See Me? Hear Me?

One of my friends had a "close encounter of the motor vehicular kind" last week.  At first glance, the entire scenario appears torn out of the middle pages of one of my favorite running novels, John L. Parker, Jr's. "Once A Runner."  His post-encounter commentary - with a few minor edits - follows:

"Dear Rogue Driver:  Thank you for taking the opportunity to play 'will my insurance cover this?'  You chose to run through a posted four-way stop intersection and only look to your left.  I, on the other hand, approached from your right.  Even though I was decorated more like a flashing Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, you somehow failed to notice me.  Your failure to notice me initially cost you a size 11 dent in your hood, as well as the loss of two windshield wipers and the driver's side mirror."
"I appreciated your creative use of expletives as you drove angrily next me over the next several yards; you failed to appreciate the possibility that I might have been sufficiently prepared for such an encounter.  I was physically warmed up, as well as mentally and emotionally-charged as a result of the very angry music to which I was running.  I could gladly accept my failure to cleanly evade the initial obstacle outweighed your failure to exhibit your mastery of the English language.  However, your effort to compensate for my greater level of failure by cutting me off, then climbing out of your car to take a swing at me was a big mistake.  In my humble opinion, that was definitely unacceptable."
"I sincerely hope the hospital trip to seal your lip and stitch the cut under your left eye serves as an object lesson:  Just because a man wears short running shorts does not necessarily mean he lacks the ability to loosen a load of rubbish out of your skull should you attempt to run him off the road.  In order to save your face and motor vehicle from any further damage it would be wise for you to, at the least, look both ways before violating traffic laws.  Sincerely, M.J."

I know M.J.'s actions are likely going to make life more difficult for the next runner "Rogue Driver" encounters.  And, as always, it is impossible to glean the salient details of a runner-meets-angry-motorist story from the point of view of the runner.  But we perhaps can take away a few points:

The three most important qualities for safe running near motor vehicle traffic are "visibility, visibility and visibility."  Well, only if you're a realtor.  The two qualities other than visibility might be "hearability" and "communicability."  Light-colored clothes, reflective gear, lights; all of these items ought to be part of the runners' wardrobe, and especially during the winter months. 

I'm not going to beat the "music headphones are evil and should be destroyed" drum, but please find a way to keep the volume - if you're going to wear them on the run - low enough to hear what is going on around you.  Runners tend to listen to music in order to dissociate, get away from the messages being sent to the brain.  Sometimes getting away means not getting the important message that an auto or a person are approaching. 

Lastly, if you have to defend yourself physically, make certain (as Parker wrote) you can control "the preliminaries."  A means of exit that a car cannot follow is good; a means of collecting information for the local law enforcement is better.  It doesn't hurt to carry a smart phone with you.  Those little cell phone cameras do things which exceed documenting your friends on Saturday night.

Long Run + "Comatose State" = Too Long

My friend Betsy, Suzanne, and I were talking over Monday early morning coffee about time-constrained training, training partnerships and - not surprisingly - the role of the long run in marathon training.

Suzanne marveled that a group of people would meet each weekend at 5:20 in the morning to train.  Naturally, we understand that during certain times of the year - like months which don't have an "R" somewhere in them - early morning training runs are not just a good idea, but sane behavior.  She also liked the fact that the group would take time to socialize over breakfast something we've encouraged with our training partners.

Betsy mentioned that 5:20 was the latest the group left in the morning; a runner doing a longer effort would start their run as early as 3:00.  In the case of runners who want to finish and have breakfast with the rest of the group, doing two hours or less, it makes perfect sense.  

However, a four-hour marathon training jaunt only benefits mentally.  To do at least one four-hour (or longer) run in the preparation for 26.2(1876) miles - the four-hour run can help the runner to get their head around the thought of running four-to-five hours at a stretch - is one thing.  Otherwise, especially in the physiological sense, the recreational runner who does more than one four-hour training run when prepping for the marathon has got to be mental.

There's a point of diminishing returns - physiologically, emotionally and socially - once the run goes beyond two-and-a-half-hours.  It's more difficult to recover, and even do a run the following day, when more than 150 minutes of good running has been "deposited in the bank."  And 150 minutes at a stretch is the (recommended) 25-percent long run portion of the maximum sane week (10 hours) of training.  There are highly esteemed coaches (of Olympic marathoners) who would rather have their athletes spread the training volume across the week rather than do 50-60% of it in one long slog.

Frankly, all I wanted to do after 16-mile training runs (in a sliver over two hours) was take a long hot shower, pull on compression tights and sweats, put my legs up on the couch and watch football all afternoon.  Unless you have a VERY understanding spouse, kids or significant other, the prospect of a (beyond-healthy) chunk of YOUR Saturday (or Sunday) morning out spent on the roads doing 18, 20, or 22 miles in close to four hours, followed by "Occupy the Couch" means a large portion of THEIR weekend is pretty much shot to hell.

If you absolutely have to do the 18-to-22 mile run more than one time in the marathon preparation, schedule it so it comes before a "cut-back" week, where the mileage, time or intensity (or all of the above) is intentionally decreased to let the body (and mind) recover.

A physiologically or emotionally-viable alternative for the runner who feels the compulsion to do the "really long run" part of marathon training more than one time can include the option of splitting it into two.

There are several ways the "typical" weekend can be broken up:

1 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Friday afternoon, then do the remaining miles on Saturday morning.  Sunday morning can either be a rest day, Saturday's run, or a run of 30-to-60 minutes focusing on form and turnover.

2 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Saturday morning, with the remaining miles late Saturday afternoon.  Sunday morning can either be a rest day or a shorter run of 30-to-60 minutes focusing on form and turnover.
3 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Saturday evening, with the remaining miles early Sunday morning.  Then do a very short run run of 30 minutes focusing on form and turnover that afternoon.

I don't like the idea of splitting the long run between Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon.  There's always something to do with loved ones; taking any more time than what is absolutely necessary away from family is not a decision which will make for successful running.

There are varying schools of thought about what needs to be the maximum long run distance for marathon training.  The 30-kilometer recommendation of European coaches and the 20-mile number bandied about by coaches here in the States are nice round "one-size-fits-somebody" numbers.  The best maximum distance for marathon training is the one which does not go too far beyond the physiological tipping point, one which allows the runner to get up and do a little something the following day, or at least do a little something with family that day.

Running Mad - Does Stress Help Runners?

Consider me a modern-day "Martin," travel-and-adventure companion of Candide in Voltaire's short story of the same name.

I'm the anchor-like balance to my wife's "best of all possible worlds" point of view. We balance each other quite well, and have done so over the past eight-and-a-half years. My bad days normally coincide with her positive moods; the moments Suzanne feels like ripping out the hearts of her adversaries like an Aztec priestess are balanced by my 'karma happens; they'll receive their just reward soon enough' attitude.

Fortunately for the world around us, both Bowens are rarely in a cranky mood. But when those days come, it's usually the perfect timing for a workout.

I had banged my head against the desk all day yesterday, and suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous commuter misadventure. What is it about idiots who want to whip around you, just so they can sit in front of you at the intersection? 'Oh, goody, you get a cookie for making it to the stoplight first. Now you can sit there as long as I do, jerk.'

I came through the front door to see my loving bride seated at her computer, running gear on. No greeting, save for "I really need to hit the treadmill today."

Funny, but that's exactly how I felt.

Minutes later, we walked the half-mile to our neighborhood gym, which gave Suzanne the opportunity to vent about the major topics of the day. When she mentioned she had eight telephone calls interrupt her labors I had to admit a small twinge of guilt; I was responsible for 25-percent of them. Well, the calls seemed pretty darn important at the time.

Once we got to the gym, we attacked the treadmills; taking no prisoners, giving no quarter, leaving nothing behind but sweat.

Returning home didn't mean the end. We immediately leashed my sister-in-law's terrier and our greyhound and took them for a walk. We took no doo-doo from them, either, pun intended. It wasn't until some time close(r) to 7:30 when we finally relaxed enough to sit down for dinner.

Suzanne has told me she enjoys working out or racing while she's angry. One of her best half-marathon performances - or one of her best performances in a half-marathon, I cannot rightly recall - came after a younger woman made a wise crack about her age at the bottom of a hill. She put on a surge which amazed the course worker at the to the top of the hill, coasting through the remainder of the course under a full head of steam. Suzanne, nor the course workers, recalled seeing the younger woman nearby for the remainder of the race.

On the other hand, I consider anger or other emotions a fuel good only for very short-term endeavors. All those chemicals which contribute to the classic fight-or-flight response may light off the afterburners, but they also cause a few less-than-positive consequences:

First, the breathing becomes more shallow. I'm not so certain about you, but I have enough difficulties keeping enough air in my lungs during the course of a 5,000-meter road race. So, stressing out doesn't work so well for me cardiovascular-wise.

Second, the muscles are tensed up in order to either kick, swing, pummel, bludgeon or withstand a kicking, swinging, pummelling or bludgeoning. Tense muscles are inefficient muscles...we do speed training to learn how to run at speed in as relaxed a manner as possible, not in as tight a manner as possible.

Third, the brain tends to think less critically. It's one of the unintended consequences of all that nice adrenaline, epinephrine, cortisol, cholesterol, glucose...and the many other chemicals pumped into our bloodstream by our endocrine system. Anyone who has ever been in a life-or-death situation will say they probably were thinking of little else but how to get to the nearest egress. And thinking, serious status checking, is crucial for road racing...especially when the race distance moves from 5k to 10k, from 10k to 21k, and so on. Lapses in thought can cost seconds and minutes.

So, remember that running ought to be the release from the stress of the day, not an extension of the stressors.

All God's (Running) Children Got Shoes...

I got home the other evening from a five-day trip to San Francisco, where I had the pleasure of accompanying my wife on one of her telecommunications conference/business jaunts. I don't enjoy business travel, but I can tolerate what can be best described as "pleasure" travel; trips where I don't have to do too much save for drink beer, drink coffee, eat, exercise, read, and sleep. Those trips are usually "earned" by participating in a small amount of "sherpa" activity, carrying back extra or excess "stuff" in my luggage which probably shouldn't have been brought (or bought!) by my loving wife in the first place.

So, I often bring clothing items I can readily jettison on the last morning of the trip, which usually includes a single pair of running shoes at the end of their effective life span. I decided to sacrifice my oldest pair of shoes on travel after seeing one too many shoeless indigents walking down Caroline Street in Key West, FL. To a homeless person, a beat-up pair of running shoes is better than no shoes at all. I try to clean the shoes a day or two before the end of trip and leave a note for the housekeeping staff. The act of perhaps helping another person in a world of hurt by giving them something as simple as a pair of old shoes also helps me try to not hurt myself by running in a pair of running shoes which is too old.

Every so often I get an athlete who complains of sore feet, ankles, shins, knees...sometimes even sore hips and low back. I immediately look to their shoes to see their condition, then ask the question most runners cannot answer: 'how long - in miles & months - have you had those shoes?" If a runner has pain & their shoes have less than 300 miles/six months then the root cause is either something biomechanical, something overuse, or they're in a pair of shoes which isn't right for their foot type. But it's more likely that the runner cannot tell me how many miles or how many months they have had that particular shoe...which usually means they've had the shoe too long.

Most shoes will last an average of 400 miles or eight months, whichever comes first; a ballpark figure which has wiggle room on either side based on the runner's weight, weather conditions, sweat rate & terrain choice. Runners (like me) who sweat a great deal & run in humid climates go through shoes at varying rates throughout the year; shoes purchased in October or November last a few miles/weeks longer than shoes purchased in March. Lighter, less-sweaty runners can almost figure out down to the week when they'll need a new pair. I keep track of the cumulative mileage for each pair of running shoes I have - I rotate between three pairs because I do sweat - on my training log spreadsheet. If I start feeling an ache in the foot or ankle I can look at the mileage & determine whether the cause is training volume/intensity or if it's time to look for a new pair of shoes.

There are several ways to tell whether a pair of shoes is near the end of their lifespan. The most humorous, & probably the most noxious, sign your shoes are dead is when they literally smell dead. I've taken a "truly dead" pair into a local running shoe store to get a replacement, & they begged me to leave the shoes outside at the curb in a biohazard baggie. But that's really the most extreme case of zombie shoe you should ever see. Personally, I hope you never go that long between shoe purchases.

The biomechanically-challenged runner will wear the outer sole rubber off at the places we used to wear out our old Converse Chuck Taylors, at the heels or the balls of their feet. I've seen some shoes with the outer sole under the big toe worn smooth. Typical runners, however, will have crushed mid-sole, where all that nice, white foamy EVA has serious crinkling along the sides of the shoe. You can also tell if the midsole is dying or dead by taking the sockliner (another term for the shoe's insoles) out & giving the EVA a push with your fingertip. If there's no give when you push or rebound when you release the midsole is probably dead.

Lastly, when the EVA looks & feels good and the outer sole looks like a champ, take a close look at the places along the shoe where the upper portion of the shoe joins with the sole. If there is a break between the shoe upper & the sole, the chances are high it's time to replace the shoe. Those are usually the most heart-rending replacement times for a guy like me, because I've just become happiest with the fit & feel of the shoe. But, regardless of whatever emotional attachment you might have with that old shoe, when it says "it's not you but them", it's time for them to leave. New sockliners (insoles) should only be placed into those old running shoes if you plan to use them for kick-arounds, gardening, or lawn-mowing. Or if you're one of those folks who likes your workplace footwear to say, "yes, I am a runner," or, "yes, I like to get paid to do things while wearing ugly running shoes."

But a job where you can get away with being paid while wearing ugly running shoes is a beautiful thing. Ask any coach.

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.

Make Yourself A Good Noise

Now we all got the hand for the gimme, we all got the mouth for the much obliged
But when it comes down to the giving back we give the eye to the other guy

Oh, it seems that so much trouble is simply caused by the angry word
Although silence can be a virtue I say it's a good noise that's preferred

Now you've got every right and reason to be down in the dumps today
Aren't you just adding to the problem if you've got nothing good to say?

Sure there are wars, disease, injustice, rich men walking on your hands
But tell me how can you ever take a breath of hope talking down your fellow man?

("Good Noise," John Gorka, 1994)

A friend I was stationed with in Germany back in the 1980s, one of my karate instructors, used to eat kimchi. Kimchi, for those of you who have not encountered the Orient, is Korean pickled cabbage and other vegetables. The closest thing I can compare it with is a cross between sauerkraut, wasabi and perhaps horseradish. You could tell when Joe had recently eaten kimchi, especially on warm summer days. Joe didn't have to sweat all that much for you to tell the last time he had eaten a jar. There was no denial on his part, either; Joe would make no bones about the amount of high-octane Korean kraut he took in. It seemed to do him well at karate tournaments (fortunately for him there was no rule against eating rotten veggies); but it limited his odds of dates, too.

We all have heard the chestnut: "You Are What You Eat." I've joked in the past that if I were to limit my dietary intake to the Little Debbie snack cakes I rarely eat now, I'd look like a Little Debbie cake; round, filled with junk, probably wrapped in plastic and stuffed in some box. But I had a bit of an object lesson the other day about the social, mental and emotional dietary requirements (both intake and output) of an athlete/coach/race director/organization guy.

It's not so simple as taking a precautionary sniff in order to tell the physical, emotional and spiritual diet of a person. I have met people who gave me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies before I ever really tried to know more about them...sometimes things just don't seem right with the guy/gal. And we all have dealt with people who made us feel uncomfortable or dirty or wary with the first words spoken; what can you do but suck it up and get through the conversation, then run for the Brillo pad and bleach or hope like mad the person proves you wrong in the future.

But there's only so much you can take of a dose of negativity from someone around you until you want to avoid them, because they're a Doug/Debbie Downer.

I had an all-you-can-eat-negativity-salad-bar moment earlier this week. While the person with whom I was chatting had some good points and perhaps a justifiable beef I knew it was in my best interests to not over-agree with them. To borrow from a former Mossad agent, Victor Ostrovsky (his book: "By Way Of Deception"): 'when I am sitting in conversation with my friend, I know that I am not sitting in a conversation with his.' To wit: While I might withhold the sources of my conversations within these spaces in the interest of protecting their identity, I know if I were to talk smack about someone...even within these spaces...even if it were truth, I'd be the recipient of an unmitigated scheissesturm.

But, the conversation made me think about how I am when I'm in a critical mood. If I had been smart I would have backed the pace off to a much slower one than I was going, or taken a cut-off for a shorter course to get out of the conversation. I mentioned to my wife (and another friend over a beer) that evening: 'my God in heaven, is THAT what people have to put up with when they talk with me!?'
So, now it's time for me to watch the emotional and spiritual food I dole out to my friends, athletes, cohorts, and members of the running/multisport community. I would much rather be a source of encouragement and nourishment than one whose negative funk can be smelled yards away.

Tell me the truth - what are you living for? Tell me why, why are you near?
'Cause if you cannot make yourself a good noise then tell me what you're doing here?

Take A Deep Breath And Read The Fine Print

Some friends outside of the immediate area enjoy borrowing my posts; I guess every so often I manage to transcend the personal & slide right into the universal. Doesn't happen as often as I like, but when a good post is borrowed I really appreciate it.
If you've ever read a piece of literature or an article - or for that matter, a blog post - without looking closely into the perspective or the context under which it was written you might miss the point. Sometimes I have to point the reader to a piece of literature, a song, or a movie in order for them to understand exactly what I'm talking about. I've had friends tell me, or more often, my wife, 'you know, he's a good writer but sometimes we don't have a clue exactly what he's talking about.'

The main page of my blog has a disclaimer I adapted from one on the weblog of two-time Olympic medalist Simon Whitfield. In essence, it says: 'dude, this is my opinion. Take it with the amount of salt needed to be palatable.' My wife is wise enough to ask me to clarify. My father has read enough missives from me in the past three decades to translate (now you know why the Bible can be so hard to interpret?). Most other people only read a piece of what I've written then go off on a tangent, have a conniption fit, & set out to prove me wrong.

My friend Kevin Spain is a sportswriter for a large newspaper. There are certain times of the year he has no lack of material for the on-line & print versions. Other times he looks for something that's a little more out of the ordinary. Occasionally he borrows from me, or asks me to write something on a topic which he feels the need for coverage. I'm not one to deny the request of a friend. A blog post of mine about a Red Dress Run & my observations was decent enough to make the electronic world. I harbor no fantasies of being a big-shot writer, much less a big-shot coach or a big-shot in the running community, as I was once called by a USATF official in Dunedin. To think my opinions & observations of a very large running/social event (frankly, one of the largest of it's kind in the country!) would hold water with the lumpenproletariat is beyond my understanding.

Hey, I'm just a guy telling my story.

Imagine my surprise last night when I received a couple of e-mails: One was from the organizer of the event in question. Another was from a person who did not provide their affiliation, but must have been a member of the same organization, or all-too-emotionally attached to the event.

The rebuttal from the event organizer was gracious; to the point she wished to provide her side of the story, with a press release about the charitable proceeds of the event. The second e-mail was, er, less-than-gracious, & quite typical of e-mails I've received from members of the organization in question when they feel they've been wrongly maligned. I proceeded to tell the event organizer she missed some of the salient points of my blog, & provided some additional information I left out in the intent of putting a best face on the event.

We all have, some preacher once told me, the opportunity to influence 150 people. We have close enough relationships with that many persons; most will not hesitate to speak well of the good customer service situations, or restaurant experiences, or holiday trips, or running events. Same goes for bad experiences - those 150 can be influenced to be a future customer or to never darken the doorstep of your business. I didn't want to tell this event organizer I would be a dissuading influence on her event, but merely a single customer who decided his preferences would lie somewhere else for that particular event in the future.

After the second e-mail, I decided on dissuasion. I can spend the same amount of money in that town; stay at the same hotel, & have as good a time as a spectator...better, actually...than as a participant. And I told the event organizer thus.

That's the joy of capitalism. Sometimes the hired help shoots management in the foot.

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.

Thank You Very Much

Every once in a while you hear or read something that surprises the daylights out of you. In this particular case, it was more of a good surprise. One of the triathlon coaches I enjoy reading, Chuckie V, announced the fact one of his main athletes was moving on to (or was picked up by) Team TBB. For most of average readers who know little about multisport, but might know something about the Hawaii Ironman triathlon, one of TBB's athletes, Chrissie Wellington, has won the Hawaii Ironman during the past two years. Team TBB is described as a developmental squad & has one of the best coaches in the business, Brett Sutton.

I can only imagine the pride, as well as the mixture of emotions, coursing through Chuckie at this moment, as he helps Angela prepare to move on to bigger opportunities. It's not so much that Brett Sutton is a better coach, or TBB is a better team as much as it is an opportunity for Angela to be able to more closely focus on her dream; becoming a professional triathlete...becoming the best athlete she can be. And when you read Angela's blog you can tell the feeling is mutual.
Frankly, nothing more warms the cockles of my heart (whoa...dude...hearts have cockles...) than to have someone I've coached (defined as provided counsel, guidance, encouragement, and/or workouts) publicly compliment me for what I've done, & how I've been able to assist them achieve their personal athletic goal/s. Sometimes, amazingly, some even laud me to others around them.However, I have to make it clear; their personal accomplishment was achieved because of their own efforts, with a small degree of help from me. Regardless of whether I draw up a training plan, or answer a physiology question, or recommend a workout, or even provide a bit of perspective (some cases I'm the guy telling them, 'don't worry about having a bad workout/day/week/performance today; this isn't the day to focus on...'), I cannot follow the training plan, run the workout, take the action (or inaction) for them. They have to do it themself.

So, maybe I should thank them in return for following my advice & trusting me to be their coach/sports psychology technician/referral person. Since they're not making money it might be all I get. However, in many cases it leads to repeat, ongoing customers.
So, thank you, thankyouverymuch...

Energy Conservation

The most dangerous time in event preparation lies during the tapering period. Coaches like Forbes Carlile learned that a tapered decrease in effort before an athletic event permitted the athlete to regain energies lost during extended bouts of hard training. Even an enforced time away from the pool, or track in the case of Emil Zatopek in 1952, can help. Often times the energy restored is physical; sometimes it can be mental.

One of the things I missed the most during the two months I walked around in a sling after my humeral fractures was the smell of chlorine in the humid pool air, & the aroma of the blossoms in the bushes along the trails near the track where I train. My body knew it would be time & time & time before I could get in/out, but my mind was the most injured part of the equation. It had energies to spare, as you can tell by going back into those months...I was writing every day, & not all of it was quality.

The mind is a terrible thing to waste. It controls the emotions & works to parcel out the needed energies; sometimes it helps to do what the Red Hot Chili Peppers & Robert DeNiro do (at least they said it in interviews) to prepare for their labors...steer clear of people, places & situations that suck out your energy & upset you emotionally. The Kenyans are masters of spending time doing nothing. When they work, they work. When they rest, they rest. Maybe that's how more developed running nations can defeat the Kenyans & Ethiopians; send every last one of them a high-definition television & two seasons' worth of American Idol, Dancing With The Stars & Lost. Plus wi-fi internet access.

As the individual athlete grows older they have to become more attuned to how their body works; how many times they can race hard, how long it takes to recover. In my humble opinion, I'd rather race well at three or four races, compared to toeing the line every weekend & nursing a boatload of injuries. Hey, it's my money I'm paying. If I want to stay healthy & race until I'm like that old guy who ran the London Marathon at 100 years of age, I'll have to pace myself.

I owe it to my achilles' tendon & my wife. Not necessarily in that order.