Refrigerator Door Expectations

Once upon a time there was a young man.  He possessed a keen mind, loved to read, and was - in the words of his maternal grandmother - a bit of a chatterbox.  Unfortunately, his handwriting skills were less-than-stellar.  He could not make the letters look exactly like the ones stapled over the chalkboard; his third grade teacher did not less about his reading comprehension or his verbal ability, she cared only about his penmanship.  She insulted his writing efforts once in front of his classmates, which had the exact opposite effect of her intentions.  He completely gave up on all of his scholastic efforts for the remainder of the year, doing just enough to get by.

The same young man adapted over time, learning to use a typewriter and used neat block lettering for all of his handwriting efforts.  Surprisingly, he decided to become a teacher, and learned early on in his education studies about the work of Robert Rosenthal.  Rosenthal was a professor at Harvard University, who asked in the mid-1960s if the expectations of outside influencers - like teachers, parents, and so forth - could mean the difference between positive and negative outcomes in the household, school, workplace.  Setting a reasonably-high standard, believing the standard could be made, and communicating that belief in many different ways?  Rosenthal learned that teachers who believed their students could achieve had students who could - and did - achieve.  And yes, teachers who doubted a student could succeed were more likely to see that student struggle or fail.

I have a full-page sheet of paper on my refrigerator door with the training plan for the first 22 weeks of the calendar year laid out.  Days where I run, days where I cross-train, rest days and the goal duration to spend during each day's workout session or sessions; all of the information is in black and white.  Since I'm still in the process of building strength, endurance and overall fitness and not focused on a particular race distance, the workouts are straightforward base-building.  Six weeks into the 22, the calendar shows more positive markings; workouts accomplished, intensities met, sometimes even both.  Every filled block is a step in what I hope is the right direction, travel toward the desired goal.

The calendar on the fridge, with its "big picture" notations, are the macro version of my little daily workout spreadsheet.  I don't post mileage or anything quantitative; there are only three types of marks on the calendar, corresponding to a qualitative standard - really good, good, or not-so-good.  One mark reminds me I met both the intensity and duration goals for the day, if I met the duration but not the intensity I place a different mark on the calendar.  If by some reason I didn't work out at all - unless I am sick or traveling - I mark the date with a big, fat "X."  Naturally, that's a "not-so-good" day.

So far, there have only been four of those "X" days.  And a few days where I didn't get the duration or intensity I hoped, because of outside issues.  But I have to admit I've met or exceeded expectations more often than not.  I don't need to scour through the spreadsheet to tell myself things are improving.  And if I feel a little too lazy and start to think about cracking open a beer rather than going for a run, all I have to do is take a look at the "big picture" on the refrigerator door.

Runner? Or Athlete? Depends On The Definition

"I’m an emotional guy, and I’m in control of that emotion, turning it off and on like a faucet. But I’m an athlete above everything. I have to run and ride and move, move, move. I am…myself, not a story of my past." Tom Warren, 1979 Ironman world champion, quoted in 'The Old New Lore of Running' (Scott Tinley, published ca. 2009)

Every person who has aspired at one time or another to write has suffered from writer's block - NOTHING seems to come from the pen; the fingers should be dancing patterns on the keyboard but end up tapping the remote control. This week was one where the remote control felt more of my fingertips than did my keyboard. At least, until a friend posted a comment the other morning:

"I wonder if I'm on pace to even run 200 miles this year! After 21 years of competitive racing, running upwards of 110 miles per week, have I given up the "runner" title? The question is: What allows a person to call themself a runner? A certain amount of mileage per week? Something deeper? Honestly, the main reason why I'm not running is because I have no motivation to run alone. I miss having a group to run with here."

Unlike most of the guys and gals I've worked with in the past, Ryan is one of those "stud" runners many "sorta-fast" runners wish to emulate. He spent a year running with legendary running coach John McDonough at Arkansas, so it's a no-brainer: he's hard-pressed to recreate that kind of environment where he presently lives.

There are not many situations which can compare to scholastic running. The year I spent running at The University of Tampa (a Division II school) was probably the most fulfilling year of my life, not so much because I was running but because I was around a bunch of people who really loved running. I was ten years older than the rest of the team, save for two or three ex-military guys close(r) to my age, but there still was that common bond. The rest of the day was focused on teaching, but the best part was the first two hours of the day; stretching at the track, running on Davis Islands as the sun came up over the water, cool-down strides in the grass, bee-essing over breakfast, etc. After graduation, I ran with the team and the coaches as my work schedule permitted...and most of the time it did, until I moved north.

Ryan said he got into the best shape outside of his college fitness by making a pact with a friend: They agreed to meet for at least one threshhold workout a week. Sure, they did trail runs and long runs together five or six days a week, but there always was that one central workout they would do together. Ryan wasn't training for any specific race distance, but he loved the fact he was accountable to meet with at least one other person. Last summer he coached a youth cross-country program in St. Augustine, which gave him the opportunity to run with several runners at his ability level; being out there with them for the summer, doing the runs, workouts, and strength work kept him sharp, accountable and fit.

Since then, he's been trying to work, save money, get certifications and look for his next home. It naturally infringes on training, but is further limited by his lack of consistent training partners. Ryan lives near another college alumnus but their work schedules don't quite match up. So overall, being a pretty good athlete does have its limitations in training; it's either accept the limitations of training solo...as he told me, he could probably "just shut up and train."

To have runners at ones' ability level does make the prospect of running a workout little less boring. I was going to use the term "daunting," but boredom seems a greater negative influence to me than physical limitation or fatigue. And it's always great to have a Plan B workout in those cases. Ryan's probably going to need a moderately audacious goal, like "six-weeks-to-sub-16-5K-a'la Runners' World" to push him out the door. Ultimately, he says, he would love to get back into 800/1500 track-racing shape; one step at a time.

In John L. Parker's book "Again to Carthage," the follow-up to "Once A Runner," Olympic gold medalist Bruce Denton advises his friend Quenton Cassidy to "live like a clock." That counsel might be the thing Ryan needs while working, learning, earning...and looking for the next phase in his own journey. I told him to think about getting out, enjoying running - even training - without stressing a particular performance goal. Work, professional development, marriage, real world responsibilities; life often transforms that formerly-white-hot focus on running a little closer to gray. And Ryan's not the first top-shelf guy I've encountered who has dealt with the problem. I've seen guys not dropping out as much as scaling back; playing smarter, ensuring the time and mileage they DO invest is truly quality stuff.

It's tougher to recover at 28 than it was at 18. And when we reach 38, or 48, we learn quickly what runs are more damaging than beneficial.

Sometimes we all need a little recharge. It doesn't mean we're "no longer a runner," but at worst we're no longer a "serious athlete." Depends on your definition of serious.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Last Thursday was the first time I stepped on the track to run since the marathon. I did three miles on the treadmill the week before, which was not only painful but discouraging, especially when my heart rate shot up faster for an eight-minute-per-mile pace than it would be for something, er, a little bit more relaxed. I lumbered through the two mile warm-up, as well as some easy striders, but had to shut it all down during the first 300-meter piece. Too much bang bang.
First thought was well, it definitely is not the right pair of shoes for running. So, I went to see the owner of my friendly neighborhood runninig emporium...got into a more-cushioned pair of shoes and went out for a quick trot on the sidewalk. Bang bang bang...still not good. After a brief, animated discussion, we figured out my issue is not just shoe-related, but biomechanical, reinforced by the wrong shoe. When an experienced (under three-hour) marathoner tells you he would not run a marathon in the shoes you used, that's not a good sign. Nothing like getting slapped around by a guy who you give a hundred bucks every couple of months, no?

Great fun over the past weekend. Nothing like sitting on your butt for five hours on the highway, followed by sitting on your butt for 20 hours in a college auditorium learning everything you ever wanted to know about track and field coaching but were afraid to ask. Oh, yeah, add another five-hour drive on the return. There are things I probably never will have to do as a coach...like teach someone how to pole vault. But, you never know, dude. It could happen. I guess if I were the king of track and field I would divide the level 1 course into the relevant areas (sprints, jumps, throws, endurance) like level 2 presently is. However, I guess if you look hard and long enough you can find common threads in all of the disciplines.

Yes, it was a weekend where there was not enough coffee and too much Taco Bell. After two meals there, and one in a Mexican restaurant (all right, I have to admit I would have gone to the Chinese joint further up the way in the strip mall but I couldn't find a parking spot close enough), all I wanted on the way home was something that didn't look like fast food. I chose the wrong exit on Interstate 10 to pull off for a bite to eat, though; of the four restaurants, three of them were fast food joints co-located with gas stations. The only stand-alone joint was a Waffle House kind of place. All right. At least I can get a cup of coffee and a ham-and-cheese omelet and be certain of its origin being somewhere else than a cardboard box.

I have a love-hate relationship with traveling, yet it has to be done if you want to compete outside of your own back yard or learn anything. Maybe someday I'll get it figured out, how to get the best of both worlds - staying comfortable and going places - while I expand my own horizons.

Vampires in Oz, Manatees in the Pool, and Bernie Mac!?

I study nuclear science
I love my classes
I got a crazy teacher, he wears dark glasses
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades

I've got a job waiting for my graduation
Fifty thou a year -- buys a lot of beer
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades

Well I'm heavenly blessed and worldly wise
I'm a peeping-tom techie with x-ray eyes
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades

I study nuclear science
I love my classes
I got a crazy teacher, he wears dark glasses
Things are going great, and they're only getting better
I'm doing all right, getting good grades
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades
I gotta wear shades, I gotta wear shades
(Timbuk 3, 1989)

Just a tip of the (Life Is Good, 'Lefty' embroidered bucket) hat to the kids in Australia. K-6 schoolers are now required to wear sunglasses while out of doors at school. D@mn, that's a far cry from my school days; I would have sold my stepmother to the gypsies to have a pair of Photo-Grey lenses in my Clark Kent frames to make me look the least bit more cool. Some three decades later, I can't even think of going outside without my Tifosi Slip glasses with High Speed Red Fototec lenses. That's what happens when you work in windowless offices for 25 years, children. Remember that when you interview for your first job: No window, no way.

I love Domino's...but only on Wednesday evenings. Regrettably, the results are beginning to show. Well, it's not only that, but a lack of real strenuous activity for a six-week period following the triathlon/fracture. Every time I step on the scale here in the locker room, I either misuse the subjunctive ('...d@mn, I be fat!') or launch into a full-blown attack of Tourette's Syndrome.

Are there benefits to having a few extra pounds this early in the season? Perhaps when I hit the pool...a little bit o' body fat isn't a bad thing, buoyancy-wise. Unfortunately, it does play havoc on hydrodynamics; lean-looking critters like sharks and dolphins tend to move a bit quicker in the water than chubbier, manatee-like forms. While swimming kicks me squarely in the @$$, I am stoked to be back in the pool again. I get a little tired at 75 yards of a 100 yard piece of work, but the turns are getting better and the shoulder (still a little sore and less than mobile) is a little stronger each morning. Twenty seconds of panting after a 100-yard piece notwithstanding (d@mn that cardiovascular system...but it's improving too), there's nothing like feeling the flow of water over the soles of your feet, especially when you're dragging a pool buoy. And yes, chlorine is addictive.

There ought to be a law, and if one exists, someone should go to jail: Why are stupid television programs played in the early afternoon? Yesterday, in the later half of my 'easy' 8-mile run at the YMCA, I was grooving along to the 1970's Muzak and making like Richard Simmons, yep, I was 'Sweating to the Oldies,' baby, when a young lady came in and HAD to turn on the friggin' television. At that point in the afternoon I might have put up with 25 minutes of Fox News (another oxymoron, just below 'fun run'), but noooooooo, she had the audacity (stupidity?) to put on what looked like The Bernie Mac Show. I'm depriving my brain cells of oxygen over here and you want to put that $#!+ on the television!? What are you thinking? Oops, one too many words in that sentence. Are you thinking?