What it means to really LOVE our running and riding

Starting lineMore than one person I know has made this similar observation about their love of running or cycling. “I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

Of course (and unfortunately) we all typically do get to experience life without our favorite activities. Injury can stop you cold. So can circumstances such as work changes or family needs. Then we muddle through life without running and riding.

In those periods it feels like a dark cloak is covering our energies. In some ways it also acts like an invisibility cloak. We tend to pull back from our social connections such as run clubs and group rides whenever injury, illness or circumstance stops us from running and riding. We long to recover our full selves.

SkiesThat’s because running and riding are very much mental as well as physical activities. They form our personalities and our character as surely as our other avocations do.

Those of us that have been at this running and riding thing a long time go through phases in our running and riding careers.

There’s the DISCOVERY phase when everything is new and difficult and exciting.

Next comes the DEVELOPMENT stage when the miles add up to better proficiency as a running or cyclist.

With those two growth patterns under our belts, we engage in the PERFORMANCE mode of the running and cycling worlds. Some of us race or do challenging events to celebrate our involvement in the sport.

IMG_1165Then along comes the MATURITY stage where you weigh your values and your goals. You begin to answer questions about what it really means to do these sports. This phase can last a long time and still incorporates elements of development and performance.

Maturity blends into ACTUALIZATION in which your running and riding are truly woven into your being. You process life through the lens of effort and training and discipline. The things you learn about your self are well-applied to other pursuits. Sometimes you pick up a third sport like swimming or weightlifting along the way. The transfer of experience and discipline to these other events is part of the actualization process.

When you’re fully into this game you reach the GRATITUDE zone. That’s where you truly pick up on the pleasures and challenges that make running and riding special. Being grateful for the ability to enjoy your favorite sports is a glorious journey. It wakens your senses to both thrills and absorption of the moment.

TrackIf you are so lucky and skilled to move through each of these stages early in your running and riding career, the entire arc of your active life can be truly blessed. That’s when you can turn to your friends and even your rivals to proclaim, “I really LOVE this!”

And that is how you enter the world of ENLIGHTENMENT in your running and riding. That’s when you know how to work with fatigue and pain and movement and motivation all at once. It may be no easier to stick to the wheel of the rider ahead of you, or to hold on through the middle miles of a marathon. But in your enlightened state you know how to draw on every muscle and every reserve.

When you’ve done your best in the enlightened state, you really know for sure. Of course some people move into a world where they know every movement and moment is their absolute best. If you know one of those people, do not envy their state of mind. Emulate it. Learn from it. Grow and go through all the phases if necessary to get where yo want to be.

And then love it. Because that’s what it’s all about. Loving it.

Follow this blog and please share to your social media connections. Your readership is most appreciated.

Follow this blog and please share to your social media connections. Your readership is most appreciated.

Posted in Christopher Cudworth, cycling, duathlon, half marathon, marathon, running, triathlon, We Run and Ride Every Day | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

YOU’VE AGED. NO KIDDING.

IMG_3668This past weekend was hectic. Saturday morning saw an hour run on the river trail in Naperville. Thanks to all the weight work the last two weeks the left knee injury I sustained by hurdling an orange cone during a race on a snow-covered road has finally begun to heal.

One of the odd byproducts of injuries is that the rest of your system has to work extra hard to bear the brunt of the interior trauma. Getting rid of swelling in your body makes your body work overtime. Healing takes extra blood flow. That leave you achey. Every run feels like you’re 80 years old, stiff and sore.

So by Sunday morning my legs were a little stiff from the previous day’s run. But I got up and met my longtime friend and former track / cross country / baseball coach Trent Richards to do an interview about him and his protege Ruthie Rosencranz.

“What’s the workout?” I asked. “We’re doing four 800s,” he told me. “You can run with her if you like. She’s doing 6:00 pace. So 3:00 for the half.”

Squaring up

IMG_8590Looking at the track at the Falcon Park Recreation Center in Palatine, I got that old familiar twinge of doubt. It was square, for starters. There were joggers and people going all sorts of paces on the track. And I had forgotten about running with Ruthie and downed a bowl of granola with milk at 7:15. It was now 8:30 a.m. Not enough time to digest.

So I warmed up and watched Ruthie do her first 800 in 3:00 flat. It didn’t look too fast. But we all know that when it comes to running, looks can be deceiving. Standing on the side of the track watching someone else run is much easier than actually doing it yourself.

After watching me warm up, Coach Trent had an observation about my running form. “You’ve aged,” he said in his inimitable style. He’s never been one to couch honesty in sugar. “You think?” I laughed. “You’ve only known me 40+ years.”

He first coached me in baseball when I was 13 years old. We shared many an intense moment in that sport. At one point during selection for the regional All Star team I overhead Trent sticking up for me with the band of coaches doing the choosing. “That’s Cudworth,” he pointed to me. “He’s skinny but he can throw hard and he’s a competitor.”

I wound up coming into the All Star game when the big lefty they started got knocked all shelled in the first inning. I finished the game, losing only 4-3 on a passed ball pitch in the final inning.

Seeing potential

Trent saw the potential in many people over the years. But he also recognized the limitations, and wasn’t afraid to share the truth. When some newspaper labelled me a “junior sensation” for having won a few early season races, Trent corrected him. “Cudworth’s a good runner, but not a sensational one,” the newspaper quoted him.

He was absolutely right about that. Because just down the road from where I lived there was a sensational runner named Tom Burridge who ran for Batavia High School. Burridge ran to an All State finish and later competed for the University of Kentucky where he ran 13:45 for 5000 meters. Knowing Tom as I do, perhaps even he would not call himself a sensational runner. But he was damn good. I was merely good enough to lead our team.

All in context

Not that any of that was a shame. These things I share for context. Because Richards is right when he says I’ve aged. My stride was long and fluid then. It’s much shorter and perhaps more efficient now. “You still carry your arms too wide,” he observed. Always have. Probably always will. Better than some. Worse than others. We all fit in the spectrum somewhere.

That’s true about age as well. Whether we like it or not, time is a sliding scale in our lives. We start at one end and move to the other. At a certain point it is no longer physically possible to perform at the levels we did from the ages of 16-28, our peak physical years. But if you can still run nearly as fast at 55 as you could at 40 years old, you’re doing okay.

No kidding. 50 really is the new 40 thanks to this fitness boom that has changed the way many Americans approach aging. We keep sliding back the scale as much as we can.

And by the way. I did run that half in 3:00 flat.  Followed in Ruthie’s steps the whole way. After three laps it started to hurt. But with all those years of experience and reserve, I almost know how to step outside my body to finish a run. Even with a bowl of cereal threatening to come back up.

Run for the ages

Still have a 6:00 mile in my legs. Not bad for a guy my age. Stringing six of them together might be tough. But it’s worth trying if for no other reason than to make your former coach smile, laugh and admit, “You’ve still got it.” Or something like that. No kidding.

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Trent Richards is a coach for life

Trent Richards, Ruthie and Karen Rosenkranz

Trent Richards, Ruthie and Karen Rosenkranz

At Kaneland High School in Maple Park, Il., and as a track standout at Illinois State University, Trent Richards was known for exceeding the apparent limits of his stature. At only 5’7″ he jumped 6’7″ in college high jump, twelve full inches over his own head.

That’s motivation in a nutshell. Richards went on to coach the sports of baseball, track and cross country in the region around St. Charles, Illinois. In the early 1970s he helped create the St. Charles Track Club. The summer program attracted the region’s top athletes in both boys and girls track. Many won state and a few even went on to win national AAU championships.

Running maven

Richards was ahead of his time in development of progressive coaching techniques. He earned his Master’s Degree in Physical Educatiobn and Sports Medicine from Illinois State. And long before it has became popularized by physical therapy and sports training experts, many of his athletes trained using plyometrics for base strength and injury prevention. His coaching days in St. Charles produced numerous All State athletes in cross country and track.

In the early 1980s Richards was at the forefront of another movement sweeping the health care field. He formed a company called One On One Fitness to coach and counsel employees, corporate executives and athletes. These included CEOs of Fortune 500 companies and advertising agencies in Chicago. His collaboration with a leading sports podiatrist led to the growing field injury diagnosis through bio-mechanical analysis.

Branching out

With an active mind and entrepreneurial spirit, Richards expanded his interests into the fields of marketing where he provided innovative counsel to golf courses and other companies in the Chicago market. His contributions to the FunBrain website helped grow and define the online market for interactive education.

In the last few years, the Roselle, IL.  resident has become certified in coaching energy modalities.  These include Cranial Sacral Therapy and Watsu (warm water therapy) as alternative health strategies for adults to reduce stress and pain. That insight is helping Richards in his own life as well, having learned this year that he has a form of cancer that requires chemotherapy. He is meeting the challenge in his typically concentrated way, working through the exhaustion after chemo to get back to the things he loves. Many of his former athletes have joined an informal support group to meet up with Richards and encourage him in his cancer journey. It’s rather like the support he’s given out all those years is coming back in his time of need.

Always coaching

Yet it’s also true that Richards continues coaching prep athletes. One of these is a distance running prospect named Ruthie Rosenkranz from Lake Zurich (IL) high school. On weekends they meet at an indoor track in Palatine. Richards prescribes workouts and guides her through a year-round program designed to build strength and speed.

The day’s workout is mapped for four 800 meter repeats at 6:00 mile pace. Ruthie nails the splits on every lap within a second or two. Her stride is smart and efficient. Richards gets her to pump her arms more in the final laps and to keep them in line during the earlier pace work.

Making plans

When the workout is through and Ruthie is cooling down, her mother observes that her daughter has a work ethic that she applies to everything she undertakes. “She’s studying to become a nurse,” Karen Rosenkranz notes. “She’s looking at Illinois State University because they have a really great program there.”

Of course ISU happens to be the alma mater of her coach Trent Richards. Their meeting happened by chance last year and it has worked out well for Ruthie to have such solid guidance going into her senior year in track. “Lake Zurich has a lot of girls out for track,” she enthuses. “So it helps to train to compete for spots on the team.”

Her mother loves the commitment shown by her daughter. But it’s really not about pressure in athletics so much as preparation for life. “She works really hard on her studies at night, during the week.”

With track starting just a few days after the January workout, Ruthie feels confident of a good start to the season. But first, there’s one more thing she wants to do. “Coach, can I do another half? I want to learn to run when I’m tired.”

And off she goes, hitting the splits yet again. Finally in the last lap the fatigue starts to show a little. Her knees drop a touch. Yet she’s picked up the pace.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” enthuses her coach. It’s always been his pleasure to help athletes improve. Through all the changes and challenges faced in his life, that’s the constant that Trent Richards values most. Seeing kids improve.

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50 Shades of Grey in Cycling

50 Shades of Grey in Cycling

There’s a lot going on in cycling. But it’s not all black and white.

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Never too early. Never too late. To get fit or race.

CCIWThe North Central College All-Comers meets are an annual tradition in May. The meets offer an opportunity for many runners to get in one more race using their hard-won fitness before summer rolls around. The meets are also important opportunities for runners that have qualified for national meets but have not yet met the time standard to compete.

That means there are quite a few fit and speedy competitors who show up each spring to race in the netherworld between track season and nationals. There are no rules except that you have to sign up. There are no divisions. No conferences. Not even any teams to consider really. It’s just show up and run your best.

Long nights

Sometimes (actually quite often) the All Comers meet stretches long into the night. That is how I wound up standing on the line at midnight with about 25 other 5000 meter runners. We’d waited since 5:00 in the afternoon for the chance to run. With so many athletes turning out for the meet some events took an hour or more to complete. There were flights of sprinters and hurdlers and 1500 meter runners to complete.

So we sat. And we waited. It was hard to know whether to take the chance of getting something to eat or not. If you did choose to eat and the race happened an hour later, all that food in your gut could waste you but good.

2005 New Balance Collegiate InvitationalThat meant most of us were lean and somewhat hungry by midnight. Otherwise conditions were perfect. 62 degrees and no wind. Just a calm and patient moon floating above the stadium light. Then the gun went off and it felt like flying. Everyone competed hard but everyone also worked together. Olympian Jim Spivey was there along with a host of other speedy runners ranging from D3 to D1. We all had our goals.

Mine was simple: Run the fastest 5000 I’d ever run. And it happened. My Nike Zoom spikes carried me to a 14:47. Not world class. But I was pleased.

Driving home at 1:00 in the morning after the cooldown felt weird. I was ready to go out and get a beer or something to celebrate. Yet I knew all my friends would be long asleep.

To her credit a work friend stayed that whole evening to watch me race. She’d gone out for dinner and come back. A stalwart buddy, she. Before heading home she gave me a warm embrace. I hugged her back noticing the whiff of sweat coming from my armpits. “Nice running,” she told me, eyes gleaming in the night.

Who would think you could run your personal best on a midnight evening in May? But it’s never to late to try. And so many runners did.

There have been many other strange efforts at strange times over the years. The Midnight Madness 15-Mile Race in Ames, Iowa was one such run. It started at 9:00 p.m. and consisted of five laps around a three-mile loop. It was fun, and crazy. We all stood around in hoses at the finish. Soaked and happy and summery feeling.

Just as strange are the early morning starts of triathlons. People emerge from shadows in wetsuits, trodding lightly on swept streets and grassy walkways in bare feet. Some start just after dawn. The surface breaks with their swim strokes. It’s never too early to push yourself either.

indoor soccerI recall one night however playing indoor soccer. The game did not start until 11:00 p.m. Our side had just six players. No subs. Just before halftime I was more tired than I had ever been in any other endeavor. Not even the 30 mile runs I’d done in training made me that tired. Nor the all-out steeplechases over 35 barriers and 7 water jumps. Not six hours of midnight basketball in a rural barn.

Yes, I was tired out all those times. But not like that night in soccer. When the ball rolled right past my feet outside the goal box with thirty seconds to play in the half, it was a good chance to strike it for a score. I was too tired. Literally I had no energy to move from the spot where I was standing. A teammate screamed at me to kick the ball. I just looked at the rolling sphere as it went past. Too tired. Don’t care. Blow the whistle.

Yet the second half went better. We even almost won the game. But at midnight when the match was complete it was indeed time to go home. I swore I’d never start a soccer match that late. Ever again.

Yet four weeks later I’d forgotten that fatigue and the late hour and the inability to take one step to kick a ball. We were back out there with eight guys this time. “It won’t be so bad with a couple subs,” we told ourselves.

It’s never too early. Never too late. To get fit or race. And compete to win.

Even if you can’t move your feet.

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No time left for you

Back in 7th grade my best friend and I were deep in the business of discovering girls. We dove into the social maelstrom that was the late 1960s lovefest with our eyes on being liked and liking back.

Part of our allure, in our eyes at least, was how good we could be in sports. Fortunately I was very good at sports. But somehow that connection did not always fulfill the promise of female adoration as I might have liked. You also had to know how to talk to girls. That was a skill to be learned as well.

Warming up for the 7th Grade basketball championship.

Warming up for the 7th Grade basketball championship.That’s me with the arm flying back after taking a shot.

Time out of mind

Of course there were moments when actions spoke louder than words. Like the time I sank a last second shot in the 7th grade basketball championship to win the game. That got me lots of girl attention. There is a Polaroid from that day, a washed out picture of me warming up for that game that my father took. The picture is so washed out there is no one on earth that would recognize me in that photo but me. Why do we keep such things?

Time matters

Because they are strange little records of our existence. Not long after that photo was taken my father announced to our family that we would be moving to Illinois. My best friend and I were devastated. He’d previously moved way for a year or so during his family’s difficult passage through divorce. He went to live with his father in Florida and that changed my friend in ways I could not have anticipated. He came back with a cynical side that I had not known before. He used it to protect himself socially. It also changed our friendship from open and innocent to something more calculated and cautious.

I had the coolest friend ever growing up.

I had the coolest friend ever growing up.

Yet we continued sharing our deepest secrets on many fronts. That included talking about the girls we were dating. He was one of the most popular and good-looking kids in class. I was also popular. Perhaps not as good looking.

But he had three sisters. That helped him understand that girls were real human beings. To me they were beautiful Martians. I struggled to understand them.

Time to compete

My friend’s relationship patterns were intense as a result of his knowledge of women. He knew they could be manipulative as well as sweet. One of his 7th grade girlfriends was playing him against another competing for her attention and this drove my friend insane. He took to a Guess Who song as a salve for his damaged ego…

No time for a summer friend
No time for the love you send
Seasons change and so did I

You need not wonder why
You need not wonder why
There’s no time left for you
No time left for you

And then I told him I would be moving away. We sat together on the elevated tee on the 13th hole of the golf course where we lived and cried together. He turned to me and said, “Why does everything I love have to leave me?”

CLC 1969

Lisa was my first real girlfriend. Cuddles was her nickname for me.

That hurt to hear. I was hurting myself and it hurt me to think I was hurting him by leaving. We’d grown up from the age of 5 to the age of 12 together. Those are intense years. The years upon which a lifetime of memories are built. Adolescence too. Time is the measure of our pain in this world, or else pain is the measure of our time.

Time to go away

When our family moved away from town, the kids in our 7th grade gathered some money to buy me gifts. There were two albums, Abbey Road and Let It Be from the Beatles. And there was a watch.

Sure, I’d borrowed my father’s watch to time myself running as a little kid. Yet I had never owned my own watch before. Suddenly time had very real significance. Having a watch on my wrist was like touching time, and it hurt somehow.

Branding time

Since then there have been watches of many brands and kinds. Late in my teens I started purchasing digital watches for use in running. There were Casios and all those off-brand watches that looked like time contraptions.

And then I got my first Timex. I’ve owned many since. They run without question for years usually. Then they either get so beat up they’re an embarrassment to wear or one of the critical buttons eventually wears out. Those get thrown in a drawer where they beep away for years like a pitiful voice from the Land of Long Lost Toys. I know. Sad, isn’t it?

Timex Reverse

Time to fix

But just try to replace a battery in a Timex watch sometime. As they’ve evolved in their waterproofing technology the ability to flip the back off a Timex and replace the battery yourself has disappeared. There are these tiny screws that require a jeweler’s touch to remove.

I’ve tried doing that myself and by the time I get the back off I’ve accidentally dinged one of the parts and the whole watch is doomed at that point. That’s why I have a small collection of useless Timex watches in my bedroom drawer. Some are still talking to me. They go off at 5:40 or whatever time I long ago set to wake me up for workouts or work.

Ironman Timex

My girlfriend has an Ironman Timex watch she uses for training. (So do I. She bought it for me two Christmases ago.) She also has a discarded Timex that still beeps at 5:35. Then my watch goes off at 5:45. Then her actual watch goes off sometime later. Then her alarm rings as well. It’s like a chorus of Timex and time awakenings. A battle-fatigued soldier could not sleep through all of that beeping, ringing and noise.

Did I not mention that we also have iPhones? These also have alarms. That means it’s like running the time gauntlet every time we cash out from training and wake up to swim, run or ride. In the morning it’s like a flock of addle-headed birds going off.

Does anybody really know what time it is?

With so much dinging and tweeting and beeping there’s almost no time to consider what time it really is. Or what time really means.

All those years of wearing Timex watches on my wrist has taught me a few things about the significance of time. How you remember some moments more than others. Why other moments drift away. All of time is lost to the past unless this happens, this recollection. Our personal histories, and history that seems to matter to all humankind. Time.

Best and worst

Those watches have seen me at my best and worst. They have thrilled me when the splits in an interval or a race match up to expectations. They have tortured me when the day or event is not going so well.

Timex Out of TimeSo it’s an odd thing when the screen goes blank on a treasured Timex. It’s almost like a statement about mortality. No time left for you.

That’s why I called Fox Jewelers in Geneva. They’re a locally owned shop that has solved all kinds of jewelry problems over the years. “Can you replace the battery on a Timex Ironman watch?” I asked.

“Sure,” he told me. “We do that all the time.”

What a perfect answer. We do that all the time. 

We do that all the time.

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Beware the opposite of insanity. It can kill you.

Over the River...

Last spring and summer was a weird training period. Every time I ramped up something stupid would happen to provide a setback. Of course the worst of the lot was crashing face first into a tree. That was kind of insane of me to do. And stupid. Not paying attention is a bad strategy on the bike. Especially at 20 mph.

Which meant that the base foundation of my training on the bike was not would it should be all summer. As a result, when it came to relatively long rides such as the 70 miles we did on the Ironman Wisconsin triathlon course, there was suffering.

No faking it

Here’s the truth: Without a base you can fake it for a while. Then comes some long stretch of hill where it doesn’t matter what cadence you ride or what pace you’re riding, it just hurts. And you slow. People pass you by without a word because they can see what state you’re in. You would rather not talk at that particular point in time. Just pedal.

Some of this suffering, I have come to realize, is poor fuel strategy.  A nibble on a Clif bar does not a good 70-miler make. There are nutritional needs to be taken seriously. Otherwise you can get insanely low on the things you need to pedal on. You bonk.

These things happen eventually to everyone in cycling. We simply cover so many miles the odds are against you unless you take your insanity seriously. Have a plan to eat. Do those base miles at a sane pace to start, but lots of them too. Keep it in the small ring for a few hundred miles at least. Build up those little muscle fibers that do all the real work. Climb and ride into the wind. Stop worrying about the cyclometer or the Strava or the heart rate monitor. Ride until you’re tired and insanely long at times. Just ride.

For me, that means starting with 30-milers in the winter months of January and February. Steady with lots of hills.

Then comes March and ramping up to 50-60 milers. All still steady state with some increases in group rides.

In April and May the harder paced riding starts and by June and July this year it will be 80-100 milers on weekends.

Really fit

The last time I trained insane was about 6 years ago. My weight dropped from 178 to 163. Up the hills I went with far less of a problem. My group noticed this fitness, which meant longer pulls on the front were mine to offer. That’s how it is with the fit guy or gal in any group. You’ve earned it, but it’s your job to give it back. The Great Equilibrium of cycling is that it never gets easier. That’s insane, but that’s how it works.

So we acknowledge this thing we do is insane. These miles. These Shut Up Thighs miles. But if you don’t do them, the opposite of insanity can kill you. We’ve all been there. Being fit is a lot better than being rested. Rest runs out eventually.

Tarsnakes rule

It’s one of the tarsnakes of cycling that we are constantly being pulled or pushed to our limits. Sometimes we all wonder if it’s worth it. But those questions are best left for the base-building phase. Because by the time you enter the world of real riding, it’s always too late to ponder the insanity of why you did not put in real miles to begin with.

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Greetings from Angola, where all my newest readers apparently live

Yes today marked a big new milestone in the annals of We Run and Ride. We just topped 5000 views in a single day. According to the stats on WordPress, those views came from the nearby country of Angola. Here’s a map of where Angola sits in Africa.

Angola Reads WRAR I don’t know much about the country of Angola, but something tells me their citizens are not all that interested in my blog featuring original thoughts about running and riding.

Angola FlagBesides, their flag is really scary. Not sure what that imagery means, because it appears to be a machete hacking apart a sprocket of some sort. Perhaps they’ll cut your bike in half if you try to ride through the country.

Those of you brave enough to try might want to know that Angola is situated in the lower southwest section of the continent of Africa that if it were still connected to the continent of South America as it was back in the days of early continental tectonics would connect with the southeastern ass-end of Brazil.

Brazilian-bikini-girl-89Of course we know there are a lot of asses to be seen in Brazil as a rule. The nation appears to have some sort of law that says women who live in that country must have their asses on display at all times.

Wonders of the world

It all leaves me wondering why someone in Angola cares about my little blog here in the United States. Yes, We Run and Ride has readers all over the world. I get comments from Australia and India and Africa too. But 5000 in Angola alone?

Out of site

Of course this spike in readers from Angola is all some sort of deception. They’ve somehow piled those statistics up to get me to visit their website and use the Share links they want me to use on my site. And of course that probably downloads the corresponding information of visitors direct from my site to their database. Then they ship out junk to all those people. Or something like that.

Disconnected from reality?

The Internet is a really weird place that way. We’re all connected and yet disconnected from reality. For a long time my blog said that I had nearly 1000 followers. Then I changed themes and suddenly the numbers dropped. What the hell is going on out there?

I just write because I enjoy writing about running or riding. Honestly the top number of legitimate views I’ve gotten on this blog is 2500 in a single day. I wish it was ten times that number but it hasn’t happened. So I got a little excited when I saw the spike in today’s number. I thought my recent spike in Twitter followers had connected with some sort of Twitter maven who drove traffic to my amazing blog. No such luck. Instead it was some sort of Follower Spam Scheme from some nutwads based in Angola. Have at it fellers.

Genuine efforts

The one place where my writing took off was on RedRoom.com. That site is now defunct, sold off by the owners in a fit of concession to Wattpad.com, who bought the domain and then shut it down. One of my posts there got 25,000 views in one day. It was an excerpt that wound up in my book The Right Kind of Pride.  The success of that blog entry encouraged me to publish the book.

angolax-16-9

Some Angolan Olympians let people know their country of origin.

I guess I should not be ashamed. Nearly 200,000 people all over the world have visited We Run and Ride since I started writing it a couple years ago. And I’m sure there are all kinds of nice people in Angola. I’d actually like to go there someday. So if some of you over there actually are reading this blog and want to invite me to stay with you for a week or a month, I’d love to visit. We can run and ride together, and I can add dozens of species to my birding life list.

It’s happened before. One of my articles in Runner’s World lined up a gig as the official artist of the Brazosport Run for the Arts. I made all kinds of new friends and won a national award from Runner’s World for the best running art poster.

So strange things can happen. But I’m not holding my breath on this one.

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The important difference between “get through it” and “let’s do it”

IMG_8591So this morning at the indoor track my gal Sue was doing a tough interval workout. It was a ladder up from 200 meters to a mile and back down again. Ultimately the fatigue sets in with such workouts. We’ve all been there.

This past month she’s been considering her running form as part of preparation for the Ironman she’s shooting to do in September. There’s a running form coach working with a group of athletes at the indoor track and it’s been interesting to be around them while they practice their form with drills and tempo training.

Whoops Factor

I’ve been running workouts with Sue but did a stupid thing this past weekend and sprained my knee hurdling an orange cone during a snowy race. So I’m hobbled for a week or so, confined to slower running until my knee strengthens up. I lost focus during that run and got a bit out of my head in having fun. It will cost me a couple weeks of good training.

But I still went to the track for a 15-20 slow run. It’s important to keep up your workout schedule even if it’s reduced. It keeps your mental frame of mind in a positive place and intact.

In the flow

IMG_8607It’s all part of being in the flow. That brings me to the subject of the difference between “get through it” and “let’s do it.” Because when Sue and I have run together I’ve noticed an incredible thing about her running form. She really smooths out at a faster pace. She also rides much better at a quicker tempo than when we’re pedaling along at 15-18 mph.

This phenomenon is common for many athletes. As I was trying to describe the difference to her this morning while showing her a video of her running form, I told her, “You have two modes of running. There’s the “get through it” mode which is sort of a survival stride… And then there’s the “let’s do it” mode… in which you smooth out and run faster. Ideally you want to spend more time in the “let’s do it” than the “get through it” phase.”

Qualifiers

Well, that’s partially true for her. In an Ironman most competitors definitely depend on the “get through it” mode during the marathon phase of the race. There simply aren’t many people who can hop off a bike after 112 miles of hard riding and jump right into their normal marathon pace. In fact no one can.

But to compete in regular races such as half marathons or even marathons without 112 miles of cycling holding you back, it is important to understand the difference between “get through it” and “let’s do it.” A lot of us preemptively fall into our “get through it” mode before we need to rely on it. We’re either afraid to run or ride faster for fear of bonking or we simply do it out of habit.

Indeed, it really is true in cycling as well. We fall into that zone where cadence slows. We slump on the seat and hang onto the handlebars as if we’re chained to a beast of burden rather than a carbon fiber bike. We hang on and hang on. Even if we’re riding alone, we hang on and hang on. We’re just trying to ‘get through it.’ Whatever “it” is…

THE MENTAL SIDE

IMG_8455There’s a degree of mental preparation that goes into all this. Getting your head ready for the workout or effort you’ve planned is crucial to quality running or riding. For starters, it helps to be organized in advance of the run or ride. That helps you clear your mind of cluttered thoughts and distractions. A preoccupied mind is one that cannot focus on the task at hand.

Distractions

If you’re prone to distraction by nature or wrestle with any form of emotional or analytical challenges such as anxiety, depression or ADD, it’s even more important to organize your thoughts. You simply must clear your head in advance of a workout. Outside stressors are a normal parr of everyone’s life, so don’t make any assumptions about your abilities. It pays to organize your world, and thus your thoughts. That way you give yourself the best odds of staying focused, engaged and energized during your workout or race.

Conflicts

Otherwise your mind stands in conflict with your body. We all experience it at times. Everyone who runs, rides and swims needs to learn to control or guide those important thought processes so that your brain doesn’t want to give up during a hard effort simply because it’s already worked too hard just to get you out there.

Go ahead. Run or ride through a puddle or two. Or three.

That’s when you fall into “get through it” mode. So do yourself a favor. Before your workout do a review of your daily status in terms of relationships, work obligations and creative endeavors. If you feel conflicted or over-obligated in any of these categories, you’re likely going to feel pulled apart and wind up just “getting through” your workout rather than being fully engaged. A good mental exercise is to literally write down the thoughts that dominate your mind on a piece of paper. Make a list. If there are any that absolutely must be solved before you work out, then do them. Now.

The rest can be fodder for problem solving during your workout. That’s when many of us resolve our issues. It’s not a conflict of interest or a distraction to think about other things while we train. But if those things are immediately pulling us in two directions because they are impacting us in some material or relational way, then there may at times be work to do before taking them on the road. Personally, I find a mix of both is true. Life is full of gray areas. Sometimes you have to learn to love the color gray and move on.

If you can…

Stress=hot mess

Some people seem to perform best when they’re under stress. They actually seem to thrive on the jive of tension and pressure. But when stress is cumulative and you arrive at a workout feeling like it is no fun and just another source of stress, it is hard to draw anything out of that situation but survival instincts. You’re likely to do just about anything to “get through it.” Congratulations, you’re now a hot mess due to stress.

IMG_8310At some point when you’re overstressed you become distracted. You may start to complain to yourself and others that you can’t handle it. That’s when runners or cyclists either drift to the back of the pack or start trying to control the effort by taking control off the front. Either of these approaches can seem like a “let’s do it” mode but in fact it is actually a “get through it” response to overall stress and mental attitude. That type of training is not really healthy for you or anyone else. Better to find a way to cool the attitude a bit and get back in control of your instincts.

THE LET’S DO IT DIFFERENCE

So how do you get into the type of “let’s do it” training that actually takes you where you want to go?

Focus

As noted, the difference begins with a focused attitude. It may not always be super positive. We all go through emotional ups and downs during training. A little temper can actually work wonders if you know how to focus it. Being pissed at the world has made many an athlete greater than they might have been otherwise.

FenceThe ultimate tools are still focus, which means attention. Then there’s attitude, which means approach. Notice that these to words both relate closely to the idea of “let’s do it.” Being prepared is the first priority. Being focused is the next priority. Having full attention and the right approach are the most important components of a “let’s do it” mode rather than a “get through it” response to training.

Motivation

“Let’s do it” is an expression of motivation. That’s the trick to a successful workout and racing. Funneling your focus, attention and approach through the refinery of motivation is what gives you that “let’s do it” positivity.

Motivation can come from strange places within us. It can of course be diluted and distracted by stress or other factors.

Tom and FredOnce during preparation for cross country nationals, our college coach overheard some of the team talking about “burnout” from the competitive season we’d been through thus far. The very notion of that idea sounded like poison to our coach. And he was right.

That night he prescribed a workout that was part mental and part physical. “Okay,” he told us in the team meeting. “We’ve done enough talking lately. It’s time to run. Tonight, no one talks during the workout. Not a word. We will cover six miles at 6:00 pace in an uptempo effort. No talking. See you back here in 40:00.”

And so we ran. The effect was magical. Nothing but the sound of breathing and footfalls. We were bonded in those moments in a new way. We arrived back at the fieldhouse with new attitudes. It felt good to run without the burden of distracting mental thoughts that come through conversation.

Our team that was fifth in NCAA regionals came through with a second place at the NCAA Division III national meet. To this day I credit that “silent” run for giving us the focus and the “let’s do it” attitude necessary to run our best.

Life lessons

The same concepts apply to many other forms of motivation in life. In business a “get through it” attitude reduces productivity. A “let’s do it” outlook is much more productive, engaging and motivating.

The same principles apply to relationships, parenting roles, education and avocations. The important difference between “get through it” and “let’s do it” is focus and attitude. Now let’s go do it. Right.

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The Run of His Life (A Short Story)

Pizza in OvenThere is an absence of mind that comes not just with age, but with obligation. That is, the things we do preoccupy us to the point of distraction. That results in consequences.

Such was the case with the pizza left out on the counter. There it passed from cool to warm. The regular procedure for pizzas, but not warm enough to cook. And then it went back in the fridge.

He was distracted by obligations. The act of putting that pizza back in the freezer was one of absolute dissociation. It had been cold outside. Colder than it had been in several years, for weeks on end. Even grocery shopping was painful. The in and out from the car. The wind-driven walk to the automatic doors. Back out with the groceries. Loading them in the back with the lift gate creating a vortex against the neck and head. It all took concentration to even care about going anywhere.

That’s how the pizza was forgotten long enough to be dangerous.

Pizza CutDays later he pulled the pizza from the freezer and placed in the oven. It did not occur to him that time out of the fridge could allow small organisms to grow and take hold within the ingredients.

Perhaps he should have known better. Much better. There was that incident back in college when he competed at the national meet and got so sick following his race that he threw up 27 times overnight. For years the narrative had been that heat stroke caused the illness. Then while reading a Harper’s Magazine article about the rash of food poisoning cases tried and failed against Pepsico, he realized the truth. The team had eaten at Pizza Hut the evening of his race. He’d gotten food poisoning. And almost died. 

In the interim there were many moments when he doubted the original prognosis that heat had caused him to get so ill. One summer road race was particularly hot, yet he’d stuck with the leaders and even kicked into the finish ahead of runners he had never beaten before. There were handshakes all around, and a kiss from his girlfriend, who seemed to glow in the thrill of his breakthrough. So the whole heat stroke argument had fallen away in his mind.

Yet we all seem to need to learn our lessons more than once. That spoiled frozen pizza went into the oven without a thought one evening. It tasted good going down. And then hours later, it threatened to come back up again.

Pizza WD-40At 10:17 p.m. he sat up in bed with that horrid feeling he was about to get sick. He got up and walked around the room. Things were spinning already. It was the same wicked sensation he recalled from that night of the Pizza Hut incident.

Only this time he was not going to give in.

The illness had sucked seven pounds out of him that long May night at Nationals. By morning he was dehydrated and shivering cold. That resulted in a trip to the hospital where they stuck an IV in his arm and forced him to drink a thick liquid tasting vaguely of orange but more like rancid sugar. There were bananas ingested too. All in an attempt to stabilize his electrolytes and everything else that keeps you alive.

That made him think about another incident with food poisoning. He recalled with sadness the death of a teammate that had not gone for treatment for a high fever brought on by cafeteria food brought back to the dorm room.  His teammate had died in his sleep. 

So the moment he got up to walk around his bedroom these were the memories confusing his already twirling consciousness. He was determined to beat this feeling on his own terms.

His reaction was swift then. He pulled out his running gear from the drawers and closet. He tossed on two pair of gloves and the balaclava used for really cold conditions. Laced up his shoes and lurched out the door into the cold night air. Perhaps he could run it off. 

Shadows from streetlights spewed in at least three directions every time he crossed under them. There was the main shadow from the overhead light. The secondary shadow from the light just passed and the new shadow emerging from the light ahead. He was moving through a reality defined by light in thirds. 

IMG_4930Between streetlamps there was the light of the moon. He looked up and saw the moon’s bright face with its wan patches. Oceans of dust. Then he began to retch.

Nothing came up at first. That sent him running. Something in his dazed state made him think that he could literally keep ahead of the nausea if he just got going fast enough.

His feet made crunching sounds in the snow. He glanced back to study his own footprints. This was something he always did. Out of habit. Form was important. Keeping the feet in alignment made sense. You got more out of every stride.

And so it went. The illness in his stomach sent crescendos of fear through his nervous system. Yet on he went. There would be no barfing if he could do anything about it.

For a mile he ran. Then another. By three miles his legs were warmed up and passing under the many streetlights became something of a flow. He was running on his mid foot now, the way he raced.

Waves of nausea kept coming, but it did not slow him down. He thought back to that image of the Olympic Trials marathoner that raced right through a total barf attack. Bob Kempainen was his name. That brave guy won the race despite projectile hurling somewhere during the marathon.

So there was inspiration in his madness to keep from throwing up. He glanced at his watch. Approaching four miles he was now running 6:00 pace. This was truly out of his head. At his age, he did not even race this fast.

IMG_5128The legs were starting to feel it now. Yet the bracing cold also kept him in a strange equilibrium between thrilling motion and exhaustion. Soon enough it became a struggle, then impossible to keep the pace. Yet on he ran. The next mile at 7:00 pace. Then 8:00. Still he ran into the night.

Circling back toward home the violent waves of nausea seemed to subside. He felt less dizzy. Now it was a question of finishing before freezing. He kept going as fast as possible, but fatigue had truly set in. A passing car honked angrily at him. His effort had taken him out into the driving lane. He did not care. This felt like life or death in his mind. But if death took him by surprise, so be it. At least he’d gone down fighting.

Two miles from home his pace was down to 9:00 per mile and there was still no stopping him. On he clawed. At some point he almost felt like reaching toward the ground with his hands like you would in a bad dream where something is chasing you and you can’t get away.

One mile to go. He wondered if the cure had truly taken place. There was no feeling of sickness up toward his throat like before. Not wet tongue or lips. Only a dry feeling where the cold air had parched his mouth. Still he kept running, gloves off now. The cold air felt good. He was sweaty and a chill reached him through his gear. On and on. This was running the way it should be. Exhaustion setting in. He would sleep well after a shower.

At home he made tracks in the yard trudging around in circles. Finally he stood up and stood still. His breath made clouds and his body made multiple shadows. He stood stock still and stared up at the cold moon. Years ago the heat had not killed him. Neither would the cold. It was the run of his life.

By Christopher Cudworth. Author of the book The Right Kind of Pride. The accompanying blog can be found online at Therightkindofpride.com

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