Private Equity Race Enthusiasts

Suzanne and I are not “typical” destination race enthusiasts. 

We have traveled to Augusta GA, Jacksonville FL, Nashville TN, New Orleans, and Panama City FL, for the sole purpose to run a road race or do a triathlon, but we are, for lack of a more-eloquent term, “private equity” racers.

If you’re not familiar with how private equity works, a private equity firm generally uses shareholder money to purchase firms.  They pay back the shareholder either by the purchased firm’s profit or the liquidation of its assets.  Suzanne and I aren’t quite so mercenary; we look for race events which coincide with business travel and adjust our schedule so as to be able to participate in the race, then take care of the project or attend the conference.  She has raced the ING Half-Marathon in Miami twice, done a couple of 10-kilometer runs in Orlando, FL, as well as a few other small races.

My day job entails doing work for a large government organization.  I spent my first year as part of a civilian education and training internship (living out of a suitcase) in exotic locations; Great Lakes, Illinois.  Arlington, Virginia.  Orlando.  It took me three years to learn my way around Pensacola, much to the chagrin of my wife.  My running habit was not lost on my fellow interns.  Once, when we were slated to attend a conference sponsored by the American Society of Training Development, my friend Terri Kelly said, “Mikey, there’s a run that weekend, too.”  Both Terri and her husband Tom spent some time In San Diego, and Tom ran his share of races, including the Bay Bridge 4-Miler.

Having run the Bushwacker 5K, a race where you run over a bridge in 90-degree heat and 90-percent humidity, I figured this couldn’t be “much” worse.  I was correct.

I have a mug with the San Diego skyline from a coffee purveyor whose name sounds much like “Four Bucks.”  Just inside the rim is printed a phrase: ’78 Degrees and Sunny.”  If you’re going to run, it might as well be in San Diego.  The weather can be very warm as you move more inland, but the city as a whole is a meteorologist’s – and a runner’s – dream.

The Bay Bridge run starts near the Convention Center and Gaslamp Square District, goes down Harbor Drive, then turns after a mile to go onto the Coronado Bay Bridge.  Gaslamp Square on a Sunday morning is like Bourbon on a Sunday morning, only more quiet.  I was fortunate to be fairly close to the front when I raced; the race announcers were making a big deal over a nine-year-old girl who was some age-group ace.  Her father was also running so as to keep her from being trampled.  When the gun went off we were all hell-bent for election, hauling down Harbor.  Darned if the little girl and her father didn’t leave me in the dust.  Just after one mile we approached Cesar Chavez Parkway and the on-ramp to the bridge.  Take that right hand turn and…holy cats…that IS a bridge.

The Coronado Bay Bridge is steep.  Not terribly steep, but it seems to keep going and going.  All you can do is what most smart folks do when racing on a hill; shorten the stride and increase the turnover.  And, most importantly of all, keep moving.  I caught the waif and her father about half a mile up the bridge and gave a brief word of encouragement.  Perhaps, though, I should have kept it for myself.  The two-mile mark is at the top of the bridge, just enough time to look out straight ahead toward the Hotel Del Coronado (glorious!), North Island and the Silver Strand (site of future post-marathon recovery jaunts).  Also at the top is a suicide hotline phone number.  I remember telling a fellow runner, “I’m not in the mood to jump and I don’t have a cell phone, so I guess we’ll just have to run the rest of the way down.”

Downhill on the bridge is a comfort and joy, it seems much less painful than hammering down the hills on our training loop around Bayou Texar.  Next thing I know we are not only back on terra firma (the more firmer, the less terror…) on Coronado Island but still have a little less than a mile to go.  The race finishes in Tidelands Park, traveling down a footpath and into a grass chute.  I felt bad for all the guys who finished only a few minutes behind me, as the race announcer made a point to inform them and the spectators…they had been beaten by a nine-year-old girl.

As the race was sponsored by the Navy Morale, Welfare and Recreation group, I don’t recall whether there was beer during the post-race – besides, we were stuck going to some mindless educational seminar – but the post-race celebration and awards were top-notch.  A fleet (pun not necessarily intended) of shuttle buses carried runners back over to Gaslamp Square and the Convention Center.  All in all, the Bay Bridge 4-Miler stands as one of the more demanding, yet scenic races I’ve ever run.

And well worth traveling to on someone else's money.

Eat Healthy or Eat Cheap?

Place a Westerner - let's be more specific and say an American - in an environment where the number of fast food joints is severely decreased. Are they more likely or less likely to eat healthier? Or will they still choose dining establishments identified by "the clown", "the colonel", or "the king," as Anthony Bourdain described some in a recent episode of his Travel Channel series, 'No Reservations?'

I guess it depends. What drives you, a sense of familiarity or a sense of adventure? Who makes the final decision: your wallet, your stomach, or your mind?

I've always harbored the opinion it's more expensive to eat healthy than to eat "junk food." Go into any health food store or walk through the organic produce section of any supermarket and look at the foodstuffs. Then look at the menu board at the drive through of the burger barn a little farther down the street. It has always seemed to me that where fast food lacks in nutrition it makes up for in price. And vice versa.

Back in 2007 or so, researchers at the University of Washington looked at the price relationship (dollars and calories) for nutrient-dense ("healthy") and calorie-dense ("junk") foods. They found the amount of nutrient-dense foods which would make up 2000 calories (the baseline average adult diet) cost approximately ten times as much as that of calorie-dense foods making up the same baseline. Add to that the volatility of price for healthy foods - during the two years studied by U of W researchers, a 19-percent increase, compared to a near-two percent decrease for "junk" foods - and it's simple to see why many persons, especially those with fixed or lower incomes, would more likely turn to foods which are less healthy. It's more simple to know how much of one's income is going to go towards meal times.

The "eat good versus eat cheap" paradox during travel came to a head during our Singapore holiday. We stayed in the Chinatown district, about a mile from the central business district and the major shopping and entertainment areas. Our first meal was in a little "dining house" across the street from our hotel. Four dollars got Suzanne and myself each a serving of two organic vegetarian items with steamed rice. While I'm not a fan of vegetarian food, especially meat substitutes, I have to admit that when they are done well it's almost impossible to tell the difference from "real" meat. Add to that another five dollars for a 633-milliliter (21.4 ounce) bottle of Singapore-brewed beer, split between the two of us, and still the meal was fairly inexpensive.

As long as you keep in touch with your inner Andrew Zimmern ("if it looks good, eat it") and eat in locally-owned and locally-operated dining houses you can eat not only healthy but save a few bucks for souvenirs. Or tailored clothes.

Food courts at the malls and tourist destinations carry more familiar items and names, but at a price. A value meal at the McDonald's up the block from our hotel was six bucks...which we did once; we were jonesing for french fries. Otherwise we steered a wide path away from anything corporate.

And we really didn't worry about quality or cleanliness. Singapore, especially Singapore, is one of the most organized and controlled societies we've encountered in our travels. Everything is inspected and observed there. And I do mean everything. Probably one of the best, and most memorable, meals we had was on the last day of our trip, at the fruit market in Tanjong Pagar neighborhood, just off of Chinatown. Suzanne and I both had a bowl of (seriously house-rocking) noodle soup with (chili!) meatballs and fresh vegetables of all sorts...once again, about four or five dollars (not counting the beer!) filled us both to the gills.

Our greatest challenge during the week was finding coffee or beer at reasonable prices. No problems getting tea, though. I always was the loser when it came to ordering coffees: I'd want a regular coffee and have to settle for a "flat white;" Suzanne would order an "Americano." Hers was ALWAYS better. The least expensive beer, Tiger, is very good, and can be found for five to six dollars for a two-serving bottle, as long as you don't go into the touristy bars.

Oh, and for those who've heard the phrase "a pint's a pound the world around..." Starbucks was still four bucks.

Some things will always remain the same.

Adapt or Die

Lately, my wife has been looking into business plans; big picture strategic stuff which (in the past) used to make my head hurt. Hurt. Bad. Worse than any workout I ever ran under my old coach, or as part of my own training. Bad enough to drive me to that high-end coffee emporium you can find on nearly every corner in a good-sized city. At that point, my business plan was to go in, grab a four-dollar latte, & think pleasant thoughts about long, easy runs on shady, tree-lined lanes with no automobiles, no dogs, & toilet facilities at each mile marker. Silly to think I'd have to resort to fantasy to ease the pain of reality, right? Then I began to think about how they expanded from a few stores in one city to this big, honking, megalithic corporation with stores everywhere...all part of a big, honking, audacious business plan a bunch of smart business-types sat down over their lattes and drafted out years ago.

So, my wife was talking to me in between my workout and my hurried rush to be late for work...again...about things like micropayment & free-riding... I vaguely remembered from my college economics course about free-riding; it's like banditing a road race. For the uninitiated, bandits are unregistered, unofficial race participants. They don't have a bib number so their performances aren't officially recorded. Most of the time, these bandits won't grab drinks at the aid stations or run through the finish chute; the occasional cup of water taken by a bandit might not adversely affect a race promoter's profit margin, but when they run through the chute it causes headaches for the timing crew...especially if their timing system is antiquated.
Of course, the bandit is of the opinion 'hey, the police coverage is going to be out there for everyone else, what's so wrong with me using the race as a fast training event? I'm not drinking the beer or eating the bagels, am I?' Most race directors, at least here, turn a (semi-)blind eye on the banditry because it usually doesn't screw up their event as a whole. However, if the individual participant looked at it as 'dude, someone isn't paying their fair share...' perhaps race directors would be a little less benign about the whole thing. The difference between 300 persons paying for a 350-participant race and 350 persons paying for a 350-participant race, if we're talking a 5,000-meter run with a $20 entry fee is (before the expenses are taken away) $1,000, right on the edge of 15 percent potential additional income. Or, the race director can do something really cool, like keep the registration closer to $18. Imagine what the average, run-of-the-mill race participant would think about a $2 decrease in entry fee?

It's hyperbole, but it's easier to think about the difference when you start tossing big numbers.

Is it crazy to provide content, services, or goods for free? It depends on the provider's intent; if the hope is the (potential) customer will reach for value-added items, available for a small fee, then providing content for free is acceptable. If the seats in the auditorium (to borrow a theater analogy) are filled with non-paying customers, in order to keep up the appearance of a successful business, then you know eventually the business is going to do one of two things in order to survive:

1. Change or discontinue certain content.
2. Charge for content.

Adapt or die, say the business theorists, who borrow from theories of natural selection.

And it appears many on-line coaching services cannot help but agree. You might be able to find cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-most training plans - or parts of them - on the web sites of coaching content providers, but a modicum of your paycheck is going to have to be parted with if you want the entire picture, which may or may not include a coach to answer questions, provide guidance & counsel, & help you to figure out what you need to reach your own athletic performance goals.

And books with coaching advice & training plans? Well, you have to purchase those, too, so you're putting the money out one way or another. A coach who I know performs his craft strictly for love of the sport has written, & sells, a training manual - so a dichotomy can exist in athletic training consisting of altruism & venality...better yet, let's say altruism & capitalism. :)

Any coach who doesn't consider charging a reasonable price for the service they provide:

1. Does not want to place their reputation behind their product (perceived worth), or

2. Is independently wealthy (altruism), or

3. Has no need to make a living from their craft (libertarian ideals), or

3. Does not care enough about developing potential clientele (selectivity).

Simply put, gains in athletic performance, & striving for athletic/fitness goals, costs you in time, in personal committment, & in finances. A good coach can help you get there - better than you can do it on your own - because they've seen the pitfalls from their perspective, & many have made the common mistakes in their own experience. A good coach is like a Sherpa; you pay them to guide you up the mountain, they work hard so you don't have to expend as much effort or risk the chance of dying on the journey.

(POSTSCRIPT - My coach reminded me last night there are coaches who do what they do solely for love of the sport. The statements above sound mercenary, but they are theories, much like the theory of natural selection. Day-to-day practice may or may not align with the above-mentioned theory.)

Give Me The Fruitcake And Nobody Gets Hurt

Rather than not try to make amends for the morning's weather conditions (light rain), which put the kibosh on not only the marathon course measurement but the Sunday kinda-long run, Suzanne and I took a couple of walks during the course of the day. The first one was the more enjoyable endeavor, around the park outside of our house...taking our greyhound on the last circuit. She wears her iPod to listen to techie podcasts, I wear my Speedo Aquabeat to listen to tunes...we chatter when the spirit moves us...which is usually often during these strolls.

The second one, we decided, would be at the mall. We did want to make a brief trip to a couple of our favorite shops, and we did indulge in some of that four-dollar coffee, too. As always, the mall provides lots of commentary material, so we usually don't take any music player with us.

Why do people lumber through shopping malls in an absolutely overloaded state? There is no way, given the fitness level of the typical American consumer, their stamina is going to withstand a three-hour stroll in an overheated, crowded mall...especially when they are carrying fifty pounds of cr*p IN BAGS WHICH WERE NEVER MEANT FOR CARRYING OVER EXTENDED DISTANCES/PERIODS OF TIME. Suzanne mentioned seeing a couple earlier in the week as she was taking care of some business; the woman was carrying ALL of the stuff. When a bag (inevitably) failed to hold up and shopping items fell to the floor, her husband berated her...of course, he was NOT carrying a d*mned thing. As my friend Christian would say, 'what the heck, over...'

I did mention, during our stroll, the fact I was still not completely in the holiday spirit. For me, it is not the Christmas holiday without not having at least one piece of fruitcake. This has been a painful decision in years past; it was two years ago when I broke a molar while eating a slice of fruitcake, starting a very expensive string of dental appointments which has lasted until the middle of last year. Still, I like candied fruit, nuts, raisins, currants, dates, and all the junk that should never pass the lips of a serious athlete...at least one slice during the holidays, just to say I've had it.

Gingerbread, German lebkuchen, other European delectables of the sort; those are the next-best things I've ever had to fruitcake, frankly. And I'm certain a good gingerbread cake or a couple of good gingerbread cookies are less damaging to the diet than their equivalent weight in fruitcake. However, that's what I want, and I'm still on the hunt for it, d*mn it. If it takes me until Christmas Eve, and I find one of those cheesy single-slice packages at the local Circle K, I'm going to have my piece. Then I'll have some peace.

Ah...it was so good to get back into the groove of working out after three days of being a sick doggie. I didn't get the yardage in the pool I hoped for on Saturday, but it was a check in the box...definitely better than the morning's spinning class. I fail to see the merit in playing holiday music as background visualization to a indoor cycling workout...unless you're playing the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve, Sarajevo...if it's that piece, I'm going to grind big gears. Still, I can't get up for (young) Michael Jackson singing Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. I can't see Crowie, Chuckie V, Chrissie, spinning to it, nor would Michael be caught dead with it in his iPod.

But I guess the most important thing is to get something done so you don't add something on. This time of year I guess we do work out in order to eat. I'm going to work out until I find my fruitcake...then I'll stop long enough to eat it...then I'll work out some more. Hm, memo to self...recommend fruitcake-flavor to makers of Clif Bar...

In case I don't post between now and later this week...but I probably will...Happy Chanukah, Happy Christmas.

Ask Coach - March 2008

When I took over the coaching position for ECRT, I originally wrote the club's newsletter. Since I'm a typical guy (literal translation: lucky to do one thing correctly at a time) multitasking - it was a choice between writing communications and writing workouts. So, I chose workouts and told the new club secretary he would write the newsletter. He decided to throw rhetorical/actual questions he thought of and heard from folks asking about our training, etc., at me each month. Here's a sample of the ones from this month...

Which books on running do you recommend? Sometimes I need a little motivation to come work out on these cold nights.
I have good news and bad news. We won’t have too many cold nights after this month… that’s the good news. The bad news is we’ll have 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity. But I digress. I’ll give three non-training-focused books I think every runner should read at least once, or once a year.

The first, ‘Once A Runner,’ is a classic, a book you search for your entire life, then read at least once a year (Stacie Rockhill has my copy, and I want it back!) during those dreary days when you cannot get out to run. John Parker wrote this novel loosely based on his time at the original Florida Track Club, back in the days when Olympians Jack Bacheler and Frank Shorter were there. I had the supreme pleasure to meet (and train with) the inspiration for a couple of characters in the book during while in college. I asked my wife to read it when we were first dating to help her understand the idiosyncrasies runners possess. However, if it comes to the choice between purchasing warm technical gear to wear on cold workouts and buying OAR, the price might be equal, as this book is out of print and hard to find. If you are fortunate enough to get Parker’s follow-up, ‘Again To Carthage,’ wait to read it until you read ‘Once A Runner.’

The second, ‘Running With The Buffaloes,’ chronicles a season with the University of Colorado cross-country team and their coach, Mark Wetmore. Chris Lear’s development of a team dynamic and the trials of collegiate athletics are only two of the major themes in this book. Reading Wetmore’s philosophy of coaching and the method by which he develops training plans will help you understand some of the challenges as you look at your own training.

While I want to recommend Lear’s follow-up book, ‘Sub-4:00: Alan Webb and the Quest for the Fastest Mile,’ I think Dean Karnazes’ ‘Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner’ is better motivational material. “Karno” runs the gamut from talking about his passion for Starbucks, to describing his first (failed) effort at running the Badwater 150-Mile Run, to balancing corporate life with family and running. Two visuals come to mind as I recall the book: First, the starter who climbs a boulder to read the soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Henry IV (the “band of brothers” speech), before firing a shotgun to start the Western States 100-Mile Run. Second (and there’s a photo on the back cover), the photo of Karnazes at the South Pole showing what it takes to run in Antarctica…makes me laugh out loud. The dietary list from his 250-plus-mile run that frames this book (It’s an appendix, but don’t read it until you get to the end, okay?) is enough to make you topple. Or input the number to the nearest Round Table Pizza on your cell phone. I disagree with Outside magazine’s description of Karnazes as ‘America’s Greatest Distance Runner,’ but he definitely has a rare and special quality.

I’ve read that a serious runner should get in interval miles, long miles, tempo miles and easy miles. At the track, aren’t we overemphasizing interval training at the expense of the other types of training?

I‘ll start with the rhetorical question, ‘what is serious? And what does that mean to me as a runner?’

What we do at the track should only be a small part of your training, with long miles, (more) tempo miles and easy miles on the days you aren’t there. For example, I run easy on Monday afternoon, do interval work on Tuesday and Thursday, and a long tempo run on Wednesday. Sunday is my day to do either a long, easy run or a long bike ride (I also swim and ride a stationary bicycle as cross-training and to train for multi-sport events.). Some of what I have been reading says (in contrast) older or less-experienced runners will benefit more from increased aerobic-pace training than from interval work; after a time the younger runner needs interval work to continue speed development. But, don’t get hung up on what you read and consider it as the norm. Remember what works for the local running stud (or stud-ette) or the elite runner might not fit your needs. If you need help in developing a training plan to meet your running goals and touches all of those elements, (and includes rest,) please speak to me at the track, at the Deli on Friday night, or any time you can dial my phone.

This isn’t a question, just a comment – I am so glad that we are running the trail for our warm-up instead of two miles on the track!

I’m as glad for it as you are. We all need a little bit of diversion, and the trail warm-up allows that. You’ll get to run out on the trail as warm-up for a longer period this summer: I draw the line after I receive a bite from those nasty yellow flies.

End Of The Month Blues

'She keeps a toothbrush at my place; as if I have the extra space. She steals my clothes to wear to work; I know; her hairs are on my shirt...' - "City Love" (John Mayer)

I'm certain this scenario would happen around my house if we were a little farther north; there wouldn't be a flannel shirt available...of course, I couldn't wear a flannel shirt into this office, anyway. For my wife and I, it's more like borrowing my running clothes. Since she works out of a house converted into an office, a mere 200 meters around the corner from our own, she's in the catbird seat. She has no commute, the option of taking our big rude d-a-w-g (a retired racing greyhound) to keep her company (and scare the bejeezus out of door-to-door lunatics stoopid enough to stop by), and (should she decide), even better, the option of stepping out the door for a 30-minute run without offending anyone with her schvitz.

Sometimes, having that 7-to-3:30 in the cubicle farm is little more than a royal pain in the @$$. However, there are days when the 'other lives' I lead can be more painful. Approaching the end of the month can be that way, since I'm looking to (at least) one set of officer meeting minutes, one newsletter, and putting the first touches on the next month's article. Add on top of that the need/want/desire of some clubs to have me do things (many of which can be done well enough by them - which means reverting to teacher once again)...and the last few days of the month can be as hectic or depressing as a week of Mondays. Sometimes they sure feel like a week of Mondays, let me tell you.

Because I lead two lives, which take up 13-15 hours of my day - I know some of you who read this have no sympathy; that's all right, I wasn't asking for any - my finger on the pulse of the world occurs usually in one-hour chunks; listening to NPR on my way to and from work, reading the print media's offerings on-line, and lunch time with what I like to call the independent, semi-corporate media. Yes, I'm blissfully ignorant, but it's been that way for a good five years. And it probably won't change until I decide to move to a town where the most entertaining portion of the newspaper is not the daily letters and opinions section.

Since when did editors feel the irrational need to allow a once-weekly religious food fight to occur on their pages? If I were a potential advertiser I certainly would not spend my money to market there...unless I was selling alcohol, tobacco or firearms.

Okay, so each one of us has our vice. Mine is physical activity and recreational chemicals...but I repeat myself. I felt much like Bob this morning after my swim workout. Thank God for my wife; she made a pot of coffee this morning when she finally got out of bed to prepare for her work (usually after I've departed to swim/spin and work). Of course, today she had to suffer without her foo-foo, the flavored and mildly sweetened non-dairy creamer she purchases by the pint. I'm a straight, hot, strong black coffee kind of guy (tubinado sugar and skim milk is for the weekend); foo-foo is for road trips, especially if I've made the supreme mistake of buying coffee at Krispy Kreme (where it's burned and reconstituted, beyond the darkest roast Starbucks could imagine in their wildest dreams) or Krystal (where half the cup is filled with grounds, as I learned in New Orleans)...and I won't even mention Circle K.

Mickey D's puts the milk and sugar in for you. Of course, the rhetorical question, WHY!? Outside of the obvious fact they are cheap b@$t@rd$ and want to minimize waste I think it's so you don't know just how flippin' lame their coffee is in the first place. Sorry, I'll be like my German friends and suffer for another half hour on the Interstate until I can get to a Starbucks (or in the case of that particular road trip, Community Coffee in Slidell, LA).

We started getting in the longer road runs on Sunday, starting last week. One of my athletes planned to do 16 miles, and I probably would have joined her, save for the fact I actually felt good and didn't want to kill myself this early in the autumn. Fortunately, she was stoopid enough to think she could handle two hours of Tae-Bo and follow it with 5,000 meters of jogging. I see a new workout video; remember Buns of Steel, Abs of Steel and all those? A two-hour Tae-Bo workout, followed by 5,000 meters of jogging, will be titled Skulls of Steel. Sorry, Stacie. I love you, kid, but I had to give you just a little more grief. I'm your coach. That's my job.

At the three-mile mark on the course we usually run, there is a long downhill, followed by a long uphill, which usually whacks all of us squarely in the @$$ and reminds us we're all stoopid. At the bridge over the bayou in between these hills there was the highly-flattened carcass of an animal; I'm not certain what species, breed or size it was (it was a big truck, though), but it reminded me of two very important things:

1. Life is short. You're dead a long time.
2. Speedwork is underrated.

Today is my last day in this particular age group (well, USA Triathlon already moved me up, since they consider your age on December 31 to be your competition age). I'm not freaking out too much about aging; usually I have a lot of introspection during this month. I tend to think long and hard on things during September because of the High Holy Days, the change of seasons, the end of fiscal years, and strange stuff like that which is out of my control. This time, however, it's been more, 'time to get moving, Coach.' And so I think I will.

As the Maori say: Kia Kaha. Stand Strong.