is http://www.djsteveboy.com/. Steve Boyett has several mix podcasts which are among the iTunes Store's top downloads. His Podrunner casts feature many independent and out-of-the-box musicians, mixed at tempos ranging from 120 to 180. The most recent series has tempo progressions which mimic pyramid and tempo workouts...all of them are around 60 minutes and include warm-up and cool-down segments.

Making the treadmill workout a little less dull can take some time and effort on the part of the individual runner. There are tempo-defining programs which can help catalog the runner's music collection, or the workout at a particular pace can be downloaded from the internet.

And the "horse," when matched to the right "course," can make an hour's treadmiling less...boring.

The Privilege of Coaching

When Suzanne or I mention the term "grandparent" in a casual conversation, especially when talking with new friends, many are shocked because neither of us look like we're in our fifties (more or less). I've approached grandparenting with much less fear than I had at the prospect of parenting. No children for me, thanks. A playback of my youth and adolescence, but standing on the other side of the stage? Given a choice between re-living the period between 1975 and 1981, and shoving a sharp stick in my eye; the sharp stick wins.

After the "am I really going to be okay at this?" feelings passed, I found that I do like grandparenting. It doesn't mean I'm perfect at it; there are things which still get under my skin. The benefit-to-drawback ratio for this role is, compared to my opinon of parenting, so far, much higher. The roles of nurturer, disciplinarian and role model, which are part and parcel of parenting, are augmented with a little bit of Santa Claus. Our grandchildren are young enough to still depend on either their mom and dad or us, but old enough to have personality and a sliver of insight, sometimes more than for which we provide them credit. Recently, my eldest granddaughter, said something that will ensure she can (almost) do no wrong in this ol' coach's eyes. Who knew a five-year-old would know Bob Marley?

The relationships of adolescence, adulthood, and the advance from child (to parent, usually,,,) to grandparent, and the analogies which may relate to the relationship between athlete and coach kind of leaped out at me as I was on my morning run.

As an athlete I often saw the athlete-coach relationship from the child-to-parent perspective: I do what my coach says, for better or for worse. I may, or may not, have a voice in the equation. And, if I decide to leave "home" after a time it's all on my own head.

However, as a coach, I find the perspective is not as much like parent as grandparent. There may be coaches who have complete and total control over their athletes, but those relationships are either unhealthy or the coach also serves as parent; coaching family members has pitfalls of which I will not go into detail here.

Regardless of whether we see the relationship between athlete and coach as "parental" or "grandparental" in nature, the coach has to be a reliable role model. Dedication, loyalty, work ethic, healthy lifestyle decisions; all these have to be modeled. I'd love to crack open a couple of brewskies, get rowdy and watch mixed martial arts on the television when the grandchildren are visiting but it would (probably!) be more acceptable to turn on National Geographic Channel or put a G-rated movie on the DVD player. Overtraining, overracing, or sloughing off a Tuesday night workout for no apparent reason other than there was something good on the tube are not decisions which will keep athletes on the training plan I draft, or eventually as part of the training group.

Those positive behaviors are modeled because of the privilege, not the right, of the individual to be a coach. It's the same reason I (try to) behave myself in the presence of my grandchildren; their visits are a privilege bestowed by the parents, not a right I can enforce without a high-powered lawyer. And why would I want the kids feeling forced to be with me?

So, not only do I need to display the right behavior and be a positive role model, I also have to do it with the utmost sincerity. Most children have highly-tuned "b.s. detectors." To know what a person thinks about what you're doing, take a good long look at their kids. If the child treats you with courtesy, decency and respect you can be certain that's the way the parents feel about what you're doing.

The only proof of success comes down the road when the "kids" go out to do their own thing. If they replicate the good behaviors we model and overlook the bad ones then we can consider ourselves to be a small factor in their success.

No Shortcuts For You! Or Me, For That Matter...

I had the opportunity to meet some young professional runners and their coach about five years ago. They came to run the USATF 10K road race championships in Mobile and took the opportunity to do a meet and greet at our friendly neighborhood running emporium. There was a shy, dark-haired young woman sitting with the rest of her training group; she quietly answered a few questions during the discussion, but really did not seem to stand out in the crowd. Five years later, she finishes second at the Boston Marathon and runs the best time by an American woman on the Boston course (2:22:38).

Desiree Davila. 'Who'dathunkit?' I bet not even your coaches, Keith and Kevin Hanson, 'woulda.'

I love what she had to say about her progress from "average" runner to finishing second at one of the most prestigious road races in the world (The two most common questions non-runners ask of runners: Have you run a marathon? Have you run Boston?). "Everything has been one step at a time, you don't have to be great tomorrow..." Besides patient progress, Davila benefited from financial support, group training and the training methods of the brothers Hanson.

There are no shortcuts. There are no "silver bullets," "magic potions," or "miracle devices;" no "make you healthier and faster in 90 days or your money back" zippy mind tricks to being a good - or a great - runner. There are no fallbacks, no substitutions.

There is no bar or beverage at the local sports nutrition store which can replace adequate rest and recovery. There is no shoe at the local running emporium which can make up for a runner's refusal to learn good running form and proper cadence. There is no book on-line or on the shelves of the local bookstore which can provide the advice and counsel of a coach. There is no training plan in existence which can safely take us from running 20 minutes a day, three times a week to running a marathon in 16 weeks. None of these things happen without slow, patient progress. We have to crawl before we can walk, walk before we can jog, and jog before we can run.

Mental toughness and physiological change takes time and patience, which is not the stuff we can pay our way through with money, no matter what people who write training books - and coaching blogs, for that matter - have to say.

Tomorrow Ain't As Bad As It Seems

"...the good old days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems." -- Billy Joel, "Keeping The Faith" (1983)

So, I was running along the perimeter of the local airport with one of my athletes and my wife the other day (we passed my wife about five minutes earlier, but that's par for the course). As always, conversations of substance begin once runners get past that "oh, God, this kind of bites" feeling (usually during the first mile or so) and into the rhythm of the run.

The morning topic happened to touch upon age, aging, and most specifically, aging up into a new running age bracket. Deena, my "poster child" athlete of the moment, feels compelled to take her newly-found running strength and go "dominate the dojo." While she's not the best in her age bracket, she's become very good and will probably put a scare into the one or two gals who are better than she. Deena says she wants to see whether she can run better times at some 10K races she ran in the past, before she doesn't have the speed at her disposal. Of course, she feels concerned because she thinks she won't improve or maintain her fitness over the next couple of years.

Naturally, my job as her coach is to make sure she stays healthy in order to meet the big running milestones of her life, which right now means next year's Boston Marathon. I'm not used to thinking about training plans in time frames of longer than six months; most of my athletes to this point (in my experience as coach) haven't elaborated as specifically on their goal events as this recent crop.

Aging is an inevitable outcome. When you consider the thoroughly unsavory alternative to aging, it does seem fairly acceptable. Some people, like my wife, approach it with no small amount of grace and humor. Other persons, like me, vary in degrees of kicking and screaming, especially when we observe the ways (running the gamut from hair dye to needless surgical procedures) our fellow humans try to ignore or turn back the clock.

One of my dear friends, Ruben, has a high running pedigree; a contemporary of Frank Shorter, Jack Bacheler, Jeff Galloway, Benji Durden, Jerry Slaven, Barry Brown, et. al., during the glory days of the Florida Track Club three decades ago. Hang out with him after a road race, even when you've had a bad day, and there's no doubt you will feel much better about yourself, even before the first beer is drained. Ruben always has a kind word about every participant's performance, and seems to know exactly where the silver lining hides within the darkest of clouds. When a guy has genuinely endured what John L. Parker Jr. called "the trial of miles," raced at national championships and Olympic Trials, I guess everything else could be considered a bit of a letdown. If there's a man who has the right to play the self-pitying "I used to run this distance in..." card, it's Ruben. He's more likely to tell you a story about holding hands with a fellow runner because neither guy wanted to let the other lose. I used to think Coach Slaven was kidding when he would tell those tales after our morning runs. After meeting Ruben I knew they were all true.

Sometimes the hardest part of moving forward is knowing what to do with the past. Perhaps the best thing to do is the running equivalent of Baz Luhrman's advice in "Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen:" Keep your old love letters. Throw out your old bank statements.

It's the feelings, more than the numbers, that matter when it comes to running...especially as we become more seasoned.

Coach Don Corleone Meets Coach Donna Reed

I recently wrote about the need for honesty between athlete & coach. Really, the relationship between athlete & coach is not much different than between friends, family members or lovers. Honest interaction is essential. Nobody wants to associate with a dishonest person, even if they are blood relatives...some families are more rigid about honest & ethical behavior than others. But sometimes, even in the tightest of families, small variances may - & often do - exist.

My father & my (late) uncle both worked for many years in law enforcement, encountering many of my contemporaries during their late adolescence & on into adulthood...occasionally I heard the "war stories" from my father; sometimes I heard them from my buddies. While my father & my uncle both worked to enforce the law, they differed in one aspect: My uncle was a "black-and-white" kind of person, whereas my father often saw in shades of gray...at least until the vulgarities began to fly.I know they disagreed on many fronts during their time together in this existence, but there still was a clearly understood truth: They were definitely family.

I have to (sheepishly) admit I lean more toward my uncle's "black-and-white" worldview when it comes to the issue of honest communication between athlete & coach. The "shades of gray" side I picked up from my father comes to the fore when I look at approaches to training; some come out a tad more gray than others. But, since every athlete is an experiment of one, the training approaches are gray none the less. So, what is the goal of a coach? During a discussion between three well-known triathlon coaches in the summer of 2007, one considered the goal of a coach to "enable athletes to make decisions for themselves." The three considered the ideal coaching scenario to serve in an active, hands-on role in training the athlete for one year. After a year, the athlete could work more on their own. The coach would then serve as a support rather than a crutch.

I like the idea of being a hands-off coach for an athlete after a year or two. But, like almost every other idea, it's not quite so smooth or comfortable when the reality arrives. Most people are not good at communicating the "why" when it comes time to leave, mostly because they don't like the conflict or wounded feelings which follow. Makes perfect sense to me; because the departures & separations have been traditionally more permanent than temporal I'm the type of person who hates goodbyes of any sort. Even my mother considers me the kind of person who would rather have everyone as my friend. Keep your friends close & your enemies list short.

Every so often I get to listen to what I like to call "Exercises in Conflict Resolution." My wife works as upper management for a small company & often has to deal with uncomfortable business issues. When she tells me her intended response, or drafts a written communication I often advise her to be more like Don (Michael) Corleone (in The Godfather) & less like Donna Reed (in It's A Wonderful Life). Think about how each have dealt with a sticky situation...

Donna Reed: [trapped naked in a bush] Shame on you! I'll tell your mother!
Jimmy Stewart: [thoughtfully] My mother's way up on the corner there.
Reed: I'll call the police.
Stewart: They're way downtown. Anyway, they'd be on my side.



Corleone: Where does it say that you can't kill a cop?
Hagen: Come on, Mikey...
Corleone: Tom, wait a minute....I'm talking about a...crooked cop who got mixed up in the rackets & got what was coming to him....
[Hagen nods]
Corleone: And the newspapers might like a story like that.
Hagen: They might, they just might.
Corleone: [to Sonny] It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business.So, you have the choice of emotionally responding to conflict, and hope the antagonist responds in a rational manner. Or you can emotionally detach yourself from what might be described as an unsavory response to a conflict...


But, clear & honest communication between athlete & coach can head off potential conflicts at the pass. It's strictly business.

"Coach Dog"

...and I'm not talking about Dalmatians, those spotted coach dogs.

On more than one occasion I've lauded the simplicity of lifestyle of my retired racing greyhound-cum-household companion, Rubin. Given his inherent limitations - lack of opposable thumbs, inability to communicate in the English language, and occasional bouts of selective hearing - he's taught me a great deal about how to train, a good amount about how to coach, and a little bit, even, about how to maintain relationships.

Lesson one - consistent lifestyle. Rubin awakens at five o'clock every morning to take care of his immediate needs, determines whether extra rest is necessary, and continues his plan of the day accordingly. I've never heard him complain that he feels guilty about postponing a workout (in his case, a morning walk) in favor of a little extra rest, or deciding to settle for a trot around the back yard in place of a walk in the park. There are cases where his decision leads to a less-than-desirable outcome, but those are few and far between. Sometimes the weather conditions factor in, sometimes what he had for dinner the previous evening, sometimes even the availability of his "training partner." Still, his ability to adapt to the infrequent vicissitudes of greyhound life are a lesson to me.

Lesson two - sometimes a look says enough. Greyhounds are not known for barking unless they perceive a threat, so facial expressions and posture make up for the quiet nature. I've told friends on occasion: 'when an 85-pound greyhound stands between you and the television screen, you listen.' There are a number of different looks I've learned to translate, from the 'gotta go out' stare to the subtle look toward the box of Milk-Bone biscuits sitting atop the refrigerator. He's a tad more physical with Suzanne when she moves through the hall or works in the kitchen; a look with me often works where velcro dog is the preferred means of communication with my wife.

Lesson three - trust never sleeps. Greyhounds have two time contexts: Now, and forever. Really. Any dog owner can tell you. When do dogs want attention, food, walks, pets, ear scratching, belly rubs and the like? Now. How long has it been since the last treat, walk, bit of attention, or your departure from the house? Forever. They trust you're going to do the right thing, all the time; even if you fall short of their expectations (if dogs have expectations...) they still love and honor you.

So, for me? What do I think this means for individuals/athletes?

First - lifestyle consistency cannot be stressed enough. Rest if you're beat up; back off the effort if you're less than beat up, listen to your body and the conditions.

Second - communication between two people in a relationship (even between coach and athlete) is an individual matter. Some prefer lengthy chats a'la James Joyce; others prefer succinctness a'la Ernest Hemingway. No matter how you decide to communicate...

Third - do the right thing...be honest with everybody. It's simpler than trying to remember what story you told to what person.

Thanks, Rubin. Take two Milk-Bones out of petty cash.

The Bow That's Continually Bent...

I vaguely recall a story which ( believe) was written by Eusebius, Origen, or one of the early writers of the Christian Church, about St. John (please keep in mind this is from a text I read back in my former life as an aspiring pastor). (I guess) there was a philosopher who went (in disguise of an outdoorsman/hunter) to visit John later on in his life, & was amazed to find him sitting in relaxation stroking a partridge. He asked John about the frivolity of his present activity, to which John responded with a question of his own. 'I see you have a bow in your hand. Do you always carry it about unstrung?' The philosopher replied, 'yes, if I were to keep it continually strung the tension would weaken the bow & I would be unable to use it to down stronger prey when the time came.'

John replied, 'worry not about my present state of relaxation. As you have rightly said, "the bow that is continually bent will cease to shoot straight."'

So, I guess it's necessary for each of us to take time away from our pursuits in order to recharge, redirect, reevaluate, & sometimes even reacquire a perspective we once had or discarded. The hard part is what I like to call a painfully obvious fact: The more time we have away from working out, training, running, bicycling, swimming, just plain flat-out doing, usually provides us time & opportunity for stoopid things...those things which get us in trouble.

And if you're not careful, you can burn up those spousal approval units during down-time, when you probably should be earning them by doing those quality time things. I've found a few of those QTTs can also provide some much-needed perspective on how other people see us...us being defined as athletes, coaches, & athletic event participants...I guess even athletic event providers can be fit into the definition. And I have to admit the first week or two of I'm not getting up early to... is pretty nice, but after a while it does become a nasty little habit. Sleep, as my wife has told me, is one of her guilty pleasures in life. In the past month I've probably increased my sleep time to nearly ten hours a night, much to my d-a-w-g's displeasure.

But worry not...this is the end of the month & I truly intend to be back on the chain gang.Honestly, it has been nice in many ways. Unfortunately, it also means I've spent lots of time on activities which are simple, but much higher in impact (more running, less cycling or swimming). So my body has really had a tough time adapting to a decreased, but different form of stress.

On top of all that, the temperature has gone not so much through the roof as much as it has increased a minor amount. But, the humidity in our area has definitely gone up. Much harder to breathe when you feel like you need gills. Must scale back effort levels or move indoors for a time. That means more boring. I know many who take the entire summer to unbend their bow. While it might work for them I'd rather loosen the string some rather than take it off completely. That way I'm not looking for the notch when September arrives...believe me, it cannot arrive too soon.

Gurus, Gimmicks, Or Good Ol' One-Foot-In-Front-Of-The-Other Running

Someone asked on the local running club bulletin board the other day if there were any coaches in the area who worked within a particular running program, because his (insert program name here) running needed work. Well, I knew what the program name had to do with outside the realm of running, but little else...so I did what any curious coach-type would do...a brief search on the internet. It did not surprise me much the program had a website, a book, & a couple of DVDs to offer the masses.

DISCLOSURE MOMENT FOLLOWS:

I'd be a bald-faced liar if I said I wouldn't do the same thing - market what (little) I've learned by selling a couple of training e-manuals, how-to e-guides, leading weekend web-based seminars, pay-for-video feeds, & so on (electronic coaching is much less expensive than postage & handling, right?). If you do it right you make a couple of bucks & ride the gravy train for as long as possible. When the train barely makes the last stop because you've run out of "coal," however, it's time to write a new(er) manual & re-market yourself. I looked briefly at the program's focus, it's underlying philosophy, & then saw the opportunity to become a program-certified coach posted on the front of the website. In many cases - this comes from the mouth of a person with a coaching certification - 85 cents & a coaching certificate will get you a cup of coffee at Denny's, if you can get the waitresses attention.

A great deal of what coaches learn which are of genuine value does not come as the result of a two-day or three-day sit-down or semi-hands-on seminar. It comes from a lot of trial and error. Even certified coaches can have a case of the stoopid, especially when it comes to their own training. Coaching doesn't occur in a vacuum, it includes observing how well or poorly an athlete reacts to a training plan, from asking questions of other coaches, & from doing a little bit of solitary research.

If you take the time to purchase the manuals from program coaches, make certain your b.s. detector is turned on. An essay by Steve Myrland, posted on traintoplay.com, titled Guru-ism and the Decline of Coaching, speaks volumes on this argument. Just because the manual was published doesn't mean the publishing company has a clue about exercise science, coaching, or what is going to make you a better athlete. It means someone at the publishing company thought, 'gee, we haven't put out a (insert sport here) training book in (insert time frame here).' Obviously, something different about the book (mental aspect, democratizing aspect, financial aspect, & so on) caught their attention.

Frankly, I have seen few books which were heavier on science/research than they were on fluff, because most athletes don't want to purchase a 700-page tome like Lore of Running, which includes training plans & the physiological research supporting them. At least one of the plans Timothy Noakes outlines within the book has developed an entire cult of personality behind it, & somehow manages to dodge one of the great little unspoken secrets (according to a coaching friend of mine); the number who injure themselves as a result of using the plan. It's not because the plan is bad, mind you, nor the personality behind it. It has more to do with a simple violation of the basic rules of exercise physiology:

Induce stress as tolerated, then rest/recover.

Increase stress in very small increments over time.

Repeat until desired outcome is achieved.

But, nobody questions the message, or the messenger. Nobody asks where the messenger learned the message they proclaim, nor do they realize things do change over time. In essence, there will be a second, third, or fourth (perhaps later!) edition of the "flavor of the week." There's the joy of being a 'good ol', one-foot-in-front-of-the-other' on the one hand, & 'keeping an eye on the latest & greatest' on the other hand kind of person. Borrow from the smart persons, because they tend to borrow from the smart persons around them, rather than state their revelation came ex nihilo (just suddenly came to them!).

So, thanks, Bob, Dale, Jack, Jerry, Mihaly, Tim, Pat...I'm glad you guys are smart.

Easy Days

Sounds like the kind of place I want to spend some time in this time next year. Ah, but that will depend mostly on the wishes of COMNAVWIFELANT, also known as "Mrs. Java," "Coffee-Mate," or..."she who must be obeyed."

Fortunately for me, this years' endurance challenges smoothly segued into:
1. a reasonable level of training, namely the building of a right solid base, and
2. my wife's wish to run another half-marathon after a year's hiatus from systematic training.

So, I took the challenge of being husband and coach all at the same time...again...and got her back into the run training regimen she had a couple of years ago. Suzanne's strength is the ability to (like the Energizer Bunny) go for a consistent pace over an extended period of time. Brute, blistering speed is not her forte.

The biggest challenge for her, unfortunately, is the fact she is one of the few at her ability level who enjoys doing what I like to assign (to my athletes); moderate-distance training sessions of up to an hour two-or-three times a week, with speed work once-or twice a week. Oh, yes, don't forget the run of at least an hour once a week. That means she spends a lot of time doing her workouts alone. At least I can find someone within 30 seconds/mile pace to run with me...most of the time. However, since the middle of last month I've made a conscious effort to run easy with her at least once a week.

Don't know how many of you have ever tried to run a minute-to-two minutes/mile slower than your average training pace, but it can be a little painful. Especially after 60 minutes. I dreaded the prospect of those first runs at such a sedate pace, remembering vividly the damage I did to myself along Waikiki a couple of years back. All right, I have to admit part of the problem had to do with the fact I was in very old running shoes...and had recently done damage to my achilles at the beach half-marathon.

But once I figured out how to do the right thing - run for a period of time/distance, then turn and run back to my wife - everything went well. As it was, she was never really more than about two blocks back from me over the course of a single mile, so I could gently jog back. It also allowed her to know the exact route which we were going to use for a six-mile run, or an eight-mile run, or what the route for the distance she needed to cover was going to be (GPS plus Google Maps equals a very good estimate of how far you've gone.).

This particular attitude persisted over the last month, with other runners who are a little faster than my wife also benefiting from the small change in my training regimen. As they've come out they've had the opportunity to learn the loop we train on & build their confidence.

So, what has it done to my speed? Well, I ratcheted up the pace the other night on the beach, doing a 6.2-mile loop. The first mile or two were in the 7:30/mile pace, after that the splits started to come down between 5-and-7 seconds a mile, until I was running the last two miles in the high-six minute/mile range. Yes, it hurt. But it was a good hurt. I hadn't been at that particular pace for about two, or maybe three, months. But I also hadn't done any real speed work since September, either.

So, if you want to develop speed you need to learn how to run comfortably at speed. But once you've learned how it feels, you can't be hurt by emphasizing the runs which maintain base fitness.

Coach Hat, Husband Hat

(TROPICAL ISLE, BOURBON STREET, HOURS AFTER A VERY COLD CRESCENT CITY 10K)

So, there I was, minding my own business on a sleepy Sunday afternoon...sleepy because I was busy recovering from the morning's training and trying to not psych myself up for the evening's. My loving wife Suzanne looked up from her laptop, checking Facebook, and told me she was going to register for another half-marathon. This time, however, she wanted to go some place a little different. We've visited friends in Ohio in the autumn & participated in the Dayton River Corridor Classic; we've stayed home & run a couple of half-marathons in Pensacola & her beach. Hardest of all, she's allowed me to coach her through the Jacksonville Bank Marathon - in fact, my spectacular achilles tendon meltdown put my finishing time much closer to hers than my fragile male ego will admit.

She learned that day that she likes the half marathon distance. I learned I hadn't figured out the marathon yet...so I moved right up to triathlon. Go figure.

Her friend Laura is an accomplished marathoner (anyone who survived the infamous Chicago Marathon from a few years back is accomplished in my eyes), she suggested we all do the Mardi Gras/Rock n' Roll Half in NOLA, tie in a visit to all of her Gulf Coast friends, all that good stuff. Suzanne & I have always been of the opinion that racing-related travel, especially to a city which we'd visit for no other reason than because it is there, makes race prep that much less daunting. So it seemed a low-stress decision to register for the event.

This year is Suzanne's year to support me in my endurance endeavors: Ironman 70.3 Augusta, Ironman Florida, & Ironman 70.3 NOLA next year. We segue into my year to support Suzanne right around February/March time frame. So, she wants to do a half? No problem. Call me Coach one more time, honey...I've got your training plan right here.

There are some athletes who absolutely cannot be coached by their spouses. I know, because I advise a couple. One is a certified coach, like me. Another is married to a certified coach, albeit in a different sport - boy, you should see them on the race course.

Coaching your spouse is fraught with peril, not much different than the peril of the self-coached coach. That may sound foolish, but hear me out. When I go to the track for a speed workout, my focus is 138 percent on what I need to do, what speed I need to hit on those repeats, what rest intervals I get in between. Coaching other runners - especially if they are not at the same ability level as I - at the same time leads to frustration...either theirs or mine. Since they're paying a small sum for the training I provide, it's only fair I provide their hard-earned money's worth of attention, somewhere around 138 percent. I can subjugate my own personal needs for their 90 minute sessions two-to-three times a week.

You still with me? Okay. Now imagine one of those athletes sits in the passenger seat of your car going to & from the track workout, prepares dinner in the kitchen, sits on the couch next to you watching T.V., and so on. I have to remember Suzanne's goals are a little less intense (but no less important to her) than my own; I have to communicate with her a little more gently than I do the guys, understand she's as much my support as I am hers. When I leave the track the coach hat has to come off & the husband hat has to be put on. Trust me, karma happens.

It's not just the obvious physiological differences between men and women, but the emotional & sociological differences, too. Sometimes, even if I think I know the answer, I have to let Suzanne do what she feels is best, & stand by when the little tweaks need to be administered. She's learned in the past five years almost as much about coaching athletes as I have, & sometimes has given the exact same answer to friends I would have given. I marvel, then realize she's been through a five-year unintentional apprenticeship...standing in the background, absorbing it all in. She plays the coach card every so often with me, too. Boy, do I hate when that happens.

So, don't be too surprised if you see me at the end of February standing quietly by while my wife runs Mardi Gras/Rock n' Roll Half. I know she'll be enjoying herself; it's the place where she won't have to hear me pontificate about running. How will you recognize me? I'll be the one with the two hats...not knowing which one to wear.

Time To Put Out The Shingle

So...looking in the local bulletin board and I find this:

I am a relatively new runner (6 mos). I have 3 5k's, 3 10k's, and 2 4 milers under my belt. In the last month though I have been dealing with terrible lower leg pain after a run no matter what the distance is. I motrin up, take hot soaks, ice bag, and use the various cream rubs to no avail. I am hooked on running but am worried this is more than something that a new runner deals with. Any advise (sic) out there?

IF I WERE YOUR COACH: Eight races in six-months of running might be normal for a well-trained, well-conditioned elite-level runner. However, I think it's too much, too soon for a person who is in their first six months of regular running.
There are a number of root causes for lower leg pain that come to mind:
1. Previous (undiagnosed) injury
2. Lack of running experience
3. Competitive running
4. Excessive weekly running distance
Your injury is probably due to a breakdown. You've run and raced more than your body has been capable of handling, stress-wise. Without looking at your shoes, your mechanics, or your background I cannot say with clarity what the cause may be.
The good news is that most injuries are curable, if you are willing to be patient (the degree of injury you apparently have suggests a three-to-six-month recovery) and correct the root causes:
1. Find an alternative means of exercise that will build leg strength and maintain cardiovascular fitness without aggravating the present injury.
2. Sit down with an experienced running coach and develop a holistic training and racing plan which includes all of the necessary elements; rest, long aerobic runs, speed work and recovery runs.
3. Visit a knowledgeable running store (such as Running Wild) and have their staff look at your biomechanics and fit you for a running shoe that meets your running needs and your individual biomechanics.
You might want to also spend some time and money visiting your general practitioner to let them make certain there is no (stress-related) fracture to the leg.
There's my two cents. Please feel free to contact me; if I cannot help you I can point you in the direction of other coaches and professionals.
I cannot wait to see my response get slammed. :)

You Can't Always Get What You Want

First, a funny: I was getting to leave my work area yesterday afternoon. I picked up my gym bag, then reached over to my desk to grab my warm-up clothes and my swim trunks, which were on hangers and drying. The lieutenant sitting across the office asked, 'what's that?' I replied, 'Speedo.' She said something like, 'well, I've never seen them like that before...'

One of those responses that will leave you (occasionally) scratching your head.

I don't think there's anything humorous I could have shot back, but everyone else in that four-person office responded in a way which was enough to make her blush. I've done it once or twice before to her, usually as a joke. After a year, though, it's almost a form of sport to see how innocent the response can be that will turn her a shade that would make Crayola jealous. It's always a little bit cerebral; leave the innuendo far, far underneath the surface.

Okay. On to my secondary topic.

While I try to work with each individual athlete who comes out to train; find out their goals, determine their limitations, strengths and weaknesses, there are some things that are absolutely non-negotiable.

1) There is one person in charge of the workout.

2) While there are individual preferences, the workout plan is not a rerun of Let's Make A Deal.

3) The workout is voluntary, which means you can leave at any time.

I do have athletes who are experienced, who know their bodies well enough, and take the time to talk with me about what they plan to do. That's a mature athlete. In their case, I listen and throw my two cents in there. Most of the time I've been fairly well in my estimation; there have been times I've been wrong, too.

One of my favorite podcasts; one that I've listened to at least once a week since it popped up on my iTunes account is produced by the staff at Multisports.com. They were/are/coach top-shelf triathletes and have loads of experience...not to mention a serious sense of humor. The coaches corner is only 25 minutes long, but filled with great insight. My job is to teach athletes to think for themselves...then step back and serve as an advisor during those moments when they are not so certain.

I guess the choice comes down to two. I can treat athletes like rational adults who know what's best for them. I can treat them like kids who need to be led by the nose. Frankly, I prefer the former...and every little piece of rebellion and isolation just makes me more certain I'm right.

Naked, Flag-Waving, Tour De France Fan Crazy

It's not the day-to-day activity of the typical coach that drives them insane. No, the driver for that John Daly-esque, seemingly-irrational desire for a fifth (or two) of single-malt whiskey is stuff that goes on outside the environment of the gym/pool/track/road. Newsletters, uniforms, parents/family members, travel/lodging/incidentals...you know, trying to make everyone friggin' happy, happy, happy is enough to make you look for that Borat-styled thong-like thing and wear it in public. Of course, I can't find the damned photo, but if I do it'll be here for your pleasure. Promise. It got my attention while I was watching the Tour de France.

And when you get to that point you have one of three choices:

a. Stay the course and set aside the money for the single-malt, or margaritas if you prefer. I am a hands-on kind of guy; something I think I learned this from my father. His mentality was one of 'If You Want The Job Done To Your Satisfaction, You're Going To Have To Do It Yourself.' His car always ran well, his garden was always growing, and whatever carpentry or electrical projects that were done around the house were PERFECT. He made certain of it. That's probably why I can't do carpentry, tune a car or wire a room. That's okay, Dad. I know what I am good at.

b. Delegate and prepare to chew some @$$ on a regular basis. Often, I try to be prescriptive in my instructions: 'do this part of the workout in this manner and this pace, life will be good and we'll have world peace...' It's the curse of being a former teacher-type. I want to teach so my athletes can eventually do some of the hard work themselves...then, all I'll have to do is the small details, right? Every coach has a butt monkey. I was my coach's butt monkey. That's how I learned to coach; by trial and (lots and lots of) error. Sometimes I can still see my coach's tooth marks. He still tried to take a nibble here and there now, but I give him regard and go on to do things (more or less) my way.

I have started to delegate details more often to an athlete I've trained with for the past two years. He's a personable, likeable guy, not a complete @$$ like me. Usually means he tries to think about how people will react to what he says, where I say it and deal with the fallout later. Sounds like the old good cop, bad cop scenarios, no?

c. Drop the issue and wait for the inevitable question, 'Coach, what happened to...?' The same folks who complain the loudest about how things are done are the ones who provide the least support in the first place. If there's no money for team trips, a possible root cause is a lack of dues being paid. No t-shirts or singlets available? Well, no one has a demand for them. E-mail, newsletters? Same thing; I can talk a lot about my point of view, because I live there. However, the laws of physics (an inability to be at more than one location at a single time) and economics (unlimited demands never equal limited supplies) tend to override lots of things I'd love to do...however, I only have one brain, one income, and 24 hours in a day. And this is not a full-time, salary-paying vocation. If it was, I'd be more (or maybe I'd be less) in control of all the factors. Or would I?

Since there are a handful of new athletes training, most of them female, it seemed like a good idea to let them look into a crop-style (or jog bra) top for races and runs...most of them aren't fond of the present singlet. The guys usually don't wear them, either, prefering to go shirtless. However, it's cheaper for me to screenprint women's tops than to take all the guys down to the local tattoo parlor and have the club logo slapped on their chest...besides, most of them would have to shave...hm...now there's an idea...

So, the missus sent out an e-mail to all the women about a shopping trip/lunch visit just over the state line. I told her that all I wanted was a single color/style top for all of the women; if they could do that I would take club funds and print the logo on there. There I go, delegating. I'm hoping they can agree on one top, but I have the sneaking suspicion they won't be able to agree.

And that's enough to make a guy like me - or any coach - go naked, flag-waving, Tour de France-fan crazy. Anyone got a margarita?

Set The Bar Too High?

Okay, so it's not strictly a coaching thing. But sometimes the role of a coach isn't necessarily limited to kicking the athlete's @$$ around the track or the road, trying to get them to work out, or ease up. Sometimes you have to get into their mind...which is almost as strenuous as the workout the athlete endures.

One word for all of you frustrated athletes out there: Communicate.

Clairvoyance is not a gift provided to the men and women who decide to coach. What we as athletes thought was omniscience or clairvoyance on the part of our own coaches (after we farted them off and did our own thing, then came limping back...) was actually prior experience, bumps and bruises. To qualify as a coach doesn't require (well, some coaching qualifications are based on...) a bachelors' or masters' degree in psychology, physiology, exercise science, and so on. The school of hard knocks often is tuition enough. I've limped along on the sidelines enough over the past decade to have a good idea whether a particular training modality is going to injure. I might not be perfect, but I feel I'm able to perhaps keep you from falling down a storm drain.

Roch Frey, Paul Huddle, and Jimmy Riccitello were discussing the role of a coach during a multisports.com podcast two months ago. The relationship between coach and athlete is dynamic, based on the need of the athlete. Ideally, the coach will impart enough sense to the athlete that their role will be less at the forefront...there'll be less of that '...hey, coach, you think it's a good idea if I...' discussion and more '...coach, I think I need to do (blank) in order to work on (blank).' Sometimes, even letting the coach know what the individual goal is would be a step in the right direction.

Case in point: I fervently disagreed with one of my team members running 12-15mi runs in the middle of August, in triple-digit heat indices. She mentioned that my old coach told her it was all right. I basically gave her the 'love you anyway, but I strongly disagree with your plan' comment. Finally, I found out that her goal race was the half-marathon in the middle of October and not the full marathon in December. 'Gee, if you had told me this a couple of weeks ago I would have understood. Duh...' Of course, when she told me her rationale for not doing a marathon I was a little incredulous...but that's all right. Funniest thing is that she's also a member of an international organization that focuses on education and communication skills. Uh, hello, McFly?

If you don't tell your coach what you're planning, he's going to plan for something that might not be good for you.

The Nice Thing...

"Let a hundred flowers bloom; let a hundred schools of thought contend." - classic Chinese poem borrowed by Mao Zedong, ca. 1957

Athletes who identify themselves as part of a training group can be divided into three categories: Those who buy into their coach's plan, those who ascribe to an eclectic plan (their coach and one or more other coaches), and those who ascribe to their own plan.

As an athlete/coach, I'm not so certain which category I fit. Then again, it's not so much about me (I have three coaches; one for my running, one for strength and one for swimming) as it is about you.

My knee-jerk reaction is to suggest you get with one coach and trust them implicitly. My religious cult-survivor reaction is to suggest you have a coach, but take an active role in your training. Read. Ask questions. Talk about how you're feeling in between workouts. Lay out your plan, then get feedback. Adjust as necessary.

Should the athlete/coach relationship be beer and skittles? I don't think so. There's always an underlying clash of wills, IMHO, when a good athlete and a good coach come together. Think Cerrutty and Elliott, Bowerman and Prefontaine, Warhurst and Webb, Bowman and Phelps.

Most of my athletes were formerly teammates, so I'm not as much of a hard-@$$ on them as I could be. In many ways it's a benefit; they know I won't assign a workout I haven't tried myself. They know exactly what I'm doing day in and day out; some train beside me three, four, five days a week. Others I know know their body better than I; I'll recommend, take their input, suggest...and often sit back and say "did I tell you?" when they realize the (easier) effort I assigned would have done the trick.

The goal of training with a coach is to get an outside influence (point of view) while you're learning what works best for you. Since great athletes are known (more often) for switching coaches as their needs change, it's not unrealistic to expect you won't need to move on to another coach over time. Just make certain it's one at a time...most coaches are a jealous lot.

If I Were Your Coach: Empty Spaces at the Table

One of the things I love about my team is our ability to socialize at the drop of a hat. We're not like some of the other groups in town where the primary focus is alcohol intake. We train hard (enough), race hard and play hard (enough)...but not so hard as to not be able to train the next day.

I might not be able to line up a team for an event in two e-mails or less, but I can get a party scheduled.

Since my coach decided to spend a week on holiday down in Destin, just an hour away from here, we decided it might be a good enough reason to have a little get-together. Beats waiting for funerals; what's the use of dressing up for a person who can't appreciate the fact you wore a tie that matched your suit for once?

Plan "A" was a cookout at the club president's house. Oops, his step-daughter graduates this weekend, and her grandmother is coming from Mississippi. That means no drunken bacchanal there. Plan "B" was telling them to show for the traditional Friday evening "spill American beer all over each other" meeting at our favorite pizza joint. However, driving through Gulf Breeze (even while over-served) is never a good idea. Since the club's VP has a nice house and a pool in the backyard, it was only logical to ask whether she could or would step up to the plate.

The original plan (and the wish of my coach) was to invite the inner circle of the team; club officers, regular Friday-nighters, and the like. However, the VP didn't want to be put in the position of "not inviting" people. For once it couldn't be just about (without!) them.

We had a wonderful evening, with a decent crowd. Most of the folks I suspected would be there showed...with one notable exception. Sometimes, you wonder whether people who didn't show chose to or just had something else going down. I've caught flak for not making a presence at a race when my athletes were participating, because I needed the training session. But that's more an exception than a common occurrence. Many of my athletes (and their spouses) have spectated - and volunteered - at events they were not doing, like the Three-Mile Bridge Swim/Aquathon.

I know that during the Passover seder a space at the table is set aside for Elijah, in the hope of his (imminent) return. In our workouts, and our social life, we (at least I) always feel there is room for at least one more person. We can always pull in another chair, we can always find another glass, we can always buy another pitcher to share.

It wouldn't be family without 'em.