Connecting You to a Healthy Life!

Frustration: It’s a frustrating thing

Lately I’ve been frustrated. It doesn’t make me love my job or my family less, it’s simply a part of being human. The key, of course, is finding a healthy way to deal with frustration. Usually, I run. But what happens when running is one of the things that is frustrating?

I’ve been dealing with a nagging issue. I don’t want to call it an injury, because I’m not sure that’s what it is. Of course, I am not a doctor, nor a physical therapist, and I recognize that self-diagnosis has extended the frustration for me before, but I am stubborn and will not make the time to get things checked out. With that said, and with what I do know, it seems to be more of a muscular imbalance than a true injury. Sure, that might be the same to you, but for me, the label “injury” means something that I don’t want to deal with (mentally or physically).

When the thing that is your best medicine for frustration is a major source of frustration where do you turn? If I had a definitive answer, I would not still be frustrated. I have been working on balancing my perceived muscular imbalance, and that has helped. However the benefits are short-lived. Whereas a good run can keep me feeling good for a couple of days, the mental benefits of what I have been doing this week seem to wane in a couple of hours. Yes, it’s keeping me from boiling over, but it hasn’t been the cure. Life ebbs and flows like a babbling brook that rushes like a river, and maybe this is just a season in which the water level is high. Or maybe the key lies in the quote below:

“To conquer frustration, one must remain intensely focused on the outcome, not the obstacles.”    -T.F. Hodge

The Wildlife Marathon

As I wrote last week, my goal for this past marathon was to make it hurt. In that regard, I was successful. I was definitely hurting for the last eight miles.

It was a small race, only 60 runners in the full. The race started in the small village of Concord, MI. We ran through the bucolic (fun word to use) burg and onto a paved rails-to-trails. The leaves had popped and the sun was shining. It was as pretty as could be.

I went a little fast on the first mile because I could still see the first place guy, but I settled in to my three-hour pace. Being a small race, I was basically alone, but there were a few folks running within sight. The first five miles were on this trail and were pretty flat. Other than nearly getting hit by a biker pacing the guy who won the half marathon, this part was pretty uneventful.

After leaving the bike path, we ran on some back roads. These roads were all rolling hills. I was feeling fine and clicking off 6:45 miles fairly easily. The small hills put a little more strain on the pace, but it was okay.

Around mile 10 or so, we left the paved back roads and started running on gravel roads. This is easier on the legs, but they also return less energy than paved roads. That means runners expend more energy running on gravel than on pavement. Also, the hills became a little more challenging.

Around half way through the race, I started straining a little more. I kept chugging along at near a three-hour pace, but I started to re-evaluate my goals. I started thinking that a 3:10 finish would be pretty good. It would give me a new Boston-Qualifier. I ran for a few minutes with a guy who was doing his 70th marathon and would do his 50th state next week.

At mile 18, I saw my wonderful Curb Crew for the third time. They couldn’t tell, but this was also when I hit the wall. I took some solace in the fact that I was only 5k from the rails-to-trails which would be blessedly flat.

Hitting the wall is not very fun. It’s even less fun when you have eight miles left to go. I wanted to stop. I wanted to walk. I wanted to lie down. I thought about my last blog, though, and I pushed through the pain.

Pushing through the pain is much easier when you’re closing in on a PR. Last June in Duluth, I was hurting the last three miles, but I knew I had a chance to break 3:00. At the Wildlife Marathon in Concord, I wasn’t going to PR. I pushed as hard as I could. I was really just trying to fall off as little as possible. Glycogen depletion meant that I wasn’t going to be anywhere close to 7:00/mile. I made it hurt, though.

I did manage to pass a guy in these last few miles. It was his first marathon, and he had been running a sub-three pace. Now he was walking. I tried to encourage him, but I was struggling mightily. I never quit. I never gave up. I fought the pain and ran as fast as my body would allow.

I finally came to the finish line. My time could’ve been faster if I would have run the first half more conservatively. I’m glad I didn’t, though. If I ran races conservatively, then I never would have broken three hours. Sometimes you have to go hard and hang on. If you do, sometimes it leads to huge breakthroughs. Other times, you blow up. It’s a fine line between racing bravely and racing foolishly. I learned I could persevere through the pain even if my time goal was shot. That was enough for this race.

Racing

George Sheehan, running philosopher-king, once said the difference between a jogger and a runner is the signature on a race registration form. His point wasn’t that racers run faster than joggers; they don’t always. He was noting the fact that races force us to examine our commitment. They give us the opportunity to push ourselves and measure ourselves. Bill McKibbon, in Long Distance: Testing the Limits of Body and Spirit in a Year of Living Strenuously, trains for 12 months in the attempt to give “one supreme effort.” He says, “I’d never competed, taken on that risk to my body and my ego.”

Most of us don’t. Very few of us have areas where we can compare ourselves to anything in an objective manner. I’m not saying we need to compare ourselves to others necessarily, either. I can’t objectively compare my teaching now to my teaching ten years ago (no matter what the standardized test makers or the politicians say). Sure, I think I’m better now than I was then, but it’s not like racing. Even in racing, the numbers on the clock or the place on the podium don’t tell the whole story. The act of competing against myself, the clock, and the other runners pushes me to another level.

This next level focuses my mind. McKibben talks about being totally focused for the full 57 minutes of his first race. This focus is what leads to the emotional breakthroughs. It is what reaveals our true self. McKibben quotes Emily Jenkin’s book, Tongue First: Adventures in Physical Culture. She writes about her eight years of teaching aerobics saying, “I had not emotional experiences whatsoever. Only a sense of control over my body, which I ultimately believe is illusory.” Racing gives us an opportunity for that emotional experience. Sometimes it is good: We push through the agony of mile two in a 5k. Other times it is negative: we stop and walk up that third hill and get passed by half the field.

The competition of a race allows us to test our limits, to give that supreme effort. Only in a race can we push through the gut-busting pain or choose to ease up. As an English teacher, I know that there can be no growth, no story without conflict. The race introduces that internal conflict.

I’m racing tomorrow, and I hope I commit enough to make it hurt. I also hope I have the mental strength to give that supreme effort.

I’ll let ya know.

Patience (and not the kind at your doctor’s office)

“take it slow it’ll work itself out fine; all we need is just a little patience” -Guns ‘n Roses

I’ve had what feels like a hundred ideas for a blog this week, but with each one started came the realization that it just wasn’t quite right. So, I decided to take my family for a walk as inspiration. My amazing wife, my beautiful 3 year old daughter, and my rambunctious 6 year old mutt of a dog set out with me for a 0.7 mile journey around our block.

One thing you need to realize is that I really want to be able to take nightly walks with my family; I really want to enstill the joy of spending time outdoors being active. Another thing you need to realize is that going for a walk with my family is not enjoyable. For instance, have you ever seen a dog that walks so well that it doesn’t even need a leash? That’s not my dog. I know it’s completely my fault for the lack of proper training I gave her when she was still young, but it’s a constant tug-of-war between the two of us while we’re on our walk. It doesn’t help that we’re incredibly inconsistent when it comes to walking, so she’s never been able to really learn well. Then there’s the daughter. As any 3 year old, she moves at her own pace. Sometimes it’s incredibly fast – sometimes it’s incredibly slow. It’s rarely right at the pace we’re hoping for. On this particular evening, it was incredibly slow. Between admonishing the dog and encouraging the daughter, I had no time to talk to my wife. It was not enjoyable.

As we neared the end of our journey, I found myself thinking about patience and my lack thereof. Why do we get impatient? A simple answer is because we want things to be easier right now. We don’t care about the journey or the lessons learned along the way, we just want things to be easier right NOW. I want my dog to walk this walk like one of those dogs who don’t need a leash. I want my daughter to walk like a 30 year old. In that moment of impatience, I don’t care about her expressing her independence or finding her own path – I just want to have a nice walk.

We do this in other areas of life, too. We don’t allow time for processes to work or for things to develop in their own time – it’s the age we live in. I’m constantly frustrated at how “slow” my internet connection is at work. Then I remember that just 10 years ago, I was using dial-up. At least once a week I have someone come in the store and tell me about an injury that happened because they rushed into a training program or came back too quickly from a separate injury or tried to transition into a barefoot-type shoe without proper preparation. We live in a culture of instant gratification. If we want something, we want it now. My worry is that we’re missing out on the journey.

Wake up, sleepy head!

“If you love life, don’t waste time, for time is what life is made up of.” – Bruce Lee

“Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep”

It’s 6:00am, Saturday, I don’t even have to look. I stop the alarm clock and lay in bed. The debate rages in my mind: I really should get up….but it’s so comfortable here.

Typically the battle is won or lost the night before. What time I go to bed, what I eat or drink in the 2 hours leading up to that time, and the action of setting the alarm clock. But not this time. Nope, this time I did everything right the night before. I made sure I got 8 hours of sleep, I hydrated well (but not too well) before I hit the sack, and I promised myself I would get up when the alarm clock rang. This time, the true battle came in the morning.

I don’t know why it’s harder to wake up to an alarm clock on a Saturday. Being in retail, I work some Saturdays (I hesitate to say “lots” of Saturdays, because some other people in our store may beg to differ), and I do my best to treat them just like a weekday. But, alas, it is not a weekday. During the week, I usually pop right out of bed as soon as my alarm goes off – I’m ready to get the day started. But on the weekend….well, things are different. Imagine a 3 year old zombie – I’m slow, lethargic, and whiny. I guess you could say I’m generally unmotivated. It’s almost as if I’ve trained myself somewhere along the way (college) that the weekends were all about doing nothing. I know from experience that even if I don’t set the alarm, I don’t sleep in past 7:00 anymore, but there’s something inside me that says maybe, just maybe, I would have slept until 11:00 if it weren’t for that darned alarm clock.

The debate continues: You never regret getting up, but you almost always regret staying in bed.

As a coach, it is my job to get the most out of each athlete every day. As a coach, I’m afforded some kind of intrinsic authority that even teenage girls (usually) respect. They will do the workout I’ve prepared because they trust that I have a specific reason for the day’s exercise, no matter what it is. I also have the benefit of practice being in the afternoon, after school, and before they’ve gone home; they are there already, so they may as well come to practice, and since they are at practice, they may as well do the workout. As a coach of others, I have all this working for me. It’s too easy to say “no” to your coach when your coach is yourself.

It’s 6:07am, Saturday, this time I look that alarm clock straight in the face, roll out of bed, and prepare myself for an amazing run.

 

The Runners’ Book Club

The people have spoken. Last week I asked you to tell me which genre you preferred for our first book club. The majority chose a book about a regular runner.

The Long Run: A New York City Firefighter's Triumphant Comeback from Crash Victim to Elite Athlete

What is a regular runner? I decided that meant a runner who did not make a living from the sport. Then I wondered if Bart Yasso qualified. His book, My Life on the Run, is interesting and laugh-out-loud funny in parts. As an editor at Runner’s World he kind of makes his living through the sport, so I decided to save this book for another time.

Next I wondered about An Honorable Run. It is a book about a runner’s career at the University of Colorado. I thought this book was an interesting contrast to the book Running with the Buffaloes. I decided this was closer, but I wasn’t convinced that all runners could connect to this D-1 athlete talking about his hundred mile weeks. Again, this would make a great book club choice, but it’s not quite right for this meeting.

Finally, I landed on The Long Run: A New York City Firefighter’s Triumphant Comeback from Crash Victim to Elite Athlete by Matt Long. Some of you loyal subscribers to Runner’s World will recongnize Long’s story. He was a NYC firefighter, marathoner, and IronMan. As he trained for the Boston Marathon, he was hit by bus. Even though the sub-title characterizes him as an elite athlete, I think he can also fit into our category of “regular runner.” The book describes the accident and Long’s physical, mental, and emotional comeback as he focused on completing the New York City Marathon despite doctors’ cautions that he may never walk again.

I’m excited to read this book (it’s one of the few running books I haven’t read) and even more pumped to discuss it with you. I’m working on bringing a few more copies to the Holland location; try to pick it up soon.

I really recommend buying the book because it’s a lot easier to discuss he book if you can write in the margins and mark interesting sections. Also, the conversation will be much more fluid if everyone has completed the book, so if you’re a slow reader or just have a busy life, it helps to start reading it as soon as possible.

So, grab the book, start reading, jot down a few comments and questions, and get ready for the fun. We’ll meet on Thursday, August 25 at 7:00. New Holland Brewery should be a good place. As we get closer, I’ll ask for some commitments so I can get us a table all together. I can’t wait to see you there.

The Joy of Running

I’m doing the Rural Rush for a Cure tonight. It’s a 5k run in the small hamlet of Hamilton. I’m more excited to see my little boy run in the kids’ race, though. He’ll be doing a mile, and there’s a rumor that the high school football team joins the kids.

When I asked him if he wanted to do the race, he asked how long it was. I said, “It’s almost as long as that race you ran last year before Daddy’s half marathon. Do you remember the race you ran with your cousin?”

He said, “Is that the race I couldn’t catch any of the other runners? The one when I was scared of the cars (the police cars at the back of the pack) behind us on the road?”

He’s almost four, but he remembered the race from eight months ago. It made me kind of sad that he remembered that he was at the back of the pack. I wanted to explain to him that he started at the back because the kids were organized according to their last names instead of their ages, so he had to start at the back even though he was only three.

I don’t care how fast he is. I just want him to have fun running and competing. He really enjoys the races he’s done so far, and he’s asked to do more races than we’ve been able to fit into our schedule. I hope to continue fostering the playful and fun side of races.

More runners should focus on the fun aspect of races.

This last statement is a tough one sometimes. I love to compete, and races are usually fun for me. However, sometimes I focus so much on the clock that it becomes stressful. Many runners put a lot of pressure on themselves. This can be exacerbated by the fact that most races post the times and places for all the world to see. Sometimes it feels like the faster I run, the less fun I have.

Don’t get me wrong. I love to run and to race. It is a lot of fun to run fast and to set PRs, too. Not every race is a goal race, though. Not every race needs to be a PR. Some races should be enjoyed for the atmosphere and community.

My goal is to have fun tonight. If you look up my time in the 5k, know that the joy can’t be measured in seconds.

Which way is your arrow pointed?

“When you’re a competitive runner in training you are constantly in a process of ascending” (Parker 198).

Read Once a Runner and Again to Carthge, then go for a run.

This quote is from John L. Parker’s Again to Carthage. Quentin Cassidy says it as he’s looking over his old training logs. He’s ruminating on the rarity of this state.

There aren’t very many parts of my life where I’m constantly ascending. Sure. I try to be a good guy. A good dad. A good teacher. I have my good days when I’m getting better and better, but you can bet that I also have my days where I’m failing.

A marathon training cycle is one of the few places where my arrow is pretty consistently pointing up. This hit me this week when I was running a track interval workout. I ran 3200 meters at 6:35/mile, 2000 meters at 6:15/mile, 1600 meters at 6:00/mile, and 1000 meters at 5:44/mile. Each of these had a mere 2:30 recovery.

I say this not to brag (well, maybe I’m bragging a little bit) but to point out that a month ago I would have puked way before I finished that workout.

This is one of the reasons I love the marathon and the training that goes into it. I’m still pushing the boundaries of what I can do. I can see improvement throughout the course of the training cycle. It’s an area where I can always be chasing excellence.

It gives me hope that I can try to swing my arrow upward in a few more areas of my life. Isn’t that a great thing about athletics? It allows us to find bravery and hope within.

Prepare

So, some of you may remember that I also teach English to sometimes motivated teenagers. Last week was exam week. I remember that as being quasi-stressful. I wanted to demonstrate mastery. I wanted to perform to the greatest of my ability. One thing that teachers often forget is that many of them became teachers because they are good at “doing school.” Even factoring that in, I feel like most of my peers at least recognized that final exams were kind a big deal. That doesn’t mean that all of them studied or did well, but most of them realized that exams were important. Today, I don’t see many kids stressing out about exams. There are a few kids who really get wound up, but to watch most students, you’d never realize that it was exam week.

Since I relate almost every experience to the marathon, it got me thinking. Do I feel the same way about unprepared/uninterested races as I do about under-studious/under-motivated students? I think I do. When I read about people doing marathons without training for them or not valueing the race experience, I fluctuate between frustrated and annoyed.

If you’re going to do a marathon (or take an exam), please don’t treat it like it’s no big deal. It should be a big deal. I know, some people do ultras, so a marathon could be nothing more than a training run. Still, it’s a big deal to most people there. This is a lesson I’ve needed to learn, too. Looking back, I’ll admit that I sometimes diminished others at a 5k race by incorporating it into my twenty-miler. I’m sorry about that. It’s not that every race a person runs is the most important race in the world to them, but it may be the most important race to someone there. Give them the respect of taking the race seriously. Unless you’re running the race dressed as a giant hot dog, then feel free to clown it up as long as you start at the very back.

Part of taking it seriously means preparing for it. Students who refuse to study for an exam are so frustrating. Preparing for a marathon means months of training. Sure, you can miss a workout here and there. If you miss more days than you hit, you probably should re-evaluate your race. I’m pretty frugal (cheap), so I know it would hurt to skip a race that I’d already paid for, but the race is diminished if you’re not really committed to it. If you’re injured, racing is probably unwise. If you’re unmotivated, then find some training partners who will hold you accountable. Whatever. Just do everything in your power to arrive at that starting line as prepared as possible.

So, with that, I’ll end my English teacher rant. Hopefully, I’ve encouraged you to race and train purposefully. If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy this video and forgive me.

Running and Reading

Which running books inspire you? Which ones have you loved?

I’m currently building a running library. Whenever I find a new book about running, I read it. If it’s good (or cheap), I will buy it and add it to my collection. I’ve filled two shelves with running literature ranging from Dr. George Sheehan’s and Jim Fixx’s writings from original running boom to cutting edge training concepts like Brain Training for Runners that I reviewed last month. I don’t discriminate. I also make room for running fiction like the iconic Once a Runner and Higdon’s lesser Marathon novel. Here are some of my favorites.

Once a Runner and Again to Carthage: Due to its scarcity, the original book once marked you as a dedicated follower of the running cult. Since the re-print, it now may also indicate that you follow all the Runners’ World hype. Whatever the case may be, I find Once a Runner to be magical. Parker manages to paint my passion for running through the story even though I’ll never be near a four-minute mile. I love this book. I’ve heard a few less obsessive runners admit that they don’t see the appeal. It may be more meaningful to runners who constantly seek ways to run faster and farther. If nothing else, it provides a dynamic insight into those distant specks at the front of the pack and why they do what they do.

Running with the Buffaloes and An Honorable Run are two non-fiction books that chronicle Mark Whetmore and the runners at Colorado University,one of the more storied cross country programs in the United States. These book may also appeal to more competitive runners, but I found them completely absorbing. I’m not sure I would want Whetmore to coach my sons, but I would love to have him as a running partner. His obsession with running and training are fascinating.

Advanced Marathoning and Daniels’ Running Formula are focused mainly on training and training plans. Reading these books has done more for my training and racing than anything else (other than Miles of Trials, Trials of Miles). They really give an insight into why I do different workouts. Through this understanding, I am able to get more out of my workouts. If you are looking to improve, these two books are must reads.

Life at These Speeds is a novel about a fictional half miler. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else discuss this book, but I thought it was exceptional. The author, Jeremy Jackson, does a masterful job of crafting the narrative to feel like an 800-meter race. The main character, perhaps a younger version of Quentin Cassidy, is deep and complex. I can’t recommend this book enough.

Personal Record by Rachel Toor is a memoir that seemed to capture the essence of running. I’m drawn to writers who express feelings about running that mesh with mine. For example, I doubt I would read a book by Ed Whitlock because I once read an interview in which he stated that he probably wouldn’t run if he stopped winning his age group and setting records. Even though I am competitive, I don’t run against others as much as I seek to challenge myself. I wouldn’t really relate to Whitlock’s point of view. As I read Toor’s book, I found myself nodding and agreeing even if I didn’t always agree with her per se.

These are my top eight running books right now. I’m sure I’ve forgotten some of my favorites, but I believe your life would be enriched if you made time to read these. This time of year is great for resting and rejuvenating, so why not inspire your training this spring by reading some great literature right now. Also, I’d love to hear which running books inspire you.