Preschool Football

The runner's life requires discipline, sometimes the occasional denial of of life's more-pleasurable pursuits.  But when a Simon's football (you may call it soccer) match and a hash kennel (mis-)management meeting falls on the same afternoon as a workout, common sense states it's better to defer the task and make many (female) family members happy.  Because, like the old phrase says "when Mama (in this case, "Grammy" Suzanne...) ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." 

And this coach is all for happiness.

Four-year-old footballers, like Simon, do not naturally exhibit the same skills as the first-division professionals I've enjoyed watching for the past three decades, with the exception of the one kid who had the "crumpled on the turf" posture at the mouth of the goal down pat, which occurred immediately after the opposing team's score.  The match looked kind of like what happens when an order of french fries is dropped in the parking lot of a Burger King in Florida:  The french fries represent the soccer ball, the seagulls are the players.

So I laughed and cheered both sides for twenty minutes, and marveled at the fun the small fry were having; it was clear they were enjoying themselves.  What they were doing was - for their benefit - a simplified version of football, without corner kicks or offside rules.  Everybody played the entire game, and - save a few handball calls - no real fouls in spite of the two goal mouth dives from that one kid.

"You beat my husband up pretty good on Saturday," said the hash treasurer.

I explained that her husband was as much responsible for his own beating as I.  Suzanne concurred with my assessment of the situation, and suggested "hash cash" could keep him company at the next Saturday morning workout.

She said, "I just started a 'couch-to-five-kilometer' training program at the local running emporium, and all they do is tell us to 'go run.'  I was paired up with a guy who runs slower than I do, and I really don't feel like I'm getting any benefit out of it."

"You couldn't run any faster?"  I asked.

"No.  And what about nutrition?  What about core, stretching, and cross-training?  Sure, they gave us an information sheet, but I feel like I paid for something..."
"More prescriptive?"

"Yes."

"Tell you what I'll do." I said.  "Let's do dinner some Friday evening.  We can talk about all this and find out what you want to get out of a training program.  I'll try to answer your questions to the best of my ability, and point you in the right direction."

The "hash cash's" lament succeeded in winding me up in the manner of a cheap wristwatch, but, because I promised my wife I would not speak ill of local running impresari I made only weak comments.  It wasn't until the following morning as I was preparing for work - amazing what a hot shower (and Tina Turner's "Private Dancer...") can do for encouraging deep thoughts - that it all came to me.  The goal of a Cto5K program isn't that far removed from that of a recreational football program for four year-olds:  Minimize the hard stuff, maximize the fun.  So what if the other team beats you by two goals; everyone got to play, everyone got to chase after the ball, right?  And everybody on the sidelines were cheering for you, right?

In Kenny Moore's biography, Oregon coach Bill Bowerman considered running an act which was as easy as brushing ones' teeth.  Bowerman's protege' Bill Dellinger clarified that belief; running may have paralleled basic dental care, but training was like having ones' teeth cleaned for an hour each day.  It's bad enough that middle and high school physical education teachers, athletic coaches at all levels, and the military service have turned running from a joyous activity into punishment and drudgery.  Sometimes we need to take the activity and restore it back to it's most simple form of placing one foot in front of the other, repeatedly, for as long as we can enjoy it.  When a world record holder in the marathon (Alberto Salazar) recommends running no more than 30 minutes a day for five or six days out of the week, and adding other forms of exercise to build muscle strength and flexibility, there might be something to be said about why we run for longer than that duration.

We run because it makes us happy.  And if we aren't happy, and if we aren't running in a way that makes us happy...

Appearance Can Lead To Reality

Guys - Did you need a hint as to what to get or do for your loved one on St. Valentine's Day? I have a news flash for you: Women and men are different. Don't gasp in horror at this revelation. Yes, it's hard to really wrap your arms around the concept that there is a profound difference between the sexes, not only in the ways in which we think and communicate, but also in the ways in which we exercise.

And I've suffered the outcomes which come from ignorance. Not recently, but during my first marriage. My first wife was a professional when it came to quitting stuff. High school, jobs, relationships, diets, workout programs; she left many well-intended commitments over a three-decade span. Of course, as time passed by she figured out the benefits of focus until task completion. I remember sitting, frustrated, talking with my pastor one Saturday morning over coffee: Why she would sign a one-year contract with a fitness studio, go sit in the sauna for a week, then decide to never go after that? It drove me up the wall to see her throw my hard-earned money (GS-4 pay, working for the VA Hospital, nine dollars an hour) into the rubbish, then complain she wasn't happy with her weight.

I didn't care at the time what she weighed. All I wanted was for her to be happy. My pastor reminded me I had a workout facility in the VA, with motivated fitness professionals surrounding me. I'd finish my duties for the day, change clothes and be in the middle of a good sweat on the treadmill or in an aerobics class in less than fifteen minutes, tops. She, on the other hand, had to make a conscious effort to travel from our little apartment to the fitness studio.

I wasn't buying that it was just the motivation which surrounded me - if I didn't exercise on a regular basis I was going to look like many of the patients I served - as the only reason why I could work out three-to-five days a week and try to maintain weight. It was after a discussion with my fitness instructor, Dr. Q., I figured out the men-versus-women thing was deeper than anatomy and psychology.
She mentioned most men can begin an exercise routine and see the first physiological changes in as little as seven days. Women, on the other hand, need to maintain the routine for at least a minimum of 21 days before the first (subtle?) changes are noticed.

Add the variables of increased caloric intake because of exercise (more common in women than in men), an under-reporting of caloric intake (for which most are guilty), and an (all too common) under-reporting of exercise intensity and duration, many women who start an exercise program are left behind the eight ball before the end of the first month. Then, on top of it, I read recent research which claimed 21 weeks, not 21 days, for physical strength and cardiovascular fitness gains to take effect.

So, many years down the road, I was pleased to see my sister-in-law not only purchase a membership but also the tanning option at the gym where my wife and I regularly work out.

My wife and I talked about Lisa joining the gym, and I said:

'What if a health club added tanning during the first month of a contract membership to ladies? You know as well as I do that we tend to think a little more highly of ourselves when our exterior looks less pasty white. A couple of trips to the tanning booth in the first week or two might be the thing which keeps them coming to the gym during the first month or so. Once you can get them past the first three, four, six months they pretty much have a routine developed, right?'

I realize what I'm saying may run me afoul of my friends who work for gyms, because they make their money on the folks who purchase memberships but don't come in. However, I consider my job to get more people exercising (preferably running, more preferably with me as their coach, but...). A health club membership which has a tanning option, if you're thinking about one...or if you're thinking, guys, about one for your loved one...might get your money's worth. As part of the "weights one day, cardio the next" routine, a slight tan can cause the lady to be more motivated by the slight change in their body.

And sometimes, perception eventually leads to reality...once the motivation kicks in.

If "Mama" Ain't Happy...

"Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music." - "The Prophet," Khalil Gibran (1883-1931)

I've talked a little about how much I presently enjoy my marathon training regimen. I like marathon training...to the approximate level as I enjoy being flayed alive with a rusty straight razor. Thanks to John L. Parker, Jr. for writing that particular analogy. There are benefits & drawbacks to marathon training compared to long-distance triathlon & shorter-distance road racing, two recent pursuits of mine which have temporarily taken a back seat. The drawbacks, quite simply, are that the focus is (almost) strictly on running. Cross-training is a way to let the muscles & joints recover from long miles, little more.

The benefits for me & my house, on the other hand, are multiple. The first time I ever thought about training (or life relationships, for that matter) as a form of economics was long before I even considered studying the social sciences. My first aerobics instructor, Dr. Pat Quigley, used to tell me: 'Michael, life is a budget.' However, I never understood the depth of the meaning until Dr. Lee Hoke (economics professor at The University of Tampa) hit us with Stephen Covey's "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." He didn't go deep into Covey, save for talking about two concepts: Develop a personal mission statement. Consider the emotional bank account.

Covey's emotional bank account is much like a "real" bank account, but you make deposits or withdrawals from family relationships. Meaningful deposits take a conscious effort. Excessive withdrawals can lead to economic & emotional consequences, especially if the apology is not conjoined with a meaningful correction. I have run into three or four relationship situations since I started coaching where the account balance was deep in the red.

It hasn't been me, but it's been close. Even a coach can use a coach.

I've been working with a couple over the past year or few. One, Pat McCrann, from Endurance Nation/Marathon Nation, is a strong advocate of earning what he calls the Spousal Approval Unit. What kills me about the SAU is its indirect relationship to Covey's "Seven Habits."

A baseline training week - the minimum - can be as brief as ten hours. If you think about it that's a little less than 90 minutes a day. Most bosses & family members can hang with that amount of time...in many cases the training needs can be adapted, slid "to the left" or "to the right" on the calendar. During this time of the year, with social functions, parties & holidays, sudden jumps in inclement weather, & so on, a morning on the couch with a cup of coffee & a loved one is an under-appreciated guilty pleasure AND possibly a deposit to the emotional account. Besides, under-training can be more effective than over-training. Especially when ones' spouse/kids/boss are happy.

Two-runner households have special challenges, especially if the pitter-patter of little running shoes also echo through the halls. Some of my friends cycle in & out of "serious" training cycles whose duration depends on the health & success of the partner. In the case of one couple, it's definitely a family affair; even their mother helps out with some of the "mini-thoner" coverage...at least until the little one is old enough to race on her own.

The secret to success in running, in my humble opinion, is that running is a family affair. If you can't remember that truth, remember this:

"If mama ain't happy, there ain't nobody happy."

Law Of Diminishing Returns

Okay, a survey link on the front page of Yahoo! asks what I consider a rhetorical question: What's the key to having the happiest job? Part of me thinks back to the physician/ultrarunner Timothy Noakes' 14 Laws of Training, hidden in plain sight within his weighty tome Lore of Running. (if you want to be a serious runner or effectively guide runners, this text is probably the philosopher's stone of running texts) One of the laws says something to the degree of try to achieve desired athletic performance on the minimal volume of training possible.
Most runners I encounter, however, want to achieve great gains in performance on less than optimal training, or on no training whatsoever. That's like doing no work & expecting a paycheck mailed to your home...even better, direct deposit to your bank account, as a reward. Crazy, no? John Parker, in several of his books, reiterates a painfully obvious fact on performance gain; there is no secret outside of the often heart-rending process of wearing down the outsoles of your running shoes, one molecule of rubber at a time. Really, if there were a pill, potion, powder or plan that could guarantee performance gains 100 percent of the time, it would have been outlawed by now. Even (so-called) performance-enhancing drugs can't replace desire & discipline. Or plain dumb luck.

So, sometimes you have to experiment & find out how much training is too much, & how much training is the most effective...for you. Not everyone has the time or work schedule, or the physical desire to get up at oh-dark-thirty & run six, eight, ten miles, day in & day out. Perhaps they have found their fastest performances were the result of long, easy runs in the afternoon, with one or two speed workouts laced in during the week. Sometimes this also means taking a rest day or an easy day here & there...planned or unplanned, it makes no difference.

I don't think this is necessarily limited to male athletes. I've trained with a couple of female runners who would literally run themselves into the ground & not give an inch during a workout. One was definitely the type that if I were to mention there was a bone sticking out of her leg she would have likely asked me 'and whose bone might that be?' Regrettably, she is Once A Runner, a recreational runner now, as is her husband. Proof sometimes that madness begets madness? No. Birds of a feather? Perhaps.

Do What You Love (So Long, Ryan Shay)

Ka mate, ka mate - Ka ora, ka ora - Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru - Nana i tiki mai whakawhiti te ra - Upane, upane - Upane kaupane - Whiti te ra. (If I die, I die - If I live, I live - This is the hairy man - Who caused the sun to shine again for me - Up the ladder, up the ladder - Up to the top - The sun shines.) - "Te Rauparaha Haka (ca. 1820)"

While I feel great sorrow at the death of Ryan Shay, who apparently collapsed and died from a heart condition at the 9K mark of Saturday's Olympic Trials Marathon, I cannot help but also feel a certain degree of joy...maybe jealousy. It sounds morbid, I'm certain, but I cannot think of a better way for an athlete to go out but while doing the thing they love. It sounds trite and of little weight, but you hear this statement all of the time from family and close friends of many athletes and adventurers who meet their end in the middle of exercising their passion.

Once upon a time, when I was a cyclist (recreational) I joked about wanting to leave this physical existence while descending a mountain slope somewhere in Europe; breeze in my face, pavement under my wheels, sun warming my shoulders, the whole click, it's over concept. Lance Armstrong said it a little better (with the help of Sally Jenkins) in his first book, It's Not About The Bike:

"I want to die at a hundred years old with an American flag on my back and the

star of Texas on my helmet, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle

at 75 miles per hour. I want to cross one last finish line as my stud wife and my ten

children applaud, and then I want to lie down in a field of those famous French sun-

flowers and gracefully expire, the perfect contradiction to my once-anticipated poign-

ant early demise."

Perhaps Shay's death should remind us all to (oh, no, here's the typical pithy statement) live our lives to the fullest. Better yet, live our life like we might pass away during the first thirty minutes of it, without a warning. Hey, man, take a chance: Michael Wardian held two marathon world records (running on a treadmill, running with a stroller) but was seeded 102nd on Saturday. He went out and blasted the first five miles of the course in a pace that was somewhat faster than the rest of the field, got himself some serious television time during the first half-hour. After that, who knows where he was? I'm certain the finish listing has him somewhere. But he did what he felt was the best thing for the day.

Know what you want to do. Do it. And if it isn't making you happy, isn't making your life complete, find what it is that will.

Labor Day, Approaching

I've been opposed on general principles (read: money) to purchasing a satellite radio receiver. It's like purchasing a computer and having to pay for the internet. Oh, you mean I do that!? Never mind.

However, after five years in this town, I've learned a few things:

1. Most, if not all, of the radio stations are owned by a single entity. That means you better like a playlist loaded with country, or contemporary (read: corporate, mindless, tasteless, talentless) music genres. Oh, let me not forget the three religious radio stations.

2. What I used to understand about radio still holds true. Advertising pays the operating expenses for commercial radio. HOWEVER, there are more ads and less "entertainment" on the airwaves. When I turn on a radio I want to hear music or conversation. You can toss a shameless plug in between segments for all I care, but DON'T INUNDATE ME with bull-cr@p.

Memo to self...or memo to spouse: HD or XM for birthday. Or, let's get that inexpensive bike took kit.

Labor Day is this weekend, and I'm far from the nostalgic state of mind I was last year. I guess if the temperatures were closer to 80 degrees than 90 I might begin to think about the approach of autumn. But we're much closer to infernal than autumnal. Track workouts on Tuesday and Thursday evening (ideally) finish at 7:30, which is about the same time the sun goes down.

Positive: Temperature drops nearly ten degrees between start of workout and finish.

Negative: Still warm enough for small bugs to live.

The track's lights did not go on at 6:45 last night, either, which meant dusk approached as we were finishing our last set of repeats. Probably a one-off situation; something I hope doesn't become a more-frequent occurrence.

I'm waiting to tighten up the list of athletes who are training to run the marathon in December...but only for another two days. I mentioned on several occasions via e-mail, in the newsletter, everything but a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night that it is their responsibility to contact me personally (phone, e-mail, face-to-face), and yet, I STILL GET SECOND-HAND COMMUNICATIONS. Once again: Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot, Oscar?

While we're going insane here in the office getting the last of the interviews and daily activity logs collected and beginning to make sense of the numbers, the presence of one of the staff from one of our more-northern detachments has made it fun. I like working with persons who have a sense of humor and aren't constrained by artificial bull-cr@p. Yep, give me a WYSIWYG kind of co-worker, any time.