Keep It Simple, Part II

“It can scarcely be denied that the supreme goal of all theory is to make the irreducible basic elements as simple and as few as possible without having to surrender the adequate representation of a single datum of experience.”  Albert Einstein (1879-1955), during a lecture, Oxford, June 1933

Einstein’s goal of achieving simplicity without loss of the necessary holds true, especially for runners.  Figure out the amount of data you absolutely need to track progress, after that it's simple to gradually acquire the stuff which works best, or to steer clear of the stuff which won't work at all.

First, let me explain that I’m not slamming brick-and-mortar running specialty stores.  If given the choice between a major retail sports store, a locally-owned/operated running specialist and an interlink-based provider I'd much rather deal with the guy who's paying local property taxes and hiring passionate young men and women from my town's high school or local college; someone who really has some skin in the game when it comes to the running community.  Usually that's a person who's going to do the right thing.  But you can tell when a shopkeeper has become too-mercenary when (new) runners toe the line at a local 5-kilometer race with a four-bottle hydration waist belt.

I have a love-hate relationship with the consumer grade GPS receiver.  As a course measurer I love to use the GPS to provide ballpark estimations of where my intermediate splits will fall on the race course, and to get latitude/longitude references in those rare instances when no permanent reference point exists.  The hatred comes when runners who have no understanding of the necessary technological limitations of the GPS try to tell me a course is "too long."  Upload a run to Google Earth and you'll see some places you never thought you could run.  Runners who do most or all of their workouts on a treadmill or a track most likely aren't going to need GPS devices; there are times I would dare to say that for most a GPS is little more than a very expensive running watch.  I've also played with running watches which used accelerometers those little pods attach to the running shoe and track how fast and how far you ran, without the need for all those satellites.  They're a little expensive and the batteries tend to die at the wrong time, but they're very reliable if all you need is distance and speed.  If all your courses are known distances, choose a running watch or a heart rate monitor. 

Good ballpark distance figures for runs on sidewalks, roadways, and now even trails can be mapped out on map programs like MapMyRun, GMaps Pedometer, the USA Track and Field "My Running Routes" program, and Google Earth (which requires a little more patience).  There are a few disadvantages to these programs:  When flat photographs are used to try and measure distance on a rounded surface (our world) there can be varying degrees of inaccuracy; a half-marathon course I measured last year proved this to be true.  As a plus, MapMyRun allows runners to track workouts they've run on a particular route, and even gives runners the ability to print out courses...if you purchase a membership.  Go on the cheap like me and you best be able to read what can best be called “gibberish.”  A race director sent me his MMR files last year and all the street names were “Asflkue Ib.”  And worse.

You'd rather not wear a heart rate monitor, you say?  My wife is one of the many who would agree with you.  Some folks don't like to have that fabric/plastic strap around their chest, especially guys who like to run shirtless (I like data, therefore I run with a shirt).  Those persons who still want to check their intensity every so often can purchase a watch which has finger contact plates; place the two fingers of the non-watch wearing hand (of course…) on the plates and the heart rate reading appears in seconds.  Runners who use fairly modern treadmills with heart rate equipment attached can most likely forego this and use the handrail plates, which are about as accurate as chest strap monitors. 

You Luddites can lay a couple of fingers along your carotid artery on the left side of the neck immediately after the run is completed, or gauge your effort on a scale of one to ten, where one aligns to ”am I awake?” and ten means ”if I take another step my chest will explode!”  Some of the really good heart rate monitors will not only break down your workout effort by average heart rate, but by amount of time spent at a particular intensity level.  Entire books have been written about training by heart rate, and quickly leaves the beaten path to go into the weeds of the “should I use the ‘220-minus-age’ formula to calculate my heart rate?” question, the “male-versus-female max-heart-rate” debate (which my wife and I have had on many occasions), and so on.  Surprisingly enough, physiology researchers found a strong correlation between perceived effort (that “one-to-ten-scale” thing) and percentage of maximum heart rate; a perceived effort of “five” was found to be right around the fifty-percent of maximum heart rate point, and so on.

So now we've talked about the simple "where," "how far," and "how hard" of running.  I'll talk in the next installment on what to do with that information.

Keep It Simple - Part I

“It can scarcely be denied that the supreme goal of all theory is to make the irreducible basic elements as simple and as few as possible without having to surrender the adequate representation of a single datum of experience.” 

Albert Einstein (1879-1955), during a lecture, Oxford, June 1933

When is the last time you walked into your local running emporium to purchase a pair of shoes?  In a perfect world, if you’re like me, the duration from arrival-to-purchase is brief; I know (down to three makers/styles) the shoe I need.  I don’t need to try them on or do a brief jog in them.  Just set the box on the counter and swipe my American Express card.  Thanks, and I’ll see you in about ten weeks.

My $500-per-year running shoe habit probably covers a little less than 1/1000^th of a store proprietor’s yearly expenses.  My few gizmos, gadgets, and apparel - thank heavens - have longer life spans.  The entry-level runner is more likely to be welcomed with open arms into "SHOES 'R' US" than frugal/cheap runners like me.  "GAIT-O-RAMA" associates love to see the person who just got finished reading the “five weeks to a faster 5K” or “crush your first marathon” article in the glossy running magazine or on the interlink.  There's nothing like seeing the newbie runner drool as they finger their way through the jogger-porn and look with longing at advertisements for the newest electronic training gadget, or hydration system, or symphony-quality earbuds.  There are benefits to many of the apparel items, multifunctional watches, post-run recovery gadgets and technological “nice-to-haves,” but Murphy’s Law posits that the higher-ticket item leads to a greater and more irrational dependence.  The more dependent the runner becomes on them, the more likely they will either go missing the day before the race - requiring a very expensive replacement during the race expo - or die/malfunction on the day of said race.

(If you have considered participating in a triathlon, I advise you to NOT buy any expensive technological gadget, especially one which plays music or speaks to you on the run.  Trust me.  You’ll either thank me or the referee who does not have to assess a penalty later.  But I digress.)

I’ve killed music players, had pace/distance/heart rate/training tracking gadgets malfunction beyond all recognition (I think the technical term is “FUBAR”), and slunk away like a hound caught piddling on the living room carpet as my wife discovered a portable hydration bladder-turned-petri dish.

Einstein’s goal of achieving simplicity without loss of the necessary holds true, especially for runners.  Do you need a fancy wrench set to tighten or loosen a bolt when a pair of Vise-Grip pliers might work as well?  It all depends on how many times you plan to do the job.  If it’s a one-shot deal - or (like triathletes) we’re trying to find out what we really need early on - the odds are good we can use more-simple tools.  Once you figure out what you can live with/without, then we can gradually acquire the stuff which works best for us.

The simplest needs for every runner regardless of the distance or the coach are a training plan, a way to measure distance, a way to figure out how long they have run.  There needs to be a place to store all this information, as well as the effort expended and how soon another pair of shoes will be needed.  I’ll talk more about the simplest measures of distance, time and effort in the next installment.

Hell Freezes Over, Sort Of

"For the record, we never broke up; we just took a 14-year vacation..." - Glenn Frey, 1994

I've coached a small group of (as few as three to as many as a dozen) adult runners for six years, in the classic "stand on the side of the track" as well as the "in the pack" style.  Each style has its benefits and drawbacks; coaching revealed me at my best and my worst.  If an aspiring author were to write it without the benefit or hindrance of this blog it would most likely either look like a Charles Dickens ("best of times, worst of times") tale.  Maybe not.  More likely in the style of a Stephen King ("...heeeeere's Johnny!") screenplay.  As long as Jack Nicholson isn't playing me, I'm all right.

Coaching is stressful, especially if you feel the need to prove to athletes that the training will never get "boring," (news flash:  it will, get used to it...) or, worse yet, when a symbiotic relationship with a running emporium (''...you refer runners to me for training, I send them to you for shoes and gear...') transforms into "competition."  Add to the stress a pair of achilles tendons made cranky by too much hard training and not enough recovery, and life becomes a misery.

So, I took a bit of a holiday.  I retired.  I became a "gentleman" coach; a "quasi-guru" with a limited and non-paying clientele.  Not surprisingly, people "suddenly" become more interested in training when you're not available.  It's no different than the difference between when you're single and when you finally find that "soul mate;" every other person who otherwise would not have given you the time of day if your watch had stopped cold dead wants something to do with you.

Last weekend I decided, against my better judgment, to hang the shingle again.  I don't know why, other than perhaps the moon was full, the beer was cold, my tendons hadn't barked at me for a month, and the person who asked me seemed to be genuinely interested. 

This time, however, things will be different.  I have nothing to prove to anyone who shows up.  Except for the fact I can give them a good product at a reasonable price.  They will pay, I will coach, and they will work.  Seems simple enough to me.

Hubris, Humble Pie, and Just Desserts

A little over a year ago, Pat Williams, the president of the Orlando Magic, joined a group of state representatives and board members of the Road Runners Club of America for a luncheon meeting. One of the major takeaways from that luncheon speech I got was to read something on a daily basis. "What kind of reading?" said Williams. He was not the slightest bit concerned with the material as long as it was something we enjoyed. My wife, Suzanne, has told me she can learn something, even from a science fiction story. I, on the other hand, prefer to pick up a book which has something directly to do with what I want to learn. Sometimes you find when you close the book at the end you learned something far different than your initial expectations.

My most recent completed books on the Spanish Civil War and the life of John Belushi varied in the "surprise" factor. I knew little about the struggle which served as the "warm-up" to World War II, and quite a bit about the man I like to call the "real Last Samurai."

This week, I started in on the autobiography by foodie/chef/traveler/party animal Anthony Bourdain, "Kitchen Confidential." I was drawn to Bourdain by his snarky commentaries from his Travel Channel program, "No Reservations," but couldn't justify the read sooner because I really wanted to learn something else. Silly me. I'm three chapters into the book and love it. Bourdain describes his his second summer in New England's restaurant business in the same way I have entered my first workout with a new training group; naive as hell.

More often than not, hubris at the beginning of the workout usually is the appetizer for a full-course meal of humble pie, crow and just desserts. With a to-go bag.

Open your mouth to say how simple a workout is? Did that after a two-mile road loop around the perimeter of the U. Tampa campus during the early spring of my junior year. I was hanging tough at the back of the pack; found out minutes later from the team captain the loop was only a warm-up. Three or four 1200-meter repeats later (I cannot recall exactly how many; it might have been closer to five.) my attitude was much more humble. When I came back the next day ready to work, truly ready, it was the first step on a long road to being a runner.

We had people who you would never thought would stick it out; we had (seemingly-)motivated people slip and slide away. I still have a photo on the wall of my team from the autumn of 2000; a dude named Greg came out to one workout, received a uniform, and stood in the team photo. After that workout, Greg was never seen or heard from again. As small as that campus was it would have been an amazing feat if he had not been seen by any of the dozen guys...or the dozen girls, for that matter.

Three years later, I "ordered" the same "hubris with a side order of suffering" during a late-November evening workout of repeats on a grass loop behind a football stadium. You would think human beings are smart enough to not make the same kind of mistake twice.

Well, it wasn't the same kind of mistake; more like the same mistake, just later in the workout.

When a coach talks about perceived effort in a workout, they usually mean it's the athlete's perception. The hardest lesson to teach, especially to the new athlete, is that their "70-percent effort," for example, may not be the same speed as someone else's "70-percent effort." The second hardest lesson to teach is to preserve their energy until they are certain the workout is soon to be concluded. Run like the second coming of Prefontaine for two sets and suck wind in the third? If I had a dollar for every athlete who's done that, I'd retire wealthy.

So, if you're going to your first training session with a group, take the time to ask the group leader or coach about what to expect. Most will be good enough to communicate to you if a cautious approach is necessary for the first few workout sessions.

And make certain to take a "to-go bag."

The Big Plan B

*BEEP*

That was the low battery warning signal from my (formerly) trusty Garmin 310XT GPS receiver. The sound was immediately followed by a slight buzz, silence as the receiver shut itself off, & an unprintable comment from my mouth. I guess it wouldn't have been such a bad thing if not for the fact I was driving out to run a tempo run with a group on a Wednesday evening.

My wife asked, 'do you have a charger in the car?'

'My charger, unfortunately, is attached to my computer back at the house,' was my reply. As we continued the 20-minute drive I was stewing in my own juices of stupidity. I know I put the receiver on the charger the previous evening, so how could this be? I resigned myself to the thought of going out for what former triathlete (now triathlon coach) Chuck "Chuckie V" Veylupek calls a 'caveman run.' This would be an acceptable compromise. I took a deep breath, let it out, & returned to conversing with my wife about life, the universe, & everything. You know, the kind of stuff married couples talk about when there's nothing else to do...wink, wink, nudge, nudge...

My wife then pulled out her new smart phone to check her voicemail & realized her phone had been off all day. She had a little trouble turning the phone on & assumed the battery was dead. I managed to reset it, & then realized, 'hey, these smart phones have GPS. If I download a run mapping program (like iMapMyRun) I should be able to keep track of the pace I'm supposed to do for this tempo run.' So, with precious few minutes left before the group was scheduled to leave on the run I tried to download the software. However, I couldn't get WiFi or set up the phone in time to download. That's where the ability to "Plan B" a workout is a valuable skill.

When talking about training I repeatedly have borrowed the John Lennon song line: 'life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.' This is so true as a runner or as a coach. I can lay out a training schedule in macro for 16, 18, 20 weeks out from a race, but more often than not it's going to get adapted, truncated, or...worst of all...pitched in the wastebasket as life takes hold of the stick & throttle. Even the micro level of an evening's (scheduled) track workout gets adapted; heavy cranes & lighting equipment, soccer matches & "facility fascists" can take up part or all of the track & leave an inexperienced (or unprepared) runner - or coach - wondering what to do as a "Plan B."

While in a two-year internship with the Navy I spent periods of time ranging from two weeks to two months at training commands. The assignments had the obvious drawbacks of living out of a suitcase, with access to hotel treadmills, & so on. But I learned how to adapt my training to the conditions. During a two-week assignment to Orlando I learned that light poles along this nice long stretch of road near my hotel were set at approximately 50 yards. So, all I had to do was count the number of light poles for my interval workouts; run three at 5K pace, walk one to recover, repeat six times, jog eight poles...I'm certain you get the message.

Frank Shorter once was quoted as saying 'hills are speed work in disguise.' So, running up a section of hill or bridge for a period of time (or distance, if you know it!), then jogging easy or walking down can provide a great workout. A 300-yard hill near the track facility where we train has three points marked on it; if a soccer match is going to keep us off the track for most or our entire workout I can always go down the hill. Sometimes the soccer matches are not interrupting; I'll do a set on the hill just to break up the monotony.

Training by perceived effort for a long enough period can help a runner develop a sense of pace; after a while you know what a nine-minute per mile pace feels like, as well as an eight-minute pace, & so forth. The most important thing in understanding pace sense is to know how a particular pace FEELS. I always marveled at my coach's pace sense when we would go out on easy runs during the weekend. I had purchased my first heart rate monitor/foot pod combination & was geeking out checking our pace during one run. He asked me at one point what my heart rate was; I looked at my wrist, then told him, to which he replied, 'yeah, I figured that. We're at the right pace.' Sometimes, it is safer to not ask how they do it. They just do it. I've got a few paces pretty well nailed down after eight years of training by perceived effort, so I can tell how hard I'm working give or take a few seconds now.

But I don't have a good sense of time, with the exception of swimming in a pool. I can tell you exactly how long it takes me to swim 50 or 100 yards, even though it feels like forever, give or take a second. (It must have to do with that love of oxygen.). So when it comes to running a particular period of time at a particular pace I'm doomed if I don't have a watch. So rather than the planned tempo workout of eight minutes at the pace I need to run a half marathon, two minutes easy, eight minutes at threshold, two minutes easy - repeated twice - I had to adapt. I decided to count telephone poles; eight at moderate effort, two easy, eight at hard effort, two easy, repeat until the end.

Adapting a workout to meet life's demands: So simple, even a caveman - or a smart runner - can do it.

Mind? Matter? Never Mind.

"Mind is everything. Muscle - pieces of rubber. All that I am, I am because of my mind." - Paavo Nurmi (1897-1973)

So much of distance running - running, for that matter - has to do with the mind. Doesn't matter if the target event is something as brief as a 5,000-meter road race or as long as a marathon. You cannot check your mind at the door.

I've heard lots of friends talk about the stress release running provides; usually in terms of 'I step out the door & go, I don't think about anything...' But how many times do runners ask, 'what should I do?' or 'what pace should I go out in at this upcoming race?' So, you haven't thought about these details?

Even a stretch of workouts where you feel you're not doing well might be a sign of the need to think a little more about the running. A friend of mine wrote in a web log posting about improving swim times...but it makes perfect sense for running, also...something one of his coaches used to say: 'when you are running well maybe you really are not running well.' So, when you start to look at your time for a particular run distance, & compare to when your time was perhaps a few minutes faster months (years?) before...it might be high time to do something a little strange.

Go out & do something that's very simple.

I'm not certain whether the root of a long string of 'oh, gosh, I am really doing lousy at this stuff' has to do with only physical or mental burnout, over-training or over-reaching...most likely it's a combination of most of those factors. When performance that doesn't quite match your expectations for the time of the year/training cycle gets into your head, it's probably a good time to hit the reset button for a time.

This could be something as simple as engaging in another type of exercise, or cross-training for a few weeks until the hunger for that sport returns. A new venue, time of day, change in conditions or modality can switch things up in a positive manner. Perhaps putting the training log & techy-schmecky electronic equipment to the side, doing a few days or weeks of caveman exercise, with little more than a route and a time of day to go by? Even a little bit of - gasp - rest might not hurt in the most extreme cases.

Of course, the aging/slowing processes might be a historical inevitability. Wrapping our minds around the fact we might not be as good now as we were when we were ten years younger; does it matter? Maybe? Perhaps not?

Never mind. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time.

"Coach Dog"

...and I'm not talking about Dalmatians, those spotted coach dogs.

On more than one occasion I've lauded the simplicity of lifestyle of my retired racing greyhound-cum-household companion, Rubin. Given his inherent limitations - lack of opposable thumbs, inability to communicate in the English language, and occasional bouts of selective hearing - he's taught me a great deal about how to train, a good amount about how to coach, and a little bit, even, about how to maintain relationships.

Lesson one - consistent lifestyle. Rubin awakens at five o'clock every morning to take care of his immediate needs, determines whether extra rest is necessary, and continues his plan of the day accordingly. I've never heard him complain that he feels guilty about postponing a workout (in his case, a morning walk) in favor of a little extra rest, or deciding to settle for a trot around the back yard in place of a walk in the park. There are cases where his decision leads to a less-than-desirable outcome, but those are few and far between. Sometimes the weather conditions factor in, sometimes what he had for dinner the previous evening, sometimes even the availability of his "training partner." Still, his ability to adapt to the infrequent vicissitudes of greyhound life are a lesson to me.

Lesson two - sometimes a look says enough. Greyhounds are not known for barking unless they perceive a threat, so facial expressions and posture make up for the quiet nature. I've told friends on occasion: 'when an 85-pound greyhound stands between you and the television screen, you listen.' There are a number of different looks I've learned to translate, from the 'gotta go out' stare to the subtle look toward the box of Milk-Bone biscuits sitting atop the refrigerator. He's a tad more physical with Suzanne when she moves through the hall or works in the kitchen; a look with me often works where velcro dog is the preferred means of communication with my wife.

Lesson three - trust never sleeps. Greyhounds have two time contexts: Now, and forever. Really. Any dog owner can tell you. When do dogs want attention, food, walks, pets, ear scratching, belly rubs and the like? Now. How long has it been since the last treat, walk, bit of attention, or your departure from the house? Forever. They trust you're going to do the right thing, all the time; even if you fall short of their expectations (if dogs have expectations...) they still love and honor you.

So, for me? What do I think this means for individuals/athletes?

First - lifestyle consistency cannot be stressed enough. Rest if you're beat up; back off the effort if you're less than beat up, listen to your body and the conditions.

Second - communication between two people in a relationship (even between coach and athlete) is an individual matter. Some prefer lengthy chats a'la James Joyce; others prefer succinctness a'la Ernest Hemingway. No matter how you decide to communicate...

Third - do the right thing...be honest with everybody. It's simpler than trying to remember what story you told to what person.

Thanks, Rubin. Take two Milk-Bones out of petty cash.

The REAL Priorities

One nice thing about taking a vacation, especially in a place much different than where you live, is the opportunity to look critically at things without having to deal with them immediately.

There you go again, Bowen, failing to make sense.

What I mean is that it gives you a chance to put things into (a more proper) perspective. You realize what is important, what needs to stay unchanged, what cannot be changed, and what must be changed. Oh, and you figure out what isn't so important, too.

While looking at what could be tweaked and what needed to be tossed, I started to read a little more from an Endurance Nation coach. Pat McCrann posted on his blog Five Fit Life Commandments (You don't have to be a tri-geek to appreciate his common-sense approach to training. If you're a time-crunched athlete his ten-hours-a-week approach to endurance sport may save you some grief around the house or the workplace.), which I want to touch on in brief. If you want the details, go to the link I posted above.

#1 — Plan From The Ground Up - Right off the bat, McCrann tells me to toss my copy of Triathlete's Training Bible (at least for calculating annual training hours and trying to divide time over mesocycles) off to the side. There are all those things we are (son, husband, grandfather, worker, friend, coach, race director, course measurer, national organization rep, and so on...) and do outside of the 9-to-12 hours a week (for me, that much; for you, perhaps more...or less) we've set aside for running, cycling, swimming, cross-training. Training for my unsuccessful crack at IM FL last year I found the undivided support of my wife, my friends, and not a small amount of understanding from my boss, to be elemental to me making it to the starting line. I got beat up during the swim and melted down, but I learned what it takes to get to the starting line (and I'll be smarter next time!). Take away the five hours in the emergency department, and I can say it was an enjoyable week with my wife...I believe she would say the same.

#2 — Focus on Fun & Challenging Activities - I had 70.3 NOLA already on the 2010 schedule, and hadn't started the 2009 IM assault. Not the wisest idea looking from the forward, but it was probably the tonic I needed after IM FL. For me, a 70.3 is challenging, and fun; definitely an achievable distance within the constraints of my training and abilities. My wife told me she wanted to start running half-marathons again, and asked whether I would help her prepare for a half in New Orleans. Since the half was six weeks out from the 70.3, I figured it was the perfect training run/trip for me too; we have close friends in the area and it's a two hour-ish drive from our home...close enough for comfort, not so far we have to draw a major itinerary. For giggles, we did a 9K about seven weeks out from the half, also in NOLA. The road and climate conditions were great preparation for the half...and it served as a great excuse to get out of town after the holiday season. We're runners; we like these kind of trips...they beat her business travel.

#3 — Create A Basic Training Week - There are certain things etched in stone; work schedule, runs with other groups, swim practices. Oh, then you have real life, too. After a couple of years, and a year of experimenting with some other activities, I finally have a week laid out that I can accomplish, training-wise, consistently across a year regardless of seasonal and external commitments. McCrann mentioned that this is a baseline - something which seemed obvious. However, he mentions the idea of personal/social/professional capital stored since training has not been a constant drain on other areas of life. Deja vu Stephen McCovey's emotional bank account.

#4 — Integrated Nutrition & Recovery - something I've had a difficult time in learning, but getting better as I age...and recovery takes longer and is more necessary. I might love beer, but I also realize the alcohol in it hampers the development of human growth hormone, and makes me feel like I've been beaten about the head, shoulders, and upper torso with a big stick the next morning. Funny, I did not put this calculation together until the other morning; awakening on a Saturday after Friday night's (beer-free!) dinner with the daughter-in-law and grandkids...and feeling good. Changing my training schedule to place the lower impact activities in the morning and the running in the afternoon also lets me balance work with recovery.

#5 — Well-Organized External Commitments - Changing the workout a couple of mornings a week allows me to shower at home, rather than dragging my work clothes and shower items to work, worrying about where to store the wet, smelly shoes, and - worst of all - forgetting the shoes/socks/belt/skivvies/brush and feeling miserable about my appearance the remainder of the work day. Usually, the first 60 minutes of the day is taken up with e-mail and electronic posting of stuff which lands in my personal in-box and is forwarded; I'm already checking e-mail for work so this is giving me a second read. I spend less time punching up stuff on the computer on my time.

Of course, when you leave vacation world and come back to the real world, you have to execute the plan of action you drafted in your mind, or scribbled on a napkin at Cheeseburger Waikiki, or typed up on your laptop during that (seemingly) endless flight from Honolulu to Atlanta. There's where the trial/error/trust thing comes in. Give it a try...make certain to give enough time to see if things are really working...and adapt accordingly.

It's Your Fault. Trust Me. I'm A Doc.

Before becoming a "documentarian/running bureaucrat/anal-retentive measurer/backyard shade-tree coach" I worked as an analyst in the human factors, medical, education & communications world. Until seven years ago I hadn't developed any real taxonomy by which to break down root causes to things. I just worked by feel.

After I entered my (Navy) educational internship I was enrolled into a human performance technology course track at a local university. One of the first documents I read was based on the work of Thomas Gilbert, considered to be the father of human performance technology. Gilbert was a disciple of B. F. Skinner, the human behaviorist. Think pigeons pecking metal plates in response to a flashing light in exchange for seed. Think Walden Two. Fortunately, Gilbert was thinking more humanistically.Gilbert believed all barriers to worthy performance (not just doing something, but doing something of worth to society) could be broken down into six areas; three at the organizational level, three at the performer level. Other theorists borrowed the Pareto (80/20) principle; 80 percent of performance deficiencies were caused by 20 percent of possible root causes. They believed 80 percent of performance barriers were organizationally rooted. In other words, as Gilbert wrote in his 1978 book, most workers go to work wanting to do a good job. Management screws it up by unclear communications, inefficient processes, & disincentivizing worthy performance. If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail. - Abraham Maslow (1908-1970)I've always had the tendency to look more at the organizational - in my own case, coach-rooted - barriers to an athlete's performance first, and then the worker - or athlete-rooted - barriers...or I've left them alone entirely. Unless the athlete places 100-percent trust and confidence in me there's not much I can do to control an autonomous, adult, post-collegiate, recreational athlete. (I prefer to think I was more accountable to my coach; he might beg to differ.) Sometimes we want to say to the athlete, 'I don't think you want to work that hard...you don't want to train to perform that well...' The coach's job is to do what it takes to prepare the athlete to execute the plan, given their state of fitness, on the day.Lately I've been reading & noting the guidance Brett "Doc" Sutton provides to amateur age-group as well as professional triathletes he trains as part of Team TBB. He's had some great success in the ITU, 70.3 & IM world, has coached swimmers, trained racehorses & world triathlon champions. He's able to read the athlete & see through the b.s. His brand of coaching blends tough love & stoking the inward fire, for want of a better term on my part.Doc's way of looking at a problem is simple:"...in every thing, we break it up into three steps. We don't believe in making it more complicated than that, what ever it is. You come with a problem that has five or six points? "The Doc" sends you back to the corner & says 'bring me back three & we will find a solution.'"Let's take a day where an athlete doesn't perform up to their expectation. Rather than blame the coaching, the weather or the course, what about the pace they ran in the first mile, where they staged themself in the starting corral, or the warm-up that was not done? As "Doc" says, 'no discussion...we reap what we sow.'Timing or scoring issue? Get scored fourth place in your age group when you know you were third? Some sports don't allow the opportunity for 'argument, no pity-partying , or you get your head punched off by the opposition within the next ten seconds.' Sometimes you need to 'make the very best out of a...hand that is dealt. That is your hand; how you play it is up to the individual. Some get inspired, some crack.' Don't place yourself in a position to be vulnerable to the frailties of human judgment. 'Don't like it? Don't race. This is your sport; can it be done better? Well of course. But that is not on the table on race day.'

While the vast majority of us are recreational athletes & not making dollar-one from our pursuit, we can still borrow the mindset & adapt the mental toughness of the professional. Sometimes that means looking in the mirror for the first cause, then going on from there.

One Excuse...

"...is as good as another on any given day." - Coach Fox, multiple times between 2002-05

Every once in a while I have athletes who decide to engage in 'summer,' a strange season of the earthly year, a time filled with many outdoor entertainment activities, including a very strange concept called vacation. During this vacation, the athlete gets into an automobile & drives for several hours to a place where they spend the majority of the money they saved over the previous year on lodging, food & the exact same outdoor entertainment opportunities which they could have enjoyed at home had they decided to stay.

Also, during this vacation, the athlete usually makes a conscious decision to do NOTHING. As a result, they return back to the track on a Tuesday evening after one of these vacations having lost every bit of the hard-won fitness we attempted to develop from their previous vacation, during the period between the autumnal equinox & two weeks after the winter solstice. Following that vacation, they stepped on their bathroom scale & realized they weighed much more than they suspected...as if their jeans couldn't have told them the same message some time in late November.
How these athletes became conditioned to believe a vacation was meant to exclude exercise is beyond my understanding. If you were to ask every single one of them what they used to do throughout their summer vacation as a child, I would wager nine of every ten would tell you they were involved in some sort of unstructured physical activity, like swimming, bicycling, walking, hiking, climbing, & all that good stuff...on a daily basis.

So, how did we go from doing stuff on vacation to not doing a thing on vacation? Mind you, one or two of my athletes actually perform physical labor during the week, so for them, physical exercise is probably more fun than chore. A vacation for them would probably not be harmful. However, the rest of you (myself included) are still on the hook. If you're going to go on one of those vacation things, there's a very good reason for the "take half the clothes and twice the money" advice provided by every travel consultant...it's so you can add at least one pair of running shoes & three outfits, silly. Your employer will thank you. Your co-workers will thank you. And yes, your coach will definitely thank you...not nearly as much as you will, though.

During this time of the year, it's difficult to get fired up about food. Well, unless it's fired up on a grill & sitting beside a cold beverage of choice. Otherwise, most indoor dining is boring. Hardest part about being a person in training at this time of the year is this: You need to get nourishment back into your body, at the least some nourishment within 30 minutes of finishing a workout, but other times during the day, too.

But when the day is divided up into workout, clean-up, commute, work, commute, workout, clean-up, sleep (with a few other small pieces in between), it's a challenge to get the right food in the right amounts into you...especially if you're one of those people who hate eating first thing in the morning, or don't have a stable enough work schedule during the day, or don't have access to a kitchen/refrigerator, or have knucklehead co-workers who raid the fridge. The key is to get what your body needs. Keep it simple.My wife recommended I take a big ol' salad into the office so I could scarf on throughout the day. Nice, but there are days when I'm not exactly sitting in front of my desk doing office things. I could have something a little smaller every so often, though. She made a salad the other morning, which was sitting on the stove next to a couple of bagel halves. I couldn't tell at first what the contents were, so I opened up the lid. Instantly I smelled onions & knew there was no way I could take that in to work.

I don't eat (raw) onions, period. End of story. I can tell if there's one on a sandwich or in someone's lunch across a crowded room.So, I try to get a little something on the way in, but balance it with the wisdom of knowing that eating McBarfle's five days a week is going to make me fat as a pig. My recent screaming about weight & the need to get back down to fit weight made the cartoon above stand out. For those of you who don't know me too well, my dog is below:
...I think you can guess who represents me in the cartoon above. Ah, but it's a temporary phase, one which can be remedied by smarter eating, judicious workouts, & resting as needed.

See you at the track.

Simplify!

"...We don't train to accomplish any of what these other coaches have tried to coax you into believing. We train to IMPROVE, and to do our best. We train to perform and to win. And while triumph is no doubt defined differently for each of us, it is far easier to comprehend than anything you've heard here... Sure, it's imperative to understand what training does to your body, but it is far more important to know why you are training and what your training is leading you toward, and to have 100% belief in the process. Simplify!" - Chuckie "V" Veylupek (at some nameless coaching conference, way back when)
Not only local runners use me as their coach. I also coach two or three runners by what I can only describe as remote control or belief coaching. After enough research into what makes a good training plan work (periodization) & a little trial/error on my own (candor), some of my friends have asked me to help them achieve their running/triathlon performance goals. So far it has been effective.

What makes it effective is this: Describing my own workout regimen (these repetitions, at this pace, with this recovery) is enough to boggle their mind, but I've been able to simplify it for their benefit. Without spending a month of three workouts per week trying to learn the language, they've been able to improve & progress forward in their training, strictly because I have simplified it for them.

I'm not training anyone to improve their VO2max score, training stress score, magic mile or any of that stuff. Simply put, I try to help them be (in the words of Daft Punk) harder, better, faster, stronger. The nice thing is that there's only one measure that will honestly prove that on race day...the clock. The SRM won't do it. The HRM won't do it. And no matter what WKO says when all that GPS stuff is uploaded into your PC, the (four or) six numbers that really count are xx:xx:xx. Outside of (to borrow from Disraeli) numbers, d*mned numbers & statistics, the only other thing that matters is whether they make it across the finish line in one piece. If they make it across in a better time than they hoped for, all other controllable factors being equal, so much the better.

Seems pretty simple to me.

K.I.S.S.-ing To Be Clever

The middle of May, here in the FL panhandle, is kind of the tail end of the spring road running season & the height of the triathlon season. So, for the runners it's usually time to back things up & either build the base that should have been built in the chill, dark months of January & February or to recover, maintain & build a tolerance to the heat over the summer so the autumn race season isn't nearly as painful.

And I stress the need for easy-paced runs throughout the summer's heat & humidity. Even the track workouts I assign over the summer are based on perceived effort. This week we ended up with some partly cloudy, humid but not overpowering conditions, which is a good start for adapting. But I have one or two athletes who own Garmins and click them on & off on every repeat. That's not so much the maddening thing as much as when they check their pace during the warm-up.
'So, what's the proper pace for warm-up?' I asked one of the Garmin users last night at the track. He rattled off a pace about 30 seconds off what I try to run on one of my easy days. 'Let me walk you further down this train of thought; is there a single, right pace at which you should warm-up?' I think he got the message after that statement.

While I like GPS gear for the benefit of knowing more-or-less how far you've traveled, I think it places an undue dependence on technology. Don't we run to get more in touch with the inner workings of our bodies? While I can do the simple mathematics on my regular running courses to determine how fast my pace is, there are days when I am more labored at running an eight-minute mile-pace easy run; that's probably too fast for the day. Actually, that happened a couple of evenings ago out at the beach. While it was not much warmer than usual, it was a little breezy & humid (conditions that make my exercise-induced asthma kind of kick up).
'You're breathing heavy tonight. Usually I don't hear you that way for at least another mile when the pace picks up,' said my Garmin-guy. Considering the conditions & the fact I raced two races four days earlier, it was not supposed to be a sprightly-paced run. I mentioned what I thought the pace was, at which he told me, 'no, it's...'

Some days the "fresh" pace is slower than others. I'm trying to keep it simple.

Once we got about three miles into the run I began to feel a little better & the pace dropped; a few seconds here, a few seconds there. It probably didn't hurt to make an unscheduled boxen-stop (potty break!) at the 2.5-mile point. Give my training-mates 20 seconds to get up the road & I'm hell-bent for election to catch them. It's that simple.

Too much technology leads to too much dependence on numbers - useless data - in training. If you don't know what the numbers mean, or you can't figure out what a particular effort (pace) feels like on the day, what's the use? It's little more than mathematical self-abuse.

(I was going to use a more-adult term starting with the letter M, but in order to keep this blog post at a PG rating...)

Scarier, even, is if the technology cr*ps out on you on race day. Or you find your pace/power/HR isn't where it should be. At that point what do you do? Do you panic, bail out of your race, or do you (as Clint Eastwood in Heartbreak Ridge said:) 'adapt....overcome....improvise?' Batteries die. Satellites go down unexpectedly. Connections become disconnected.

That's why it's always best to keep things as simple as possible, but, as Albert Einstein was reported to have said: 'but not simpler.'

So Many Nice-Looking Shoes

You want to fall in love with a shoe, go ahead. A shoe can't love you back, but, on the other hand, a shoe can't hurt you too deeply either. And there are so many nice-looking shoes. - Allan Sherman

Half of the fun of coaching new runners is the reminder of how simple the sport of running can be. If you have a good pair of running shoes & a good path on which to run, there's not much else you need to start. Once the new runner gets to transiting the pathway over time is where the troubles begin. As youngsters, we knew we weren't going to get a new pair of shoes until we wore the previous pair out, to the point we had toes sticking out, run down heels, & so on. Runners start having issues with soreness in the feet, small & large weight-bearing joints, & in most extreme cases, low back pain or even the risk of a stress-related injury.

A good case in point is one of my newest runners, Marie. She's young & a relatively new runner, who's been out for a handful of my track workouts. I noticed her shoes on her first Saturday morning workout didn't look all that new, but didn't ask her the 'how old are those shoes?' question until the track workout three days later. What got my attention was her flamingo-like stance in between a few easy-paced repeats, followed by a dead stop in her tracks. At that moment I could tell something was very, very wrong.

I called to Marie across the track to stop and walk across the infield. I then walked through the infield to speak to her. 'What hurts?' Marie told me it was her right knee. 'Okay, what have you done differently over the past few days?' She said she hadn't run any since the workout on Saturday. Now the litmus test: 'How long have you had those shoes?' Marie told me she had owned the New Balance shoes she was running in for approximately a year. 'Okay, most running shoes have a life span of six-to-nine months or 400-to-500 miles, so it looks like you are very overdue for another pair of running shoes.'

'Coach, I bought a pair of Asics running shoes the other day, & tried to run in them, but they hurt my feet,' was the next statement from Marie. She then told me the store from where the shoes were purchased. I then asked her a rhetorical question, 'so, you purchased a pair of running shoes without knowing what type of shoe is best for you, & they hurt your feet. Do you think they are the right shoe for you?' She answered that she didn't think they were.

This, especially with new runners, is where the prescriptive side of coaching begins: 'Okay, Marie. Your workout is over for the day. No running for you, of any type, until you go see the local running proprietor, have them do a gait analysis to see what kind of shoe you need, & get you into a pair of proper shoes...' I then told her, '...I've made the same mistakes in the past. I've purchased discount shoes from an on-line sporting goods seller, without knowing the shoe...I've trained for & raced a marathon in shoes I bought on sale, which didn't provide enough support, & injured me for three months. The right shoes are a pain to get, but the wrong shoes can injure you, & in the case of longer-distance races, will.'

When it comes to running shoes, you definitely get what you pay for. A good running store with knowledgeable staff can make certain you only pay once from your wallet. Good shoes are less expensive than cheap shoes when you look at physical therapist, physician or orthopedic specialist fees, time off from running, & come-back after an extended injury lay-off.

Bug Bites

As a runner for over 15 years, I reveled in the simplicity of the sport. It doesn't take much to get started, nor to stay in. If you run 25 miles a week, you'll probably go through three pairs of shoes a year ($300), two pairs of shorts ($60), half a dozen socks - that sounds like a lot, but let me tell you, the dryer eats more running socks than dress ones ($50) and a couple of tops ($60). Toss in a race or two and you probably spend $500 a year on a healthy recreational/fitness running habit.

Now, here's where the small print comes in: Your mileage and desire to race can seriously increase the amount of time, energy and money invested in this sport. If you're a fanatic like me, the total purchases per year goes up another $200 for shoes, and perhaps $200 for races, not counting incidentals such as travel, meals, other expenses. Still, that's pretty small cost compared to NOT being a runner and having the risk of all those nasty chronic health issues resulting from a sedentary lifestyle.

Triathlon is a totally different story. Of course, you can start out with a $20 pair of goggles and a $20 Speedo for the swim, use a $200 steel-framed Sears-Roebuck special, a $20 helmet, then add the single pair of running shoes...so the healthy recreational/fitness running habit can get you through the door of a triathlon.

HOWEVER:

When you see all the slick, sexy gear that the top shelf tri-dudes and tri-chicks are using, and you watch just how quickly some of them are getting from swim to bike and from bike to run... Well, actually the bug bites not long after you do your first tri. After you revel in the joy of finishing all three disciplines without drowning, crashing or bonking (too badly!), you start to realize that getting faster is a result of two functions.

The first one is obvious. Gear. The wetsuit is great for flotation (the first time you get into one and into the water you'll be shocked at how buoyant you are), add another $100 at the very least. A tri-friendly (road racing or triathlon-specific) bike can cost as little as a couple of hundred dollars used. Tri-suits can cost up to a couple of hundred bucks, but usually are less...unless you're looking for a specific brand and aren't willing to settle for less.

Training is the second, and less obvious function. A $5,000 triathlon bike won't make up for a lack of biking skill, cardiovascular fitness or mental toughness. As my friend Robbie Mott says, it's all in the engine. Swimming with a masters' group can cost you in the lowest three-digit range per year, you have to get up in the morning and get it done. Membership with a triathlon group is also inexpensive and can get you hitched up with training and great advice...or at least words of warning on what NOT to do.

Let me tell you, when the triathlon bug bites, it bites hard. Exhibit "A" is posted at the top, a 1998 used triathlon/timetrialing bike...purchased for $770 on eBay. I tried to hold out for Robbie's order of a new Cervelo P2C triathlon bike, but the temptation was too great. Now I feel bad I couldn't hold up my end of the bargain. The only way I can make it up to him is by perhaps getting another set of wheels, I guess...there we go, more money...I am not certain there is a known cure outside of burnout or traumatic injury...maybe finishing an Ironman. Probably not, that's not like marathoning, where some folks say: 'been there, did it, received the t-shirt, no more.'