Suck It Up, Buttercup?

"Things are seldom what they seem, Skim milk masquerades as cream; Highlows pass as patent leathers; Jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers..." 'Buttercup' in "HMS Pinafore" (Gilbert & Sullivan)

We athletes are a picky lot.  We'll travel hundreds of miles to a destination race even when a good event is in our backyard.  We pay loads of our hard-earned money to register, spend much of our limited leisure time to prepare...  We show up on the day, nervous and prepared to get the event over with, and more often than not, hope the race director has exerted due diligence. 

Usually they have.  There are great events, well-prepared and well-staffed, which leave nothing to chance.

Unfortunately there are still people in the endurance sport world that fail to leave nothing to chance.  In some cases it's not necessarily because of malevolence (by far the worst reason) or ignorance (the next-worst).  Race director certification courses promulgated by national governing bodies and associations have remedied a majority of the knowledge shortfalls, and stronger sanction processes are weeding out the greed-mongers.

But I still worry about the "cut-and-paste" persons.  Those are the folks mean well but are willing to let quality slide a little here and a little there.  Just a little.  Rather than take the extra thirty minutes to complete a particular form from scratch they'll cut-and-paste the information from the previous years' event into the approval forms for the next edition. 

I've been just as guilty, especially in my real work.

And, rather than exercise due diligence and take a closer look to see if things have changed, the reviewer (who sometimes also need to be checked) places their stamp of approval and moves it forward along the chain of custody. 

Next thing you know, an athlete who did wrongly use performance-enhancing drugs but gets off on a technicality.  Or an athlete is seriously injured or dies because what was on the paperwork was not what was happening in real life.  Those are some profoundly hard situations.  What about something a little less life-altering, like something agreed upon doesn't get done.

If it adversely affects you what do you do?  Do you suck it up and drive on?  Do you try to get to the bottom and make certain, to borrow from one of my favorite rock and roll tunes you "don't get fooled again?"

I guess if it was only me I'd suck it up.  Actually, no.  It it affects my reputation I wouldn't let the issue go.

So there.

Fun With A Capital "F"

"'Coach,' can you tell us some tips how to run today?"

The question was new for a number of reasons:  First, it was not coming from an athlete I had advised in the past.  Second, it was not coming from an adult athlete.  Lastly it was coming from my grandchildren.

That's right.  The grandchildren.  Both the six-year-old and the three-year-old...and their parents...address me as 'Coach,' but that's a story for another sitting.

I smiled and calmly gave them the advice of ultrarunning legend Walt Stack ("start slow, then taper off"). Their "Grammy," however, rarely listens to the totality of my coaching.  She thought I told them to start slowly and pick up the pace near the end.  However, since it was the kids' second-ever fun run the emphasis was on fun with a capital "F."

Some nine minutes later I could tell they had fun, because it was the first time I got to see them run.  If not for five days of flu-like symptoms I probably would have run along with one of them.

"Why aren't there more fun runs and kid-focused events?"  Suzanne asked.  I stopped my e-mail reading. She had opened up her laptop to search through running club event calendars and was busily writing event dates down.

I took a deep breath, then shared my own perceptions: "First of all you have to follow the money.  Who put on today's event?  What expense did they put into it? And, most of all, what will they get out of it?"

Some cities or running clubs are more kid-friendly or family-friendly when it comes to events and such.  Others give little more than a wink and a nod.  It probably has more to do with a club's or sponsor's ability to take the pulse of the surrounding community and decide to do the greatest good for the largest constituency.

I pointedly reminded my wife that kids are not (necessarily) primary consumers.  While their interests might influence parents to a small degree, it is the parent or adult family member who has the real purchasing power.  While the child might think I'm the coolest for giving them a trinket it's their parent or responsible adult family member I want to bring their money through my doorway.

If the culture which surrounds a club/race is more beer-drinking and adult-flavored socializing than family-oriented - and there are many clubs/events which focus more on the social than the athletic - it is a strong possibility families are not going to bring their kids to runs.  I can think of a handful of popular local run events to which I would never, ever take my grandchildren. If they're going to see adults drink beer it's going to be family members acting in a responsible manner.

I have a friend who works with youth athletes, mainly track, and when I've received a phone inquiry from a parent I've sent the parent his general direction.  In spite of the fact I've been background-checked into the boards so many times I wear hockey pads to my real job, USA Track and Field adds insult to injury and ask for youth coaches to endure one more round of hoop-jumping.  With the amount of bureaucracy above and beyond what the typical club-level coach endures (being a former bureaucrat I know useless bureaucracy when I see it), I decided to not advise or coach any runners under the age of 16.  Yes, even the older youth athlete still has the occasional "little league" parent for a year or few - the college freshman chaperoned by either mother or sibling, the grandparent who asks for your advice within earshot of the runners' present coach - but in most cases the athlete will make decisions for themselves.

I tip my hat in the general direction of the men and women who give of their time and energies to make running a sport which is more than a punishment for ball sports athletes.  And I hope my grandchildren get the chance eventually to see "Coach" at a performance level a little more close to his old self...perhaps they'll see a person who just so happens to like running for its own reward.

Resolution? No. More Like Goals.

Back in the days of the old Emerald Coast Racing Team, our group would get together on Thanksgiving morning for a six-to-eight mile easy run. It was a nice way to kick off the season of feasting and sharpen up a little for the last 5K race of the year. Some time in the middle of the run we would chat about goals for the coming year; what marathon or half-marathon we wanted to run, what 5K goal time we wanted to beat in the spring...stuff like that. And even now, years after that group's dissolution, I still like to think about the accomplishments of this year and the challenges of the next, especially in the realm of running.

Not surprisingly, the topic of New Years' resolutions came to the surface while "chatting" with a few friends on a common social media site. Most of the resolutions seemed run-of-the-mill and typical for citizen athletes, with some ambition here and there. And that's a good thing.

I wrote a post about a year ago, titled "Resolved Not To Resolve," in which I swore never to engage in the overambitious, somewhat nebulous and somewhat self-defeating gesture of proclaiming a New Years' resolution. Suzanne, my wife, would probably say she's perfect as she is and wouldn't change a thing about me. The fact love is blind is good. Very good. I often hope, as a coach, friend, writer, co-worker, teacher, and supporter of all things endurance-based, to live a life that makes my fellow man see me the same way my dog sees me.

However, I'm still not going to make a resolution for the coming year, because that would suggest the fact I've failed at one or more things, slacked-off in a particular area, and decided to redouble my efforts to return to a former state of grace. Instead, I'm going to consider them as publicly-declared goals for the coming year. I hope each of you can find inspiration in one or more of the following categories:

1. Find an event, a race distance, or a venue beyond the familiar. Some places are notable for the (over-)abundance of a single event distance, or the same course every month. A friend is directing an event which consists of seven marathons in seven days between Christmas and New Years; she told me all of her participants are coming from outside the immediate area. The 5,000-meters (more or less) is king here.

When Suzanne plans a business trip, she now checks race calendars and hash kennel web sites with the same level of scrutiny as she does hotel accommodations and airline fares. If she can fit in a race, it's all that much more worthwhile. If I can't go she tries to bring me back a race shirt. If there's a really good race she asks me to consider taking time off. This year, for me, the trip race is a half-marathon in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada's capital city.

2. Give back to the community. Running is fun. Running clubs are fun. Running club politics, not so much. But that doesn't mean you can't help fold t-shirts at a packet pick-up for a race, or hand out water at an aid station. There are jobs so far back in the shadows that you may never hear someone complain, but without it the race director ends up with a half-dozen additional gray hairs.

This autumn I've taught a friend to measure courses; he gets a progressive percentage of the proceeds. If the race is for a non-profit we donate a portion of the cost back to the beneficiary (Thank you, Suzanne, for suggesting this!). Our second serious measurement job together was for a non-profit, which led to a race sponsorship, and our company's logo on the event shirt.

The national governing bodies for road racing (USATF) and triathlon (USAT) are always in need of volunteer officials to support their efforts. Nobody who gets into this makes a lot of money, much less a living, but it's - again - one of those jobs which someone has to do to give everyone else the chance to run.

3. Take care of unfinished business. A triathlon in Panama City Beach sent this writer to the emergency department for five hours a couple of years ago. The experience was enough to get into my head (not to mention my wallet) and stay there until the same time I was about 400 yards into a certain lake some five months later.

We all have one race or more that's kicked us in the chops. This year could be the year for payback. What do you have to do to make it happen? What kind of focus is it going to take? Might it involve an investment of time or a small amount of money? What's it worth to you?

4. Bring someone into the fold. I've always considered running to be the most democratic of sports. Even the most biomechanically-inefficient of us can participate, given a pair of shoes which does not damage us. The vast majority of elite runners I've met have been gracious and kind; there are jerks in the community, but no different than in "real life."

As human beings we're all social creatures. While there are people who prefer to train alone, there's still a need to be considered part of a community, even if on the periphery. Most running clubs can be selective, if they wish, about their membership, but I prefer to think the deepest circle of hell is reserved for those (social running groups) who willingly exclude others from their rolls...for no good reason.

(Forgive me, that was a "soapbox" moment.)

It might mean taking a walk with someone who doesn't run much. It could be running farther back in the pack at a 5,000-meter race. Or something drastic and out of the ordinary. Let your imagination, er, run wild. If I can accomplish all four of these goal areas I have no doubt there will be at least a few more happy people in the running community. Perhaps even in the community as a whole. What "big, hairy, audacious" goal have you slated for the new year?

Here's to a safe, mileage-filled, healthy and successful 2012!

Sometimes, Gratitude...

Once a week, for the past four years, I've taught a study-skills and test-taking seminar as part of my "real" job. The presentation method, as many who read this blog (or the articles which often come from this blog) might guess, is a blend of storytelling and instruction.

For the most part, I've enjoyed the time in the classroom; every group of 25-to-65 students - the vast majority young enough to be my child - presented its own unique "terrain" on which I take a brief 60-to-90 jaunt (back) into the academic world. Not every one of them needed to hear what I felt like saying. Strangely enough, some of them wanted to know a little more about road running or triathlon than how to beat a multiple-choice test.

This morning I received a note from the indoc staff. Curriculum additions mandated by the persons in charge of Navy training, only three miles down the street, left no room to add this (perhaps the last) hold-over from the Navy's Revolution in Training.

The change was eventual. I've been through three revisions, three cubicles, two commanding officers, two supervisors, a reduction-in-force, a defunct survey database, and a cycle in training delivery methods from instructor-led to self-paced...and back...since I started teaching this seminar. I have to admit a sense of gratitude that it is finally over.

Steven Covey, in "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People," says the first habit effective persons cultivate is to begin activities with the end in mind. I think he was talking "end state," not necessarily "end date."

Sometimes we complete a target event (marathon, half-marathon, triathlon, just to name a few) and between the time when the euphoria departs and the muscle soreness arrives we get the athletic version of the "existential dilemma": 'I completed a (blank)...now what?' Could this dilemma exist because we don't like empty schedules and blank calendar spaces? Mary-Chapin Carpenter, in "The Long Way Home," sings that many people are driven with the need to '...gotta go, gotta be, gotta get somewhere..." We don't take the time to appreciate what is now in our mental and emotional rear-view mirror; negative or positive.

So now it looks like I have an extra hour in my calendar. I'm not necessarily ready to fill in the blank with anything, at least for a couple of weeks. It's a little extra daylight time...something else for which I can be grateful.

A Little Is Better Than Nothing

Ever have that sneaking suspicion, especially a couple of weeks out from your target event, that EVERYTHING is bound & determined to keep you from doing those last few killer workouts you KNOW are going to give you that very good day when it's all said & done? If it isn't the work schedule, it's the house. If it isn't the house it's the spouse. If it isn't the spouse it's the dog. If it isn't any of those things it's going to be something completely out of the ordinary...say, alien abduction, radical sex change operation of a best friend, or...well...I think you get the picture.
Yep. Same goes for me. But now as I've become older, perhaps a bit more fragile, I've almost learned to accept those less-than-planned interruptions as the Almighty's way of asking me, 'dude, aren't you supposed to do something like a taper before your event?'

Those of you who have a more formal conversational tense with heavenly occupants can add King James-style suffixes as needed, so the phrase would be more like: 'Dudeth, wiltst thou not taketh a fortnight of relative leisure, lest the conditions of thy coming triathlon smite thee in the manner which didst nearly taketh thy life from thee in Panama City?'

But then I find the Almighty can be a runner's or a triathlete's best friend. Sometimes those unplanned-for days, or those little interruptions which encourage you to do a 30-minute session when you had 60 minutes inked-in on the training plan, make you cut out the unnecessary junk & get right to the meat of the work.

And you never know, it might even score you points with your spouse, your boss, your dog (well, what I've learned, not the dog) and even save you from injuring yourself.

"I, like God, do not play with dice & do not believe in coincidences." - "V" (Hugo Weaving), in "V For Vendetta"

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).

Give Back

Fresh back from the third of three trips this month; one good reason why I stayed home last weekend rather than going to a local trail run. It was a wonderful time for my wife and me; her first opportunity to meet my (closest) family, my first opportunity to see family in about four years. The last time we all got together like this, my nephew was graduating from high school. This time he was graduating from the Naval Academy.
There was no lack of social activities during Commissioning Week; a pace which, while dizzying for graduates and families, provided many opportunities to say thank you. Dan (now Ensign Dan!), his mother, and his sponsor family managed to organize a couple of barbecues and dinners (and yes, there was no want for beer!) to thank each of the far-flung constituents for sending themselves to Naptown for a few days at a time each year, and sending their youngsters to Canoe U. for four years.
Small price to pay, I guess, for a taxpayer-paid technical education.

So, what does this mean to the individual athlete, especially the one who might care to read this?

How many times have you been at a running event, or participated in an open-water swim, or a triathlon, and complained about the lack of volunteer support at the event, such as 'not enough persons to tell you where to turn on the course,' 'under-manned or - worse - unmanned aid stations,' and the like?
Have you ever thanked the nameless volunteer who handed you those iced sponges on that 80-plus-degree day? Have you wondered why posting the results took 30 minutes longer than the race director originally intended, or why the award ceremony was delayed?
It's so simple to look at an event and figure out the shortcomings, complain, and tell your friends how fouled up the organization is...it's more challenging to offer your help to a race, especially when there's no chance you will be recognized...more likely you'll receive somewhere along the lines of one to three sharp kicks in the backside from the participants for your perceived incompetence.

Even running and triathlon clubs (and probably lots of other civic organizations, for that matter) suffer, at a larger level, from this challenge. They ask their members to give back a small bit of themselves to the community, but fall prey to a number of organizational pitfalls:
Data and Feedback - Most clubs call for volunteers through newsletter appeal, but few utilize an active approach to draw them in, track the amount of time they labor, or (worst of all) recognize their efforts on a regular basis. It doesn't have to be a gold watch; a public thank you can be worth its weight in gold. I think it was Mark Twain who said something to the extent of, 'I can survive for two weeks on a compliment.'
The RRCA has a volunteer thank you program that ranges from a certificate of recognition for 2,000 hours of service, to national awards for president, editor, club writer, and members whose work focuses on womens' running, youth running, road race of the year...and the list goes on.
Processes - I served on a club board with the goal to ensure local race courses were all USATF-certified. Once on the board, I found myself tangled in what seemed to not have much to do with running; the board was approaching the same issues every month without resolution. And any kind of suggestion to change something needed almost a complete consensus of the board members in order to withstand the withering flame of disagreement from club officers. (NOTE - PERCEPTIONS, WHILE NOT NECESSARILY REALITIES, WERE REAL ENOUGH FOR THIS WRITER) Board members were also expected to volunteer at every local club race. There were precious few volunteer jobs to be accomplished immediately before or after a race for athletes who wanted to run and were willing to volunteer.
Sometimes there needs to be a freedom for willing volunteer workers to spread their wings and make a few mistakes...there are areas where long-standing, experienced members can mentor and teach some tricks of the trade or provide lessons learned. But, in order to develop future leaders, sometimes you have to let them lead.
Incentives - It's possible to burn-out volunteer crew by calling on them to work every race in the same job, providing the same reward of many kicks in the behind...as well as the race t-shirt, bagels and beer after the race and nothing else. Club program can unintentionally operate at odds with each other: If a club has a grand prix series consisting of all its races and does not take volunteer activity into account or requires all of its races to be scored, athletes are more likely to value the incentive of a grand prix award higher than that of the race shirt, bagels, beer, etc. And, going back to the data and feedback, if the club is not honoring or recognizing volunteer workers, then there's little incentive to sweat out on the roadside.
Everyone wants a pat on the back. Some race directors and clubs are better than others in this area. But it might help to keep in mind whether you're crippling your club's education and leadership development focus by not providing some kind of incentive.

The first three are things that fall squarely on the shoulders of a club. The next three are focused more on the individual member:
Motives - This is the classic 'what's in it for me' area. There are persons who want the roar of the crowd, the desire to tell people what to do, or the love of the game. Just as every individual is unique, so are their motivation. A club volunteer coordinator might be able to tap their friends or acquaintances on a weekly basis for about a year, maybe two, but after that it's possible the potential volunteer will run the other way when they see their friend, the volunteer coordinator coming. The volunteer coordinator has their motives, too...the one who taps their closest friends without thinking about the new guy/gal who just moved into town might want to keep the party to themselves.
A smart club will find a way to check the pulse of their club; who has latent or unused talents, who knows someone who knows someone, who has the neat idea or a passion for something that hasn't been tried in years because nobody wanted to take it on, also.
Skills - There are folks who won't volunteer to serve on the board of a club or work a race because they don't feel they have the talents necessary to do anything other than grunt work...and they don't want to be put to work all of the time as labor of opportunity. These are the folks...once you hear them say 'you know, I'd love to help out with (fill in the blank), but I don't know how to do it...' Hook them up with one of the elder statesmen of the club, start a mentoring program. Many hands do make light work.
Education - In case you didn't know about any of this...now you do.

I'm not saying we as athletes need to all quit running races, but it is our responsibility to give something back to the sport. Because eventually we are going to have to stop...I hope it's not for a very long time...and I want to know there's still going to be a place for younger persons to play.