So How's That Integrity Thing Working For You?

Доверяй, но проверяй. (Doveryai, no proveryai. - Trust, but verify.) - Russian proverb, frequently used by V.I. Lenin, borrowed by Ronald Reagan

Over the past several days I've chewed, digested, regurgitated, held down, subsequently thrown-up and (like my dog) returned to fallout from a personal and professional (measurement) misadventure which has taught me a great deal about my own personal integrity as well as that of others. Explaining the source of the mistake to the parties most-affected by it has helped, providing a possible solution set a little more so...but outside of a few family members and a business colleague I expect no more in the way of comfort.

I'm not certain if my grandson Simon knows how much help he's been in the past four hours. He and his "Grammy" went to the movies last night. He asked her to give me his bag of one of my favorite candies. I absent-mindedly tucked them into the cup-holder of my vehicle and forgot about them until this morning...after I spent sixty minutes of mea culpa-ing to a very concerned race director. For the second time. Over the course of three days. Sometimes unconditional love for a part-time coach/part-time measurer/full-time curmudgeon can be a little hard to come by. Sometimes you have to consider the source; a person who considers another's humor to be caustic might be lacking in a sense of the very same quality.

'So. How's that integrity thing working for you?' you might ask.

Pretty darn good. Painful in the short term. But sleep comes a little easier with it than without.

Perhaps that's why it's good to have a second (or third) set of eyes/ears around; why we always ask "who is checking the checker?" When our labors, our workouts, and our decisions stay within that easily-maintained comfort zone they can easily become sloppy, lazy and complacent without having someone available to ask the accountability questions. We soon cut corners and round up (or round-down, depending on what makes us look better) the numbers. Then when the big job, the big race, the big project comes along we get caught shorting the course, fudging the budget, doing the walk of shame. Our number gets posted on the big, public penalty sheet with a "disqualification" after it - or worse, our story gets printed in section A of the newspaper of record with the words "fraud," "deception," or "cheating" attached.

Reputations have been tarnished as a result of terribly small errors, spread wide. Ask any politician who had the brass ring slip from their grasp. Ask any Olympian who had to return a medal. For every person who "came clean" about their transgressions, paid their penance and were permitted to return to their profession there have been that many and more who denied the accusations and were finally found out...those are the persons who are never able to regain their reputation.

It's easier to point to a bad piece of meat (in more ways than one), but, my parents used to tell me: 'when you point a finger (at someone else) there's three still pointing back at yourself.'

Feeling Positive About The Negatives

(Sandy - 1st Female Overall, Chris - 1st Master's Male, & MB after the Jingle Bell 10K)

So the plan was for 14 miles this weekend. However, my friend Scott (a.k.a. Knaves) asked if I was going to come over to Ft. Walton Beach, FL for the Arthritis Foundation Jingle Bell 10K. The last time I ran this race - seven years ago - it was 30 degrees colder & 20 miles per hour windier on the day. My friend Sandy was trying to PR at the 10k; her boyfriend Chris, & Brian, another friend, were going to pace her. Chris & Brian left her hanging in the wind for the last two miles, so I ran her in. She got her PR, which lasted for seven years, (which she reminded me the other day!), & I had a great time strutting my stuff in the chill. Of course, I was very (5K & 10K) race-healthy then. Now, working toward a marathon, with questionable achilles' tendons, it might have been a tad stupid to race. But, Suzanne & I like Knaves, & the race was late enough in the morning, so...

Chris warmed up with Suzanne & me before Sandy, Brian, Chris & I jogged the first mile of the course. He said to me: 'you going to do 39 today?' Of course, my answer was, 'Not today. This is part of the long run for the weekend. Just going out to have some fun.' Once the race started, it definitely was fun, all right.

I normally blow past 90-percent of the field at the first mile, after which it's no-man's-land for the remainder of the race; the studs leave me way behind & I'm strung out in between the really good runners & the fairly good ones. But this time, I went easy the first mile with Knaves, then slowly started to ratchet up the pace. Amazingly, I picked off runners here & there on the course between mile three & four. One guy said to me as I went by at mile four, 'nice kick.' I wasn't too certain about the tactics of the day, even at that point; I smiled (Maybe that was a grimace; they both look alike from a distance.) & told him so.

Passing a couple of greyhounds (Real greyhounds - they had a dog walk at the same time.) at the fifth mile, & all I could think was 'how much longer can I do this?' It was probably good I couldn't read my heart rate monitor, only my pace; I probably would have backed off. Fortunately for me there was still about three runners hanging out in front of me; I couldn't tell how cute the female was, but she was definitely working the pace up there. By the time I got to her, & then the sixth mile, I was running a pace about five seconds per mile slower than my half-marathon performance time, & about 20 seconds per mile slower than my "healthy" 10K pace.

Even if I hadn't won my age group I was very pleased with the effort, especially three weeks after my half-marathon meltdown. To top it all off, Suzanne took second place in her age group. It's not often when two Bowens score hardware, so when we do it's cause for celebration.

Now for the rest the story:

I'm going to make a confession. I have a nasty tendency to look at things & see 'opportunities for improvement.' Rarely, if ever, have I said to myself while hanging out with friends, athletes, loved ones & assorted sweaty lunatic friends: 'dude, today you ran a perfect race.' Maybe all of twice in the past decade of racing the 'perfect race' has happened; a PR at the Azalea Trail Run 10K in Mobile, & a consistent pace at a hot, early summer 5K here at home.

While I've always sought out & valued consistency above almost any other quality in life, the only thing which I've considered more difficult (the negativity most every racer seeks!) to accomplish is negative split racing. Why is this so difficult to accomplish?

First, most runners don't exercise discipline & restraint while training. They're more likely to run EVERY workout at the same effort; so rather than following the hard day/easy day, or even the hard day/easy day/easier day dictum, it's (I kid you not, I have a friend who does this:) 5K, every day, all-out. At least until they become injured, but that's another story.

Second, many runners who have the physical fitness don't quite have the emotional or mental fitness to race negative. These are the friends who, when you ask to them about their goal time before the race, will tell you they want to go out at a particular pace. When the horn goes off, however, it's a completely different story. The first mile herd instinct & adrenaline pitches the best laid plans in the rubbish, leaving them to suffer for the last two (or more) miles of the race.

Third, the runners who are smart enough to go out easy early misjudge how much faster they should increase the pace over time; there's either too much 'gas in the tank' when they reach the finish, or they begin to fade in the last mile. Racing negative splits is a trial-and-error process; once you do it right it will be your Holy Grail of sorts.

What do you need to race negative splits?

I cannot over-stress the benefit of training runs at different intensity levels, with & without the aid of GPS, heart rate monitors & running watches. Why do I say 'without' as well as 'with?' You never know when you're going to show up on race day WITHOUT your running watch or your GPS (which almost happened this weekend!), or your battery dies, or the course is marked poorly...so know how a particular pace on the road or track 'feels' to the legs, heart & lungs.

Here's an interesting idea: Toe the line with a solid racing plan - this particular intensity or pace for a particular section of the course, pick up the pace to a higher intensity after this point, & then begin to really push at this point, etc. - follow it as much as possible. Trust your plan; don't go out with the herd. If your plan is solid the odds are very high you're going to catch & probably pass them before it's all over.

And, most importantly: Don't place any stressful or unrealistic expectations on yourself. Face it, the vast majority of us are paying money to terrorize squirrels & cats (followed by socializing!) on a weekend morning when most of our co-workers are still sleeping. For a very small, less-than-one-percent of the population, what SHOULD BE fun & games for you is BIG PRESENTATION DAY at the office for them.

If it's not fun, you probably should be looking for something else to do, right?

"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 Nice Thing...

"Let a hundred flowers bloom; let a hundred schools of thought contend." - classic Chinese poem borrowed by Mao Zedong, ca. 1957

Athletes who identify themselves as part of a training group can be divided into three categories: Those who buy into their coach's plan, those who ascribe to an eclectic plan (their coach and one or more other coaches), and those who ascribe to their own plan.

As an athlete/coach, I'm not so certain which category I fit. Then again, it's not so much about me (I have three coaches; one for my running, one for strength and one for swimming) as it is about you.

My knee-jerk reaction is to suggest you get with one coach and trust them implicitly. My religious cult-survivor reaction is to suggest you have a coach, but take an active role in your training. Read. Ask questions. Talk about how you're feeling in between workouts. Lay out your plan, then get feedback. Adjust as necessary.

Should the athlete/coach relationship be beer and skittles? I don't think so. There's always an underlying clash of wills, IMHO, when a good athlete and a good coach come together. Think Cerrutty and Elliott, Bowerman and Prefontaine, Warhurst and Webb, Bowman and Phelps.

Most of my athletes were formerly teammates, so I'm not as much of a hard-@$$ on them as I could be. In many ways it's a benefit; they know I won't assign a workout I haven't tried myself. They know exactly what I'm doing day in and day out; some train beside me three, four, five days a week. Others I know know their body better than I; I'll recommend, take their input, suggest...and often sit back and say "did I tell you?" when they realize the (easier) effort I assigned would have done the trick.

The goal of training with a coach is to get an outside influence (point of view) while you're learning what works best for you. Since great athletes are known (more often) for switching coaches as their needs change, it's not unrealistic to expect you won't need to move on to another coach over time. Just make certain it's one at a time...most coaches are a jealous lot.