Being The Window

"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have a tremendous impact on history." - Dan Quayle

My wife has been blessed with an interesting skill. She writes a great deal about seemingly incompatible concepts like modern telephony/communications & their relationiship to anything else under the sun, & she does it with a style which highlights the underdog, the underappreciated, & the sometimes unseen members of the telecom world. She writes & markets to a degree which provides her the opportunity to interview or speak at major telecommunications conferences. Her greatest challenge is not always the naysayers or detractors in the industry, more often it is from the persons whose businesses have directly benefited, some to the tune over a couple of million dollars of income per year, by her efforts. It's particularly galling to hear those persons tell her, 'without me, you would not be who you are today.'

Stuff like that really gets under a guy's skin.

When I write about running & coaching, I try to use my foibles & mis-steps as an illustration of what not to do in their training. More often than not, I also provide these 'sea stories' to my own athletes & hope they will take them to heart. It warms my heart - after the initial fear I am about to be pummeled - to be accosted in a local bar & complimented on what I've done for a particular runner. Mark Twain was reported to have said, 'I can live for two weeks off a good compliment.' But, I've told many a person who has complimented me: 'all I do is provide the workouts.'

Regardless of who the coach is, or how much they're getting paid, it's still up to the individual runner to do the work. I can't go out & run the race for them. If I could, in a number of cases, the outcome might have been a little different. In some cases, I've heard friends & loved ones place all of the credit on the athlete, when I've known well how much hard work their coach put into polishing up raw talent & untapped potential.

This morning, as my wife was talking about something business-related, preparing for a virtual conference, I reminded her all she needed to do was be the window. What makes a window most effective is the fact it is there, solid, but allows light to shine through...an especially interesting analogy during the winter holiday season, when many put up twinkling lights & garland. It's not so much the window that is beautiful, but the things which are placed which draw the onlookers' attention. When we draw too much attention to ourselves we can affect the view through...I think stained glass is marvelous & it makes sunlight look nifty, but I've never seen a stained glass window I could see through.

So, if you know of someone who has helped in some way to make you what you are, take the time to thank them. But don't be fooled into thinking it was all them...or all you.

Your Potential - Bring It!

A frustrating day yesterday - no run in the afternoon and a few less yards in the morning swim workout than I would have liked. I started to whine to myself the old 'I s*ck and it's hot and I'll never get back into the shape I was before I broke my arm a year ago and my achilles hurts and so on and so on and on and on...' mantra. Yeah, the kind of stuff I usually hate to hear from the folks I train. I hate it even more when I'm the one doing the whining, because it's more difficult to place a silver lining on your own dark cloud.

However, since the achilles was sore, it was probably a good thing I took the afternoon off. It wasn't like I did absolutely nothing but lay around and drink beer. I did wrestle with a boatload of pharmacy school notes, books, multimedia, entertainment center items, tables, washer/dryer, etc., belonging to Jason and Laura. It was hot. It took three hours to shove it all into a U-Haul. And it definitely s*cked to be Jason; the dude had to drive the stuff back to Tennessee in a day. I definitely felt for him much more than I did for me. I offered him the opportunity to shower and change into some dry clothes before he took off; I was completely soaked and miserable, so I knew he had to be close to that point. Days like yesterday are good every once in a while. It makes you think long and hard about the silliness of moving all your household belongings in the middle of summer. It reminded me just how good it is to have a couple of college degrees and some ostensibly-marketable skills. It reminded me how good it is to have a choice to work in a location where air conditioning works fifty percent of the time (the main office in Norfolk has worse a/c problems than we do). And it reminded me just how good it is to be able to do this as part of my (nearly) everyday routine. Chuckie "V" had this to say this morning:

I propose that if we were all born without worries of survival (financial and emotional stability and such) and all we had to do all day---indeed, wanted to do all day---was train, only then might we start to reach our athletic potential. Potential is impossible to measure, of course. When I lived at the Olympic Training Center, the physiologists tried to measure it through a nonstop series of tests: VO2 max, muscle biopsies, and the like. But yet we know that such tests don't really do the trick. No numbers can. Heart-rate monitors cannot measure heart. Power meters cannot measure will power. Potential is what you make of it. You're close when you believe you are.

Chuckie was inspired by something Kevin wrote, and in turn has inspired me. So I'm going to steal from Chuckie's blog today, in the hope of inspiring you. This isn't plagiarism, even though we shamelessly borrow from each other. It's research...or when you shamelessly borrow from multiple persons rather than just one. At least that's what they used to tell me in college. While we all rejoice and curse the same sun, Solomon reminds me - whether he wrote it or had someone do it for him; the demands of a hundred wives can take away what little time you might have to write profound thoughts - there is nothing new under the sun.

So no number, or means by which we people can measure things will provide the true measure of a person's greatness or of their potential. Maybe that's why all parents think their child will grow up to be president. There's more inside us than viscera, Vicodin, Valium...and in many cases Viagra...that makes us what we are.

See you at the track. Bring your potential with you.

How Are You, Where You Been?

Sometimes I wonder about the folks who come out, train for a while, then suddenly "fall off the face of the earth." I understand what I call (for lack of a better term) parentism, as well as juggling jobs, home lives, spouses, other commitments, and taking up new and added challenges (Golf!? We're talking golf!?). I've said 'we're not getting paid to do this, so don't make it a job.' One of my newer runners mentioned to me the other night about scout meetings and ball practices that would keep him away. I told him, 'no problem. Make it out when you can; run on your own when you can't. Even one good track workout a week is better than none, as long as you get some easy runs in the meantime.'

What gets under my skin:

First, the assumption I should chase people down. I guess I would be more active in this endeavor if my livelihood were based on their attendance/dues. But I'm not making a living from it. My first few months were about keeping up with everyone, trying to keep them coming out. Now, I try not to take it too personally when they decide to not show for a time. Doesn't mean I don't love them, but I've got business to take care of.

Second, the assumption I should phone/e-mail/visit in case I don't see the athlete once a week. While I maintain a religious undertone when talking about running, I'm not a pastor. Athletes missing practices are not committing a mortal sin. I usually send out an e-mail every week-to-ten days about races, workouts, social functions, so I can be reached by punching the reply key on the e-mail. My voice mail works pretty well, as well as my four e-mail accounts. And with three track workouts, one long and two short road runs during the week, and the Friday night dinner/social, the only way to keep from communicating with me is - like my junior college American History professor said about how to fail his course - with great difficulty. The only way to do it is by avoiding me on purpose.

Third, the assumption I should laud or applaud an athlete's return. I'm pleased to see anyone who's been away a while, but unless the rationale for absence is parentism, work/school or injury/recovery, it's 'glad you're out here, now it's time to get with the program.'

I love each and every person who shows up to train with me; while they may not be the toughest or fastest runners in the area, they all show great potential. And it's neat to see them improve. As they say in Maori: Kia Kaha. Stay Strong.