Be Consistent

For five years, I used to run every Sunday morning, as well as four-to-five other runs each week, with a dozen fellow (kind-of-serious) age group runners. Aging, family moves, injuries, marriage/divorce, role changes and other transitions splintered the group over the next four or five years. Next thing we knew it was little more than my wife and I going out to a location to run our (separate) training runs. At that time we decided the Sunday run needed a little kick in the shorts.


One of the take-aways from our frequent visits to New Orleans was tying in breakfast with the group run, something which our friends in the 5:20 Club have done for a long time. We needed to find runners who were able to handle six-to-eight miles at a time, but didn’t mind spending a little time socializing over breakfast. The most fearful thing about group runs, especially for runners who aren’t fire-breathing, type-A, stay-a-half-step-ahead-of-the-pack types, is that they will be left behind the pack to fend for themselves. After a year we’ve managed to develop a small (core) group of four-and-eight runners. We meet up to run (sometimes walk, depending on aches and pains) every Sunday morning; three or four different locations during the autumn, winter and spring, and on the beach during the summer. We exercise for 60-to-90 minutes, then clean up and sit down for breakfast or brunch.

Running is recreation. For some (like this coach) it is almost an obsession. But for the overwhelming majority of runners it is not a means of earning a living. I receive questions from a lot of people; often they ask about what it will take to improve their 5,000 meter run time, others want to know about training for a marathon. When it all comes down to the nuts-and-bolts of training, of being a runner, perspective is of the greatest importance.

A case in point: my wife’s (Canadian) co-workers and their family members participated in the recent Ottawa Race Weekend (2K and 5K) events on a warm late-May afternoon. That evening, over grilled burgers and chicken, the general consensus of the group was that they enjoyed the event but they all felt some run training would be beneficial. I agreed to provide a simple training plan as long as they (and I) understood: We have demands and commitments which fill the majority of our waking hours.

Starting out as a runner doesn’t necessarily require 60 minutes a day, seven days a week dedication. Most anyone would say that is a recipe for injury, burnout and frustration. Most people who run because they want to improve their health and eventually participate in an organized (short) road race can probably get by with 30 minutes a day for four to five days a week. If you don't have 30 minutes, but you can spare 20, that is better than nothing at all. Does the time have to be completely filled with running? Not necessarily. If you need to walk, walk until you can run again. Add running as you can tolerate. The most important thing in the training – and this goes for more-experienced runners as well as rank newbies – is to BE CONSISTENT.

Inconsistent runners can be, and often are, the type of person Dr. Jack Daniels would classify as “coach frustrators.” We coaches can see the potential within them; they verbally express the desire to do what is necessary to improve, but they are noticeably absent when it comes time to reinforce their talk with effort. The goal for all runners is to develop a consistent running habit; not just to say no to rolling back over in bed after the alarm goes off (which we all fight), but to – at the least – become and stay healthy, lifelong recreational runners.

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.