The Vehicle Always Wins

I represent what is left of a vanishing race, and that is the pedestrian.... That I am still able to be here, I owe to a keen eye and a nimble pair of legs.  But I know they'll get me someday.  ~Will Rogers

Rarely if ever do my wife and I vehemently disagree.  And even more rare is the heated argument between the two of us.  The only time a casual observer might event consider the slightest bit of discord between us is during those times when pedestrian and motor vehicle meet in the public thoroughfare.

The average person would think a running enthusiast and coach would take the side of the walker ambling from point A to point B through the center of a city street. 

Absolutely not.  I marvel at the foolishness of people who disregard common sense and common courtesy.  A marked and signal-controlled crosswalk, not 20 yards farther down the street at the intersection, has been placed there by traffic engineers with compassion and vision.  It drives me even more to fury when the same pedestrians cross during the rush hours, or at twilight while wearing subdued outerwear.

I'm not going to go out of my way to strike you, foolish pedestrian, nor will I blow my horn in an effort to startle you out of your reverie.  But please don't expect me to be exceedingly kind, either.

What caused Suzanne and I to truly exchange harsh words after a Sunday morning run and brunch at the beach, however, was a family crossing smack dab in the middle of the county highway.  With heavy early-afternoon beach trafic traveling both directions.  With a baby stroller.  I rolled up upon the gentleman with the stroller, but I was no closer to him than the large, honking van rolling up upon his back side.

Suzanne and I were both angry; she at my apparent lack of compassion, me at the gentleman's willful endangerment of his child.  I explained that legally, ethically and morally the guy was in the wrong; I would not willingly go out of my way to inflict harm, but in the unlikely event (with perfect weather and visibility, this would be highly unlikely) of a pedestrian strike the worst I would most likely incur is an overwhelming sense of emotional guilt.

"What if it were you and the grandchildren?"

"There's no way I would ever - ever - walk the kids across the street without being in a croswalk.  Period."

Normally, I would have not written or discussed this particular topic.  But I left home earlier than usual this morning, only to find I would need to take a detour to work.   An hour later I read the report of a runner struck and killed by an 18-wheel semi-truck.  As always, the details were very limited.  The road where the accident occurred is not known for being well-lit; I've driven it at 5:30 in the morning in months past.

Perhaps the runner was not paying attention.  Perhaps the trucker wasn't looking out for the other guy, didn't expect anyone to be out for their jog at 5:30 a.m.  It's a sad state for all parties.  A ton of internal combustion engine and related parts, traveling 40 miles per hour (64 feet/second) has force (128,000 foot-pounds) which far outweighs a 170-pound man traveling 7 miles an hour (11.2 feet/second, 1904 foot-pounds).  Even if the pedestrian was in the right, and did all the right things, and was entitled to the right of way, when it comes to close encounters of the vehicular kind, the vehicle always wins.  

It's easy to start looking at potential causes, like music player use, lack of lights or reflective clothing, and a lack of situational awareness, just to name a few which easily come to mind.  Did the runner decide to take a sudden turn across the street without taking a look behind him, or try to cross an intersection where the "big red hand of death" was displayed?  It's difficult to say.

Have I done a lot of things while running which would fall under the realm of self-endangerment; jaywalked, or ran across a street without using the crosswalk?  Yes.  In the overwhelming majority of cases the nearest vehicle hasn't necessarily been all that near. 

I hope that Will Rogers was wrong; that we're not all going to be eventually the victim of a motor vehicle encounter.  A keen eye and a nimble pair of legs can only get us so far.  Make certain to do the things which will allow you to see and be seen, hear and be heard on the roads.  Because if it's all left up to chance, we all know the numbers are not in the runner's favor.

Say When?

Once upon a time there was a kingdom filled with runners, where machismo was the coin of the realm. It didn't matter what the weather conditions were like, or how ill or sore they felt. When the alarm clock rang out they would stiffly make their way out the door to the track or the road run, depending on the day of the week. Eventually, their illnesses became chronic ailments; their little tweaks turned into painful disorders. All for the want of common sense.

Where was it written, that rule which compels otherwise wise and prudent men (women, too!) to fill up calendar squares, and then eventually the appointment calendars of orthopedic specialists? Even Bill Bowerman, notable for saying "there is no such thing as hard conditions, only soft people," was known to have forced easy efforts, even rest, on his athletes. Kenny Moore writes about it in the opening chapter of his (most) excellent biography.

Yes, even Kenny Moore learned when to say when.

I believe it was Cosmas Ndeti, three-time Boston Marathon winner (1993-1995), who described in a Runners' World interview about ten years ago, what can simply be called the "two-kilometer rule." (There are other athletes who have said something along these lines.) He said that on those days when he felt less than strong during the morning run he would make an effort to keep the first two kilometers close to home. If he still felt bad at the two-kilometer mark he'd call it a day, walk back to the house and rest.

Yes, even the Kenyans know when to say when.

I've talked about having a "plan B" workout for those days when the conditions or circumstances were not going to be in your favor. There are days, and physical conditions which call for each of us to be brave enough to have a Plan "C" (Cosmas Ndeti, if you like), and call it a day rather than try to struggle through it. "Wooden legs" will probably make it through the two klicks just fine. Depending on the degree of ache in the muscles, and which muscles are aching, that mile-and-a-quarter might just let us shake things out.

Those overuse injuries, on the other hand, are probably going to continue to "talk" to you at 2K. It happened to me last night at my group track workout. I wear three different types of cushioned shoes, all made by the same manufacturer. One is wider in the heel or the forefoot than others, which leads to a "mismatch" between shoe and sock, shoe wriggle, and impact shock.

Rather than be smart and remembering (my coach's coach Bob) Schul's dictum: 'you get no glory points for running through pain at a workout,' I stuck it out through the five miles of near-90-degree slog. I felt fine (better!) once I went to bed that night, but the morning workout turned from "Plan B" to "Plan C" in less than thirty minutes.

Silly me. I still need the reminder: Know when to say when.

Teach Me To Lose, Coach

lose (transitive verb) 1. Miss and not know where to find. 2. Be deprived of; be parted from. 3. Cease to have. 4. Cause or suffer defeat in (a game). (intransitive verb) Suffer loss; be defeated.

"just learned to play this tune. i think you might like it," said the text message on my wife's cell phone.

Suzanne asked me to surf over to YouTube to check out a bluegrass song yesterday morning. After sweating my way through my long run of six miles (still on the mend, my friends!) and pushing my (seventh) anniversary present (a push mower!) around the back yard I was in no mood to spend excess time wrestling with a video which may be little more than a slide show with music in the background.

If the song is really that good I might want to buy it.

I decided instead to use the streamlined (and user-friendly) iTunes interface. What came through my speakers was a nice, hopeful but sad song. I instinctively thought of the joke: 'What happens when you play country music backwards? You get your job back, your house back, your spouse back, and your drinking problem is resolved.'

Then I considered the source. My young relative is struggling with the recent dissolution of his marriage. There's no doubt in my mind he's hoping for a "happily ever after" reconciliation. I've been there; at least the songs he's listening to are more musical than the ones I used to buck myself up almost two decades ago. No sooner do I get out of iTunes and go to my social media account to see what the rest of the world is up to, and find another friend's thirty-year marriage has gone to the rubbish bin.

Then, my phone pings a text message: The mother of my good friend Aaron Boudreaux passed away the previous evening after a struggle with cancer. Nothing you can do but either mull over the fleeting nature of our existence or go stand in the sunshine and appreciate it. Back to the yard, at least for another couple of minutes.

After my wife went off to spend the morning with the grandchildren I turned on the television and channel-surfed through the mens' and womens' college basketball tournament, as well as a spring one-day classic cycling race. The sprint finish of a spring classic, or even of a one-to-three-week stage race places victory and defeat, struggle and suffering, failure and success out for all (who care to understand) to view. Especially when the guy who finishes second or third, nipped at the line because of tactics, pounds their fist on the handlebar in disgust.

Earlier, before the cycling, I surfed over toward Ted Turner's classic movie channel. I'm not an old black-and-white movie fan but the title, "The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner," naturally earned my attention. The book is (supposedly) a classic, as well as the film. I regret that to this point in time I had neither read the book nor seen the movie (either in the original black-and-white or the re-make), so I can't comment about the entire story. I happened to catch the last fifteen minutes of the film, which definitely is not a "feel-good" finish. The ending of this movie is as gloomy as the end of "The Graduate." Why the young reform schooler didn't go for the win is beyond comprehension, especially to his schoolmates and the masters at the school...until you follow (playing in the young man's mind as he approaches the finish line) the struggle of the young man to remain true to himself. In fact (and my wife reminded me this morning) it probably had to do with the small scrap of power or control he had over his destiny, the choice of whether to follow his will or the will of others.

So, do coaches teach their charges about loss?

I was thinking about the types of loss; from the simple and often silly "hidden in ones' sock drawer disguised as..." loss, which if we're lucky turns into an eventual find...usually after we spend money to replace it, to the very painful and very permanent departure of a loved one. Teaching about loss and losing happens it's one of those "oh, by the way" things. More often than not the role of the coach is thought to be like the role described in Kenny Moore's screenplay "Without Limits," the story of Steve Prefontaine and the relationship with his coach Bill Bowerman. One of the goal-setting sessions early in the movie (didn't make the "Memorable Quotes" section of the Internet Movie Database, but...) is a great rhetorical statement of the coach's role:

Bowerman (Donald Sutherland): What do you think a coach does, Pre?

Prefontaine (Billy Crudup): He teaches you to run.

Bowerman: To run a store? A business?

Prefontaine: To run a race.

Bowerman: In order to...?

Prefontaine: ...to win.

Bowerman: Yes. That's what I thought.

So few coaches teach how to lose because loss is more common in life. We all run the race, but there can only be one winner: the rest of the participants who were not the first across the line have lost. Race organizers and teachers and coaches can go ahead and put a silver lining on the dark cloud by giving age group awards, grading on curves and looking for the positives, but coaches need to teach, from personal experience and by illustrative example, that loss and losing varies in pain, in duration, and in permanence. The most painful and permanent losses are the ones from which the individual athletes decides not to learn, and decides cannot be remedied.

It's only a loss if you continue to allow yourself to be defeated.

(P.S. My condolences to the Boudreaux family. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. B. Rest in peace.)

Feel The Rhythm, Feel The Rhyme

Coach Patrick McCrann's Endurance Nation (and lately, his new Marathon Nation) sites have provided me some great common-sense hacks to pass along to folks I advise, coach or mentor. If you feel like you're spending way too much time training, not achieving any positive outcomes, and more likely ticking off everyone around you (family, friends, co-workers, employer) because you spend too much time working harder rather than smarter...well, I'd definitely recommend giving any of the two sites, or his personal site - http://www.patrickjohnmccrann - a long look-see.

This month, Patrick is providing 30 marathon (I'm going to borrow and read "distance running" where he says "marathon") tips over the next 30 days...of which you might run into on any of the three blogs (here, or North Florida RRCA, or F.A.S.T. Pensacola) on which I post. I might punch them in verbatim...I might provide some editorial comments, which will be duly noted:

I picked this tip as the first tip because I think it's that important. After years of doing run clinics and gait analysis sessions, I have learned that if a runner can get her cadence into the right spot, almost every other running technique variable takes care of itself. In other words, if you ignore the next 29 tips but nail this one...you'll be in a pretty good place. Repeat studies and performance reviews of elite athletes have shown that 180-190 steps per minute is the golden standard of cadence. In other words, taking approximately 180 steps per minute (or 90 for each leg) is an excellent way to:

move your stride length into the optimal range;
vastly improve your running economy;
reduce your chance of running injury;
and...all of the above without unduly placing too much focus on running "form."

For many people, this 180 steps per minute is much faster than what they are used to doing. While it will take time and focus to ensure that you can properly make the transition to a higher run cadence, since you can actually control (and measure) how many steps you take, this is a very easy way to implement a positive change in how you run. At the end of the day, running with a good cadence can help keep you going stronger, faster, and even help protect you from many common injuries. Let's get started...

Step 1: Assess Your Cadence
Step 2: Practice + Feel 180 Cadence
Step 3: Implement + Score Your Running

Step 1: Assess Your Cadence in :15 Increments
While it's tempting to just start tweaking...you shouldn't. Before we can make any changes, we have to know where you are starting from. The next time you go for a run, make a mental note to count your steps during the warm up, warm down, and main set portions of your run.

Try counting the strides of one leg for 15 seconds and see how close you can get to 22. Alternately, you can also count arm swings if that's easier. If you're a stickler for details, you'll want to multiply the number of steps by "4" to get the number of steps per minute for that leg, then again by "2" to get the total number of steps taken.

Regardless of your effort level / speed, your cadence should be very similar. By the end of the run, you will have a ball park number for your current "default" number of foot strikes.

Step 2: Practice + Feel 180 Cadence
Now that you know what your default cadence is, it's time to begin working on the 180. Following the same target of 22 steps per 15 seconds, begin your next run at this higher cadence. Check in every minute -- or as needed -- to assess. From experience I suggest you keep this run relatively short in duration (no more than 30 minutes) as the mental focus will really consume the workout.

In addition to counting steps, there are many other cues that you can focus on to help maintain this optimal cadence. As Jack Daniels, elite running coach and renown author advises, optimal stride rate should feel like you are running "over the ground, not into it." Here are a few other things to keep in mind:

Stay relaxed.
Land on the balls of your feet.
Keep your knees slightly bent.
Work on being light-footed / reducing friction.
Concentrate on turning your feet over as fast as you can.
Don't put too much emphasis on pushing off the ground. Instead, work on gliding across it.

Step 3: Implementing The Cadence Habit
With a quality run under your belt at the target cadence of 180 we can now go back to your regular running schedule -- i.e., whatever you are training for. As you continue running, make note of your cadence when you feel great and when you feel, well, not-so-great. Check in on the numbers during your intervals and your longer runs. If you notice a decline in steps -- or related running form/performance -- then get back to those quicker steps! Before you know it you'll be hitting 22 steps every 15 seconds like a well-oiled running machine...leaving the old you (and some of the competition) in the dust.

Notes...
Making the cadence change, like any other new element to your running, takes time and practice. At first you will need to repeat the workout in Step 2 rather frequently, but over time you will begin to gravitate to this more natural rhythm. You will also notice a slightly higher heart rate than usual for the same (or slightly slower) pace. This is not uncommon and is evidence that you are, in fact, making a change to how you run. Awesome! Give yourself until the end of the Project and you'll find that as your cadence evolves, your higher heart rate will simply fade away.

COACH MIKE'S COMMENTARY:

While I'm not a fan of running with music, especially on race day or during track workouts when acceleration drills might be on the agenda...there are times when having the right tempo music can help you to groove in that 85-90 left/right foot strikes per minute. I'm one of those guys who loves to know exactly what tempo the tunes in my iTunes are...not only for the benefit of those days when I might be on the treadmill, but also on the elliptical trainer or in the pool (I have a waterproof MP3 player). I have playlists of tunes in five-to-ten beat windows (to borrow from Foghorn Leghorn...), just for such an occasion.

If you prefer to not wear an iPod or MP3 player you can do a search on the internet for song tempos, or purchase a little metronome to clip on your hat or waistband.

There are some folks who can be their own jukebox as needed. I used to memorize entire albums of music and could pick tracks out of thin air. Strangest thing was the tune I picked out for my first road race, across the Gandy Bridge between Tampa and St. Petersburg, was in that 85 left/right foot strike per minute sweet spot...A Thousand Years, from Sting's Brand New Day release (a staple of my late college years). When I went back through my Sting collection in iTunes, I found a few other tracks which fell in that window:

Brand New Day-

-A Thousand Years (88)

-Perfect Love...Gone Wrong (90)

Bring On The Night-

-Low Life (90)

Dream of the Blue Turtles-

-Love Is The Seventh Wave (85)

-Shadows In The Rain (92)

Fields Of Gold: Best Of Sting-

-When We Dance (90)

-Why Should I Cry For You? (84)

Mercury Falling-

-All Four Seasons (88)

Nothing Like The Sun-

-Fragile (84)

Sacred Love-

-Dead Man's Rope (88)

-Forget About The Future (88)

The Soul Cages-

-Mad About You (90)

Ten Summoners Tales-

-Love Is Stronger Than Justice (85)

-She's Too Good For Me (90)

-It's Probably Me (90)

If I had to pick three tunes to channel in order to work on my pacing/rhythm/tempo/footstrike from the tunes above:

3. Fragile - a great tune for those long runs when you want to go to your happy place.

2. Why Should I Cry For You? - perfect for tempo work; the groove just goes.

1. A Thousand Years - race day tune, pure and simple, at least in my opinion.

Take the time to look at the tunes which are your running favorites and see how many of them fall into that 85-90 footstrike/minute pace...I bet there are more than you care to admit.