No sooner had I posted an article - with research references - on the benefit of an amino acid, one of the major ingredients contained in an energy drink, my friend Pete asks me, "...so should I drink a can of the energy drink before a race or not? Do the drawbacks outweigh the benefits?"
Four days earlier, over a beer, I had a chat with a friend who has been bitten by the triathlon bug. He asked me about the relative merits of one particular race over another. He also commented about a friend's expenditures and asked whether he should spend his money on a particular triathlon outfit, or invest in coaching. Maybe it's because of personal experience or perspective that I get questioned about training and racing. I write a lot of these pieces with the goal that the reader will think more deeply about training, equipment, racing, and the citizen-athletic life in general. I hope the person who reads this will look more closely at what is being marketed as truth, try it on for size, and see what works best and what is bupkis.
I guess if this blog were titled: "I'm Your Coach, Darn It, So Do What I Say..." I could provide a response to my friends like Ernest Hemingway; strong, to-the-point, and decisive. I could say: "You will achieve a 1-to-2 percent gain in your 5K race performance, guaranteed, if you drink a 12-ounce can of this drink approximately two hours prior to the race start." Or, "you would be better off taking the money you spend for this non-sanctioned race and working with a swim coach for three months." Or, "Being a triathlete, swimmer, runner, or cyclist is not an 'X-to-Y' season, especially when we spend so much money to participate in an event; it is a year-long lifestyle decision."
Physiology, and psychology for that matter, is much like religious belief. What works for one person might not be the best thing for another. Even in a population with so many similarities variances exist. When it comes to sports physiology, I prefer to place my trust and confidence in a handful of researchers and writers; the overwhelming majority have multiple sets of initials after their name, the ones who may lack in titles academic have successfully guided athletes to titles athletic. As for matters spiritual, that's two-or-three pay grades above my level. Methodist ministers have been a reasonable (and approachable) source during my past, but if you can't find one of them close by a comparative religion professor may do the trick.
If I could change one thing about the present it would be my (flawed) perception of myself. I feel less like a coach - someone who instructs and counsels athletes through training and example - and more like a "guru." And to me, "guru" has negative connotations. My counsel to an athlete often comes from "making stupid mistakes." So, when the person asking my opinion goes and does the complete polar opposite I feel invalidated. Unlike a guru, I have nothing to sell, and I harbor few strong dogmatic beliefs when it comes to training. In fact, there have been many situations where I have either graciously backpedaled from a previously-held point of view, or at least explained in 25-words-or-less my reasons for holding one. I'd rather have folks come see me at the track rather than climb the mountain. Easier that way to get them to buy-in to what I have to say. Not what I have to sell.
So, How Many Hats Do You Wear?
- Michael Bowen
- Pensacola, Florida, United States
- Husband. *Dog Dad.* Instructional Systems Specialist. Runner. (Swim-challenged) Triathlete (on hiatus). USATF LDR Surveyor. USAT (Elite Rules) CRO/2, NTO/1. RRCA Rep., FL (North). Observer Of The Human Condition.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Red Bull: The (Nearly) Two-Percent Solution
Spend enough time with a demographic which closely resembles the target viewing audience for adventure sporting events, and you cannot help but notice the large drink cans close by. Even after nine weeks of boot camp, with plenty of exercise and the finest food the military has to offer, (all right, there's a good reason the dining facilities are called "mess halls) the young men and women I encountered on a weekly basis in my classroom drank can after can of sugary "energy drinks."
When my wife makes the decision to party she doesn't hit the white zinfandel or the belgian Trappist ale. She resorts to a very popular energy drink, often mixed with vodka. The drink mixture makes as much sense as my Sunday brunch switch between a large cup of Seattle's finest export, the name of which rhymes with "four bucks," and a chilled flute of mimosa. Take enough of the stuff in and you have a buzz in two different forms...a very alert drunk. But that's a different editorial statement altogether.
The folks who make the beverage in the little blue and silver cans seem to be everywhere in the past couple of months. Whether it's a guy who wants to go the speed of sound without an aircraft or a bunch of runners who want to outrun roller derby girls, the beverage and it's logo is darned near ubiquitous. And the advertising is more, er, mature now. I haven't seen as many of the silly black-and-white line-drawing animated cartoons. They're back to focusing on a message of: 'drink this if you want to go farther than anyone else.'
That little blue and silver can...what's it got? Well, about the same amount of sugar or sweetener as a typical soda...about 65 percent of the caffeine of the same sized coffee...some B-vitamins, a chemical found in detox drinks, and the amino acid taurine. If you're used to drinking coffee before a race or a workout, there's a really good chance you probably won't be hurt drinking the beverage that reportedly "gives you wings." In fact, it's not just the caffeine that may help your run performance, but the taurine.
First, taurine is commonly found in skeletal muscle, cardiac muscle and brain tissue; the chemical has been suspected to have a strong role in a number of physiological actions but until recently there was little research done. Four researchers in the United Kingdom recently investigated the amino acid's effect on endurance performance, testing run performance for a three-kilometer time trial. They found the subjects who took the taurine two hours prior to a maximum simulated 3K effort on a treadmill improved their performance by an average of 1.7 (and up to 4.2) percent, without appreciable change in heart rate, oxygen intake or perceived effort. The researchers weren't able to explain the specific reason for the improved performance, however.
But, the little aluminum can is not necessarily the "two percent solution." Energy drinks containing the two known ergogenics (caffeine and taurine) in other studies were shown to aid in endurance and resistance to fatigue, but the additional ingredients may slow or limit the body's ability to benefit from them.
REFERENCE: Balshaw, TG, Bampouras, TM, Barry, TJ, Sparks, A (2012). The effect of acute taurine ingestion on 3-km running performance in trained middle distance runners. Amino acids. Springer-Verlag, Aug 2
When my wife makes the decision to party she doesn't hit the white zinfandel or the belgian Trappist ale. She resorts to a very popular energy drink, often mixed with vodka. The drink mixture makes as much sense as my Sunday brunch switch between a large cup of Seattle's finest export, the name of which rhymes with "four bucks," and a chilled flute of mimosa. Take enough of the stuff in and you have a buzz in two different forms...a very alert drunk. But that's a different editorial statement altogether.
The folks who make the beverage in the little blue and silver cans seem to be everywhere in the past couple of months. Whether it's a guy who wants to go the speed of sound without an aircraft or a bunch of runners who want to outrun roller derby girls, the beverage and it's logo is darned near ubiquitous. And the advertising is more, er, mature now. I haven't seen as many of the silly black-and-white line-drawing animated cartoons. They're back to focusing on a message of: 'drink this if you want to go farther than anyone else.'
That little blue and silver can...what's it got? Well, about the same amount of sugar or sweetener as a typical soda...about 65 percent of the caffeine of the same sized coffee...some B-vitamins, a chemical found in detox drinks, and the amino acid taurine. If you're used to drinking coffee before a race or a workout, there's a really good chance you probably won't be hurt drinking the beverage that reportedly "gives you wings." In fact, it's not just the caffeine that may help your run performance, but the taurine.
First, taurine is commonly found in skeletal muscle, cardiac muscle and brain tissue; the chemical has been suspected to have a strong role in a number of physiological actions but until recently there was little research done. Four researchers in the United Kingdom recently investigated the amino acid's effect on endurance performance, testing run performance for a three-kilometer time trial. They found the subjects who took the taurine two hours prior to a maximum simulated 3K effort on a treadmill improved their performance by an average of 1.7 (and up to 4.2) percent, without appreciable change in heart rate, oxygen intake or perceived effort. The researchers weren't able to explain the specific reason for the improved performance, however.
But, the little aluminum can is not necessarily the "two percent solution." Energy drinks containing the two known ergogenics (caffeine and taurine) in other studies were shown to aid in endurance and resistance to fatigue, but the additional ingredients may slow or limit the body's ability to benefit from them.
REFERENCE: Balshaw, TG, Bampouras, TM, Barry, TJ, Sparks, A (2012). The effect of acute taurine ingestion on 3-km running performance in trained middle distance runners. Amino acids. Springer-Verlag, Aug 2
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Refrigerator Door Expectations
Once upon a time there was a young man. He possessed a keen mind, loved to read, and was - in the words of his maternal grandmother - a bit of a chatterbox. Unfortunately, his handwriting skills were less-than-stellar. He could not make the letters look exactly like the ones stapled over the chalkboard; his third grade teacher did not less about his reading comprehension or his verbal ability, she cared only about his penmanship. She insulted his writing efforts once in front of his classmates, which had the exact opposite effect of her intentions. He completely gave up on all of his scholastic efforts for the remainder of the year, doing just enough to get by.
The same young man adapted over time, learning to use a typewriter and used neat block lettering for all of his handwriting efforts. Surprisingly, he decided to become a teacher, and learned early on in his education studies about the work of Robert Rosenthal. Rosenthal was a professor at Harvard University, who asked in the mid-1960s if the expectations of outside influencers - like teachers, parents, and so forth - could mean the difference between positive and negative outcomes in the household, school, workplace. Setting a reasonably-high standard, believing the standard could be made, and communicating that belief in many different ways? Rosenthal learned that teachers who believed their students could achieve had students who could - and did - achieve. And yes, teachers who doubted a student could succeed were more likely to see that student struggle or fail.
The same young man adapted over time, learning to use a typewriter and used neat block lettering for all of his handwriting efforts. Surprisingly, he decided to become a teacher, and learned early on in his education studies about the work of Robert Rosenthal. Rosenthal was a professor at Harvard University, who asked in the mid-1960s if the expectations of outside influencers - like teachers, parents, and so forth - could mean the difference between positive and negative outcomes in the household, school, workplace. Setting a reasonably-high standard, believing the standard could be made, and communicating that belief in many different ways? Rosenthal learned that teachers who believed their students could achieve had students who could - and did - achieve. And yes, teachers who doubted a student could succeed were more likely to see that student struggle or fail.
I have a full-page sheet of paper on my refrigerator door with the training plan for the first 22 weeks of the calendar year laid out. Days where I run, days where I cross-train, rest days and the goal duration to spend during each day's workout session or sessions; all of the information is in black and white. Since I'm still in the process of building strength, endurance and overall fitness and not focused on a particular race distance, the workouts are straightforward base-building. Six weeks into the 22, the calendar shows more positive markings; workouts accomplished, intensities met, sometimes even both. Every filled block is a step in what I hope is the right direction, travel toward the desired goal.
The calendar on the fridge, with its "big picture" notations, are the macro version of my little daily workout spreadsheet. I don't post mileage or anything quantitative; there are only three types of marks on the calendar, corresponding to a qualitative standard - really good, good, or not-so-good. One mark reminds me I met both the intensity and duration goals for the day, if I met the duration but not the intensity I place a different mark on the calendar. If by some reason I didn't work out at all - unless I am sick or traveling - I mark the date with a big, fat "X." Naturally, that's a "not-so-good" day.
So far, there have only been four of those "X" days. And a few days where I didn't get the duration or intensity I hoped, because of outside issues. But I have to admit I've met or exceeded expectations more often than not. I don't need to scour through the spreadsheet to tell myself things are improving. And if I feel a little too lazy and start to think about cracking open a beer rather than going for a run, all I have to do is take a look at the "big picture" on the refrigerator door.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
(Out of) My Vulcan Mind
Three days after the fact I can safely say I don't ever want to do anything like that again.
Define "that." "That" is short for 'run a distance race in an undertrained state.'
Even the definition of "undertrained" can be kind of nebulous and squishy. To differentiate between the two most common forms, there's "undertrained," as in "haven't done as many long runs, or speed workouts as I would have preferred." That's a more-tolerable and more-desirable state. There have been some of those worried chats before, where I've told one or two of my own (panicky) athletes their one-toke-short-of-the-line state wasn't such a bad thing. That form of undertrained is much better than being overtrained (under-recovered).
Then there's the other "undertrained" state. That's the one that's most simply defined as "insufficient training volume for the target distance," or the "just lay it out there and pray to whatever gods may be that muscle memory saves the day" state.
In some quarters it's also known, politely, as "extracting a race effort from a portion of the runner's nether region."
When athletes I've worked with in the past have told me "I'm thinking about going to do the (insert event name here), but I haven't trained for it..." in the overwhelming majority of cases the next sound they hear from my mouth sounds like a cross between screaming and...
The first 40 minutes went almost like a charm. Only a few seconds off the pace I would have loved to have completed for the entire race. The second 40 minutes went almost according to plan. Reality began to set in at about 1:15, aboutt the time when I normally finish my Sunday morning runs. Trouble was I had somewhere between four and five miles left. With two miles to go I could feel the first twinges in my left calf, which really slowed the flow of progress. A little adjustment, a little self-talk, and a little music had me back on track. I finished in 1:56, and suspect if I had run steady for the second 40-minute piece my finish would have been around the same as my previous half-marathon...eight months ago.
The lesson I hope you take away from this is: There's a range of training volume - distance, intensity, time - which is perfect for each race distance. A runner doing 60 miles a week can get away with running a 5,000-meter road race, and might do it with a 2-to-3 mile warm-up/cool-down. On the other hand, a 20-mile-a-week guy (or gal) who jumps into a half-marathon is asking for trouble...especially if it's their first one. A more-experienced runner might get away with being a little under-prepared, but they're more likely...transiently...out of their Vulcan mind.
Define "that." "That" is short for 'run a distance race in an undertrained state.'
Even the definition of "undertrained" can be kind of nebulous and squishy. To differentiate between the two most common forms, there's "undertrained," as in "haven't done as many long runs, or speed workouts as I would have preferred." That's a more-tolerable and more-desirable state. There have been some of those worried chats before, where I've told one or two of my own (panicky) athletes their one-toke-short-of-the-line state wasn't such a bad thing. That form of undertrained is much better than being overtrained (under-recovered).
Then there's the other "undertrained" state. That's the one that's most simply defined as "insufficient training volume for the target distance," or the "just lay it out there and pray to whatever gods may be that muscle memory saves the day" state.
In some quarters it's also known, politely, as "extracting a race effort from a portion of the runner's nether region."
When athletes I've worked with in the past have told me "I'm thinking about going to do the (insert event name here), but I haven't trained for it..." in the overwhelming majority of cases the next sound they hear from my mouth sounds like a cross between screaming and...
Even I asked myself a couple of months ago that very question, "Bones."
Suzanne had the temerity to suggest last week that I hang back in the same corral with her and Teri, amble along and watch the sights at a pace which would have been about 65 percent of my planned effort. Ah, but I remembered all-too-well trying to hold back and run with Suzanne...at 50-to-60 percent of my ability...about four years ago. Frustrating for her. Painful for me.
Suzanne had the temerity to suggest last week that I hang back in the same corral with her and Teri, amble along and watch the sights at a pace which would have been about 65 percent of my planned effort. Ah, but I remembered all-too-well trying to hold back and run with Suzanne...at 50-to-60 percent of my ability...about four years ago. Frustrating for her. Painful for me.
So, it was time to pull out the proverbial "plan B" for the morning. I had already penciled in the need to do 40-minute workouts (running, spinning, rowing, or lifting) during the week. Why not use this time as a workout in the presence of 20,000 friends...most of whom still owed me at least one beer? The first 40 minutes would be a great time for a moderate-pace run, after which the crowd would probably thin out enough to let me get about 40 minutes of "speed work" in. After that I figured the next 10-to-30 minutes would serve as that "extraction from the nether region" time. If I felt great I'd drop the hammer, and if not I'd smile and let the crowd pull me along to the finish.
The first 40 minutes went almost like a charm. Only a few seconds off the pace I would have loved to have completed for the entire race. The second 40 minutes went almost according to plan. Reality began to set in at about 1:15, aboutt the time when I normally finish my Sunday morning runs. Trouble was I had somewhere between four and five miles left. With two miles to go I could feel the first twinges in my left calf, which really slowed the flow of progress. A little adjustment, a little self-talk, and a little music had me back on track. I finished in 1:56, and suspect if I had run steady for the second 40-minute piece my finish would have been around the same as my previous half-marathon...eight months ago.
The lesson I hope you take away from this is: There's a range of training volume - distance, intensity, time - which is perfect for each race distance. A runner doing 60 miles a week can get away with running a 5,000-meter road race, and might do it with a 2-to-3 mile warm-up/cool-down. On the other hand, a 20-mile-a-week guy (or gal) who jumps into a half-marathon is asking for trouble...especially if it's their first one. A more-experienced runner might get away with being a little under-prepared, but they're more likely...transiently...out of their Vulcan mind.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Good Running, Good Records
"You're going to WHAT!?"
In the month since I made a resolution to 'resist more,' I have received a few funny looks and one or two shocked comments from the people closest to me. My wife is used to a certain degree of over-dedication after eight-plus years of marriage. My passing comment over Sunday brunch was something along the lines of, "I'll have to limit myself to one beer; I'm going to put some time in on the rowing ergometer at the gym and watch the football game."
"That's obsessive," said Teri, our mutual friend and training companion, to which I replied, "That's correct." I guess it takes an obsessive character to recognize a person with similar traits. Teri and my wife are alike in their minimalist attitude; forget any big, fancy GPS, heart rate-tracking, number-crunching gadget...a running watch, perhaps, but little more. On the other hand, she constantly badgers me at the tail-end of every Sunday morning group run, to find out exactly how far we ran.
Teri knows the exact distance of the other run routes she does during the week, but we rotate between different venues and loops for our weekend run. I like to throw a little monkey-wrenching into their training regimes; a hill here, a grass trail there. Suzanne told me, "it's for her spreadsheet. She tracks every run she does. Teri's recordkeeping is not as obsessive-compulsive as yours, but she comes close."
Good record-keeping, in my humble opinion, leads to good running. An injury is more often the outcome of a sudden change in training - in distance, in intensity, in terrain - or the failure to heed a warning sign, like the "death" of a favorite pair of shoes. Once a runner has the essential gear and the essential information available, it's time to start storing it in a way which lets the information tell the running story. I used to use a spiral-bound running log (John Jerome's The Runner's Training Log) which provided blocks for each day's run, with some great event distance pace information and macro-level charts (miles/hours per week/month) in the appendices. Tracking distance (kilometers/miles), duration (minutes/hours) and intensity (heart rate/perceived effort), as well as other little specifics about location was simple.
What was hard was the number juggling involved to keep track of shoe mileage. One pair of shoes is simple, naturally. Two pairs also isn't all that tough. But if you're trying to rotate in or out more than one pair, or in my case rotating three pairs, it might take a little more computing power. That's when I stumbled upon David Hays' Running Log; a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet which was laden with bells and whistles. Seemed simple enough to use; enter the date, distance, time, average heart rate, pair of shoes you wore, run type, and comments like daily weight. Clank, hoot...I've got paces, mileage totals, mileage on shoes, trend weight, and so on, and so on. Not so bad for the first year, except for the fact the file became more unwieldy around October or November...too much data. And then you had to start with a fresh log next year.
Some persons would most likely consider my record-keeping structure to be a little bit of overkill. I've found, as time progresses, the most important trend factors which affect my running quality-of-life and tell me where things might be going wrong. But good records are part and parcel with good running.
In the month since I made a resolution to 'resist more,' I have received a few funny looks and one or two shocked comments from the people closest to me. My wife is used to a certain degree of over-dedication after eight-plus years of marriage. My passing comment over Sunday brunch was something along the lines of, "I'll have to limit myself to one beer; I'm going to put some time in on the rowing ergometer at the gym and watch the football game."
"That's obsessive," said Teri, our mutual friend and training companion, to which I replied, "That's correct." I guess it takes an obsessive character to recognize a person with similar traits. Teri and my wife are alike in their minimalist attitude; forget any big, fancy GPS, heart rate-tracking, number-crunching gadget...a running watch, perhaps, but little more. On the other hand, she constantly badgers me at the tail-end of every Sunday morning group run, to find out exactly how far we ran.
Teri knows the exact distance of the other run routes she does during the week, but we rotate between different venues and loops for our weekend run. I like to throw a little monkey-wrenching into their training regimes; a hill here, a grass trail there. Suzanne told me, "it's for her spreadsheet. She tracks every run she does. Teri's recordkeeping is not as obsessive-compulsive as yours, but she comes close."
Good record-keeping, in my humble opinion, leads to good running. An injury is more often the outcome of a sudden change in training - in distance, in intensity, in terrain - or the failure to heed a warning sign, like the "death" of a favorite pair of shoes. Once a runner has the essential gear and the essential information available, it's time to start storing it in a way which lets the information tell the running story. I used to use a spiral-bound running log (John Jerome's The Runner's Training Log) which provided blocks for each day's run, with some great event distance pace information and macro-level charts (miles/hours per week/month) in the appendices. Tracking distance (kilometers/miles), duration (minutes/hours) and intensity (heart rate/perceived effort), as well as other little specifics about location was simple.
What was hard was the number juggling involved to keep track of shoe mileage. One pair of shoes is simple, naturally. Two pairs also isn't all that tough. But if you're trying to rotate in or out more than one pair, or in my case rotating three pairs, it might take a little more computing power. That's when I stumbled upon David Hays' Running Log; a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet which was laden with bells and whistles. Seemed simple enough to use; enter the date, distance, time, average heart rate, pair of shoes you wore, run type, and comments like daily weight. Clank, hoot...I've got paces, mileage totals, mileage on shoes, trend weight, and so on, and so on. Not so bad for the first year, except for the fact the file became more unwieldy around October or November...too much data. And then you had to start with a fresh log next year.
- So now I use a greatly simplified spreadsheet, which consists of three sections:
- The first section has the date, planned workout time, type of workout (swim, bike, row, run, or lift), the distance in yards or miles, and the time spent. This allows me to track how much time I spend compared to my goal for the week.
- The second section tracks the amount of aerobic activity based on distance swam, rowed, cycled or run; developed by Slowtwitch.com's Dan Empfield: In short, 100 yards of swimming is like two minutes of rowing, or a mile of cycling, or 400 meters of running, or five minutes of intense weight training. It's not perfect but it provides the closest apples-to-apples approximation when you're spending as much time in an orange grove as an apple orchard.
Some persons would most likely consider my record-keeping structure to be a little bit of overkill. I've found, as time progresses, the most important trend factors which affect my running quality-of-life and tell me where things might be going wrong. But good records are part and parcel with good running.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
What Do You Want?
Since I made the decision to return to active coaching, I cannot say people have been breaking down the door, or welcomed me back with open arms. When I scheduled the first training session on the same day as a non-competitive "color run" I harbored no unrealistic expectations. Blessed are the coaches who set the bar low at the beginning, for they are are almost always not disappointed.
I chose Saturday mornings at eight o'clock because of the blend of daylight and warmth this time of year; also a tip of the hat to folks who enjoy an adult beverage of choice during a Friday afternoon or evening. Not surprisingly, several persons said this would not do; there were races to attend on Saturday morning. Sunday morning group runs are already on my schedule, and I had no desire to wedge a group workout into an already-filled week of run groups.
It's enough to make a guy want to curl up in a fetal position and engage in serious thumb-sucking. Or take a drive and listen to public radio programming. I listened to a TED talk by author Malcolm Gladwell, on the topic of choice, happiness, and spaghetti sauce. Yes, spaghetti sauce. The talk was entertaining, interesting, and insightful, but I cannot say it was a moment which saw me sit in the driveway until the end. But I did take away a couple of bits of good information. I watched a YouTube clip of Gladwell's talk this morning. The entire talk focused on the work of Howard Moskowitz. If you like chunky spaghetti sauce, Moskowitz is the man to which you need to raise your glass in salute. If Moskowitz were a running coach, he would probably provide this piece of advice: "There is no perfect pickle; there are perfect pickles."
There are training runs and types of workouts which are absolutely necessary training for improving speed, endurance and running efficiency; volumes/intensities which need to be honored, but the paths up the mountain are diverse and individual. So why do people; fiercely individualistic, diverse beyond measure, make the conscious decision to remain mediocre?
I've asked people what they want as a runner. Gladwell says during his TED talk that when asked what we want we often say one thing, yet truly desire another. The people who say they want to become faster runners, or who desire to increase their fitness, also make the conscious decision to participate in every social, participatory or competitive running event, even when they know the participation is not going to enhance their fitness or make them a better runner. So, maybe they REALLY want to participate in the same events, and engage in the same level of mediocrity, as their friends?
I chose Saturday mornings at eight o'clock because of the blend of daylight and warmth this time of year; also a tip of the hat to folks who enjoy an adult beverage of choice during a Friday afternoon or evening. Not surprisingly, several persons said this would not do; there were races to attend on Saturday morning. Sunday morning group runs are already on my schedule, and I had no desire to wedge a group workout into an already-filled week of run groups.
It's enough to make a guy want to curl up in a fetal position and engage in serious thumb-sucking. Or take a drive and listen to public radio programming. I listened to a TED talk by author Malcolm Gladwell, on the topic of choice, happiness, and spaghetti sauce. Yes, spaghetti sauce. The talk was entertaining, interesting, and insightful, but I cannot say it was a moment which saw me sit in the driveway until the end. But I did take away a couple of bits of good information. I watched a YouTube clip of Gladwell's talk this morning. The entire talk focused on the work of Howard Moskowitz. If you like chunky spaghetti sauce, Moskowitz is the man to which you need to raise your glass in salute. If Moskowitz were a running coach, he would probably provide this piece of advice: "There is no perfect pickle; there are perfect pickles."
I've asked people what they want as a runner. Gladwell says during his TED talk that when asked what we want we often say one thing, yet truly desire another. The people who say they want to become faster runners, or who desire to increase their fitness, also make the conscious decision to participate in every social, participatory or competitive running event, even when they know the participation is not going to enhance their fitness or make them a better runner. So, maybe they REALLY want to participate in the same events, and engage in the same level of mediocrity, as their friends?
Thursday, January 10, 2013
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.
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.
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.
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