It's Not Me, Coach. It's You.

Frustration: A common emotional response to opposition....it arises from the perceived resistance to the fulfillment of individual will. The greater the obstruction, and the greater the will, the more the frustration is likely to be....In people, internal frustration may arise from challenges in fulfilling personal goals and desires, instinctual drives and needs, or dealing with perceived deficiencies....Conflict can also be an internal source of frustration; when one has competing goals that interfere with one another, it can create cognitive dissonance....While coping with frustration, some individuals may engage in passive-aggressive behavior, making it difficult to identify the original cause(s) of their frustration, as the responses are indirect. A more direct, and common response, is a propensity towards aggression. - N.E. Miller (1941)

Until I spent three months in North Chicago, IL I thought seasonal affective disorder - that state of depression which hits folks during the darker, more-gloomy months of the year - was a bunch of hooey. Darned if a solid week of cloudy, damp, miserable days at Great Mistakes didn't cause me to change my tune, & quickly.
I never thought myself to be susceptible to the symptomatology. I figured working in buildings without window access - or windows altogether - and terrible lighting for nearly three decades... there was that brief, two-year period where I worked in an office with a picture window, and a year where I worked from midnight to eight a.m...would provide sufficient protection from the vicissitudes of darkening days.

By the end of that epic just-off-the-shores-of-Lake-Michigan-in-late-autumn period, I was ready, really ready, to return to the Sunshine State. Remember those video clips where the Pope kisses the ground the moment he touches down in a foreign land? That's what I looked like on my return to Pensa-freaking-cola.

So, training with the group during late autumn darkness, dampness & dreariness was great therapy. I could definitely handle the conditions as long as there was one other person suffering with me. I know that's what brought a lot of my training partners at that time out; the fact I would be out there to get that workout in. Doesn't mean I didn't hate the conditions. I had to prove somehow I was badder than the drug. I felt being badder also led to being better on race day.
But, it's completely different when you're coach than when you're the athlete. Especially when you're dealing with adult runners who don't have to be there if they don't want to. As madness begets madness, it's easy for me to shrug off heading out to the track on a night when it's damp & drizzling; I'm already under the presumption well, heck, nobody's going to be out there...why should I even care?

Add to all of this the season - which to me, needs no reason; read some of my earlier postings to understand my religious survival - & you have a recipe for cranky (and sick!) people. I love the plethora of get-togethers, parties, social functions, drunken bacchanalia, shopping, trips, days away from work & so on, but it's a challenge balancing all this stuff. Best way you can deal with it is to take care of things very, very early (as my wife is wont to do) or realize can not do everything. Learning to say 'no, I'm sorry, that's not going to happen' is, to me, the golden mean; the royal road to sanity. The people who are offended by that response aren't going to be the ones you'd spend time with in the first place, & the ones who understand...well, they'll understand.

So, the social aspect of running can be as therapeutic for me standing on the side of the track as it is for the person circling the same. Oh, how I miss the days of ambulating (perambulating? sauntering? shuffling? meandering?) through the holiday light-bedecked neighborhoods, especially after the last 5K of the season & everyone still had their little bell attached to their running shoes. If you can hear the voice of Charlie Brown from A Charlie Brown Christmas playing in the back of your mind, when he's asking: 'is there anyone who can tell me what Christmas is all about?!' Well, that's me right now. This, too, shall pass. Kind of like a kidney stone. Ow.

Living and Learning

"Let's call all the fun we've had living, living; Let's call all mistakes we've made learning, learning..." - "Living and Learning," Mel Tillis (1971)

(Note: Today's weblog title & the reference lyrics are in honor of my late grandfather, who used to sing & play little ditties like this one, so long ago.)In the business world, perhaps in the last decade...maybe a little longer back than that, there was a focus on transforming businesses into "learning organizations." Training & education managers, formerly the red-headed stepchild forced to share a bedroom with human resources, suddenly became a C-level (or sea level, if you wish to look at it that way, especially if you're at the water's edge...) entity all its own. It was one of the important disciplines in business, especially if you believed what you read in Peter Senge's The Fifth Discipline.

Ah, those were the good old days. Now, in the age of shrinking (shrunken?) budgets, training & education, as well as the CLO (Chief Learning Officer) have been forced to come back home & share the room with manpower & personnel...human resources. But, it doesn't make learning any less important a part of living. John Dewey once said: 'training is not preparation for life. Training is life...' or something to that extent (shame on me, an education guy, for not knowing the exact quote).

That's the most fun about coaching & training, I think. In order to be as efficient with my training as I possibly can...even more important as I become older & less efficient in recovering from races and workouts as I used to be...I have to read, research, re-read, & re-research what coaches, scientists, & even athletes have found to be the most effective means of training, fortifying, supplementing, recovering, & so on. I like it, it fits well with my personality. It provides me the opportunity to try something a little bit different, or adapt to what I'm already doing, before I try it on any of my athletes.

Doing this involves what I guess the Zen masters might call beginners' mind. You have to wipe out any preconception about a particular topic in order to listen clearly, lest your Charlie Brown filter be engaged. We all have that filter; the one that turns plain, simple language into waah, waah, waah-waah, waah...waah in less than 3.2 seconds, leaving us stupider than before. Turning on that filter not only makes you more stupid, but makes your life much less enriched.

I've kicked myself in the butt on many an occasion for not listening more closely to friends who read an article in Runners' World, Triathlete, Geezerjock, & wanted to share their insights with me. Usually that kick in the butt came after remembering, 'hey, didn't so-and-so tell you about a particular piece of equipment, or a particular exercise that would have kept you from crashing & burning in that event?' Then I have to go back, reclaim beginners' mind, & listen to what I should have listened to before. Well, C.S. Lewis once wrote, 'pain is the megaphone of God,' so maybe it was the Almighty's way of telling me...'(WHACK!) Stoopid...what were you thinking!? Wait, were you thinking!?'

So, there I was, standing in my local running emporium, sweating my behind off, listening to one of my advisors talk to a marathon training group about hydration & nutrition. Normally, I would have shrugged off the vast majority of the information; turned on the Charlie Brown filter. But this time, well, you can blame it on Nikki...she handed me an outline of the lecture. What else could I do but stand at the back of the store and listen in. 'Who knows, dude...' I said to myself, 'you might even learn something.'Since the marathon has been my weakest running event, & the one which will probably determine how well or poorly I do in November, I figured it couldn't hurt. No worse than doing the walk of shame for ten kilometers to keep from blowing up my achilles, which I did in 2007.

It was no surprise to hear the obvious: 'we are in two states...training & preparing for training.' But it never really clicked until then. I learned a good possible root cause for my weight plateau & a few other nutrition specifics. Gee. What a concept.

So, by allowing myself to go to beginners' mind I was able to learn a few things which could make the difference between a bad day & a good day, or a good day & a very good day...both now & in the near future.

"And we'll go on through life together living and learning..."

When It's Out Of Your Hands

I've talked on one or two occasions about the challenge of remote-control coaching. My first reaction to the idea of having a coach who's not at the beck & call has always been, 'on-line or remote coaching is less than effective because coach so-and-so is not going to be available to you at 6:38p.m. on a Saturday one week out from your goal race.'

However, I also have had to be pragmatic about the whole d*mned coaching thing. I have friends in outlying areas (like Alberta, Canada) who developed a trust in what I knew about training & coaching from my own mistakes...okay, it's taken them seven years to know...and figure I might be able to help them achieve their running goals. Even with the trust factor nailed down, there's still a language barrier...it takes a few months of running workouts with me to know exactly what I mean when I use a particular term. Some of it has to do with my inability to communicate, some of it has to do with what I consider a mild speech impediment - after 30 seconds, the Charlie Brown filter of most people turns on.
What's the Charlie Brown filter? Remember the old Peanuts cartoons (A Charlie Brown Christmas, He's Your Dog, Charlie Brown, etc.), where the teacher or principal, or some adult is talking & everything is Wah wah, wa-wa-wa wah wah, wah, wah...? That's the Charlie Brown Filter.
It's nothing that surprises me. I do the same thing when people are yammering on & on & on...
Once I can get the basic language of coaching & training figured out between the remotely-coached athlete & me, usually limited to intensities & feedback structure, things seem to go well. I've been rewarded with knowing I was responsible for the successful completion of several half-iron & iron-distance triathlon events, a couple of Boston Marathon qualifications, & the like. It's the kind of stuff that, as Mark Twain said, allows me to exist for two weeks.
This weekend has me taken care of for the next month:
My friend Betsy completed her first Ironman 70.3 in New Orleans yesterday. I remember one of my first triathlons just up the road in Perdido Key, near the Alabama state line; we both succeeded in getting ourselves hung up in the same marker buoy on the swim portion of the triathlon. I slowed to a stop, took a look back to shore and proceeded to freak out for ten seconds, thinking 'OMG, I am SO freaking far from shore this is not funny.' Betsy, on the other hand, was so seriously hung up in the line she needed assistance from one of the water safety guys. Swimming has been her most difficult discipline, and I've been close at hand to watch her progress.
What impressed me most was not so much that she finished the 1.2-mile swim in Lake Ponchartrain - which would have been a major accomplishment in and of itself - in an hour & 30-something minutes (CORRECTION: One hour, thirteen minutes. MB). It was the fact she took the time during that particular swim to help a woman who was in a panic over her own personal wardrobe (okay, wetsuit) malfunction.

From what Betsy mentioned, the woman's Velcro tab at the neckline had either come off or been taken off or had failed altogether, leaving her with the risk of having a lot of Lake Ponchartrain come into her suit. So, Betsy assisted in getting this woman to a safety kayak & helped her work the issue through. Sometimes it's the comfort by which we are comforted we are most able to provide to others. Even I don't think I would have done anything like that, not on the day. Well, perhaps. I'd like to think I would. Well, perhaps it was passing forward what I did last October on Santa Rosa Island, when I stayed close by during the swim because of her foot cramp. I then passed her along to another kayaker to shepherd to shore as I went back to watch for others.

I was more impressed at the fact she ran her half-marathon only a few minutes slower than I did mine during my half-iron last year. Kudos to you, Betsy! I told you you'd have a good day if you got the nutrition down pat.

Cheryl is working on a 22K/half-marathon training program after having baby number two (cutest little girls; something to be said about genetics). Rather than pushing her out onto a track to hammer out intervals & tempo pieces, I've adapted my workout to let her do them on treadmill so she can be mama & train. Yesterday was her first long run outdoors in a long time, in which she did 7.5 miles at right around 10-minute pace. She said there were no worries, no discomfort, & she was planning to do more long days on the road rather than the treadmill. She's got a few more months to her goal events, but the start is auspicious...and her coach is stoked.

Sometimes the genius lies within the athlete, not the coach. We only try to pull it out. Kind of like Glenda, the Good Witch from The Wizard of OZ. And if any of you ever call me Glenda...