Looking For My Lost Shaker Of Salt

Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person. - Paul of Tarsus, writing to the church in Colosse (ca. 62 A.D.) (New American Standard Bible, 1995)


Once upon a time I was likely to shoot off my mouth; say exactly what I felt about training programs, fellow runners, race events, & life in general without regard for the feeling of others. Regrettably, one of the consequences of this attitude is it pruned the all-too-short list of close friends & associates in which I confide. Even more regrettable is "once upon a time" is still my present.

The last couple of months of writing this blog, since I've learned the number of people who actually read it, has encouraged me to more consciously self-edit. An old military friend first mentioned the advice from St. Paul long ago when I was a tightly-wound 22-year-old. Age, as you can tell, has not mellowed me so much as encouraged me to look into the room into which I consider dropping a verbal hand grenade. Even a warning that the contents of a blog post are a person's opinion (which I borrowed from the blog of two-time Olympic medalist Simon Whitfield) are easily decontextualized by a well-meaning reader who decides to pull the material from the relative security of the source site (www.if-i-were-your-coach.blogspot.com).

In spite of the 'Discovery Channel'-like nature of the Internet, I'm still thankful it remains democratic. If you have access (If you can read this you do!) you can find what you desire, & say/write what is on your mind. No single authority says you have to research from a particular source, buy from a particular supplier, or follow a particular belief. In exchange for this democracy, however, each participant is (or should be!) charged with the responsibility to think critically & criticize in a thoughtful, responsible manner. Very few individuals are taken to task for irresponsible behavior unless criminality can be directly attributed.

As part of my day job I deal regularly with a demographic which truly are a mental & emotional work-in-progress. A writer recently described the mind of a young adult as being much like a Ferrari...with really awful brakes. I marvel at what appears to be zero rational thought or impulse control on the part of many young adults, shudder to think a small number of them are handed millions of dollars in disposable income when they can barely spell "investment," & take three deep breaths as I think of them at the controls of jet fighter aircraft, carrying semi-automatic/automatic weaponry & explosive devices, & the like.

Two decades ago, the psychologist James Marcia suggested we go through "MAMA" cycles when looking at individual identity, MAMA as the acronym for Moratorium, Achievement, Moratorium, Achievement, states of identity defined by psychologist Erik Erikson. Any parent who has dealt with an adolescent who suggests "I need a summer/semester/year off to find myself" is dealing with a request for identity moratorium. Not that older adults are immune from looking for an escape from reality. In fact, some are willing to digress even farther in the development of individual identity & responsibility & simply foreclose; take the direction of others, accept the prescription of influential authorities as their place in this world. Persons you don't want to see at a political rally.

But returning to the moratorium, some time off from running - one day a week, one week a month, & up to one month a year - is a healthy decision, as long as some healthy activity is substituted. It provides (at least it does me!) the perspective there is a world outside not constrained by training cycles, recovery, & all that stuff. The two-week recovery cycle I took after my target half-marathon in November made me anticipate the return to run training that much more.

Personally, I don't recommend or condone taking "time off" from responsible behavior, responsible speech or responsible writing. If you're in a position of high-visibility, such as a politician, athlete...or a coach, for that matter...be certain that people watch what you do & listen to what you say.

So, if you're going to say something, make certain those words are gracious & well-seasoned. You never know when you might have to eat them.

Things Which Make Insurers Go Hm...

Every once in a while you feel fortunate to be not in the position of an event director. While driving from Pensacola to Gulf Breeze after the aquathon portion of the Three-Mile Bridge Swim I had the pleasure (or misfortune) to be behind a pack of cyclists who were participating in a veteran's "freedom ride" from Pensacola to Pensacola Beach & back.

Riding 18-to-20 miles is not a difficult task if you're on a road racing or triathlon bike, wearing proper equipment & taking the necessary preparation. It's a tad more challenging on a mountain (fat-tire) bike because of the weight, increased tread contact patch, & stuff like that. Of course, clmbing isn't so bad because of the granny gear; that's the 19-to-25-tooth small, small ring on the front of the real serious mountain bikes which allow the rider to climb most any hill. BUT: If you are on a P.O.S. single-speed Wal-Mart special, without water bottles...riding in baggy cotton bermuda shorts, a t-shirt, & a baseball cap...two words come to mind: Long Day.
As an event director-guy, I nearly shrieked in horror at the sight of nearly a dozen riders in what the Italian cycling commentators would call the grupetto, and what the French would call the autobus...helmetless, plodding away at a cadence guaranteed to blow their knees off at the start of the Three-Mile Bridge's hump. One of the grupetto dismounted from the bike at the beginning of the hump in order to walk it to the top. 'What's that person going to do when they get to the Bob Sikes?'

Exactly the rationale for signing waivers.

I've always wondered why event waivers were not printed in clear, simple language. Why would an event director allow a person who obviously had not prepared for a 20-mile bike ride, much less a 10-miler, to participate in such an event? When does the event director take the participant aside & say, 'while I appreciate your service & I want you to participate & enjoy yourself, I don't believe you've prepared sufficiently for this?' Certainly, I know this was a military appreciation month, veteran-focused event, but you have to set a floor-level standard.

Of course, what would have been even more cool would have been to see the spandex-clad, hard-butt bike monsters at the front of the peloton, who were traveling at 15-20 miles per hour without any effort whatsoever, slow up and ride along with these poor souls. Perhaps teach them a little rudimentary bicycle operation (something my old boss would have called Gear Shifting For Bears of Little Brain); encourage them on the climbs which were soon to come. Perhaps, even, remember the realm from which they escaped.

I've read a few comments about the enmity between bikies and tri-geeks. Bikies think triathletes have no bike-handling skills, & tri-geeks think bikers are a bunch of elitist snobs who prefer to wheel-suck. I'm perhaps painting with too broad of a brush.

But way too often the people who have developed a certain degree of knowledge, skill & ability in their particular sport are less than willing to share what they know with the newcomer. Often the newbie looks at the proficient athlete & believes they are unwilling to share knowledge...perhaps there needs to be more rides like the one the other weekend to get the gung-ho bikers & the I'm only riding my bike to the grocery store bikers together. Hey, it's all the same type of equipment. Perhaps then the average automobile driver wouldn't consider every cyclist as a person who lost their license or can't afford to drive a car (in many cases the economic facts might be true but it's not completely across the board).

No Talking, No Problems

For the last year or so, I have written a newsletter for the club. Often, it's a digest of crazy stuff that goes through my mind during a particular time of the year, or a response to something I've seen or heard in the previous month...tied in with a neat article I've read or have been forwarded, results from local races and a few hey, make certain you get involved with this kind of stuff. Sometimes it goes well, other times I know I've done little more than tick off the masses. Ah, I'm the coach. Sometimes things have to be said that don't sound very nice.

This month, I told the club secretary the responsibility for writing the newsletter would be his. I promised I'd have my moment at the front and do whatever else he asked, writing-wise. I'll toss him a few articles I find and point him towards some of the many sources I've enjoyed reading over the past three or four years.
He sent me an e-mail the other day, which sounds like some of those questions I know get asked out of my earshot. I used to ask them to my coach in the past, too. Usually, when I heard the answer I felt like saying, 'Coach, why don't you explain that to them?!' But, I guess it's kind of like one of those things fundamentalist pastors are taught: Don't Answer Questions Nobody Is Asking, Silly.
Following along on blind faith is not good. Following a training plan or a coaching philosophy on blind faith is not good, either. Asking questions is a good thing.

I think most knowledgeable coaches don't mind answering the respectfully-worded question. It's the ones that sound like challenges to authority that tend to tick them off. Of course, when the question is asked, the athlete better be prepared to hear the plain, unvarnished truth of the answer.

It's not that coaches don't want to tell the truth; they might have a hard time placing the truth in a format that won't emotionally thrash the athlete. Hippocrates of Cos was right: 'first, do no harm.' Like Coach Ethan Barron of Tufts University advised, '...athletes will always sense hypocrisy. If you don't truly believe what you are saying, then don't say it.'

So, if I'm not talking, it's not that I don't love you. It's that I'm trying to find the right way to say what needs to be said.

That having been said, I'm having so much fun at this moment, standing trackside. I hate not being able to train because of this injury, but I like being able to focus my attention on my athletes, almost 100 percent. Having two or three ability levels going at the same time, as well as the occasional straggler or outside conversation, makes it tough...but I think my wife would tell you I'm laughing and smiling a lot at the track as of late.

Laughing and smiling...no talking...no problems. Right?