And Beyond

Listen up.

The mental aspect of running is tough. So much so that we sometimes don't give ourselves a fighting chance to do anything great.

In all honesty I think this should be the quote or theme of SCAC 2011/life:

"Beyond the very extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength never taxed at all because we never push through the obstruction" -William James

This sums up running for me. It sums up my goals, why I run, who I want it to help make me, and the reason I like to help other people get better at it. Notice the quote says nothing about winning. Nothing about glory. The quote is about an individual. Does it compare what two runners are doing? NOPE. Does it even sound that promising? NO, it sounds hard. Does it tell you how to qualify for the Olympics or win races? Hell no. It actually tells you to find your point of exhaustion. Wait, what?

Like I said, listen up-

There is a "beyond". Beyond the fatigue. Beyond the toughest work out you have under your belt. Beyond your worst day. Beyond your all-nighters. Beyond you hardest race. Beyond what you think will break you.

Beyond what does break you.

You want proof?

You are still standing. (Well sitting, but imagine with me here)

Actually, standing and reading.

That requires both physical effort and mental effort.

Running takes physical and mental effort.

So, in your past you have had what you thought was your toughest day. But, here you are. Standing, reading, and, hopefully, realizing that you will probably have a tougher day in your future.

Beyond.

Did you quit? Never run another step? No further work outs? Nope. You kept running.

That was physical. You fixed that all by yourself. But to get to the true beyond? I believe you need to fix the mental aspect too. And because some like structure, I thought I would try some steps to get you there:

1.) Sit your skinny runner butt down on a chair with your running shoes on your lap

2.) Put a mirror in front of you

3.) Stare yourself down for a minute- like an animal preparing for epic battle

4.) Open the line of communication- aka begin talking to yourself or visualization

5.) Follow some sort of conversation that convinces yourself to perform well even when you are tired, blown to shreds, cracked, sleep-deprived, under trained, over trained, heart broken, lost, stumbling, and crazy

6.) CONVINCE YOURSELF

7.) Convince your feet

8.) Convince your muscles

9.) Convince your shoes

10.) Convince your heart

Now, steps 1-3 really don't matter and steps 7-10 really follow your lead once you get to step 6. So really it is not that much to do.

I have SCAC fever and as SCAC T&F 2011 approaches I knew I wanted to remind people how to get through it. Most people do more than one event at conference. They deal with crazy conditions, tactical races, and pressure. So, my little SCAC athletes, please do not let the nerves and stress of the whole season tire you out before you even reach the line that day. You have one week to realize everything you have done in preparation for this meet.

You believe you should be tired after a hard work out. Tired after lots of weeks of racing. Exhausted with school. Stressed about life. Did your legs tell you all that? Did your muscles not do what you asked them to do? Or did you tell yourself you should feel tired. Should feel stressed.

All those things that the quote above doesn't mention? Well those happen when you break down barriers. The biggest barrier being your mental self and mental toughness. I don't care if you are a 12 year old kid who thinks he can win the Boston Marathon- with enough mental toughness you can get pretty darn close.* Those races I told my self that I was going to win, I usually ended up losing. The races where I ate my words, my miles, my workouts, my core, and my barriers were usually the ones I succeeded in.

*(I just watched a movie, Saint Ralph, about just that. Very weird but motivational movie if you have some down time as you are searching for "beyond")

Forget that you are telling yourself you are tired and watch what happens. By all means, take full care of yourself and make yourself comfortable.

But strap yourself in and drive towards that moment you know will be tough and experience beyond.

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See you on the oval.

O SCAC, My SCAC

O Conference, my Conference- our trip is nearly done!
These spikes have weather'd every track, the prize sought nearly won.
The line is near, the gun I hear, the people all cheering.
We all converge with jerseys worn, our stares bold and daring:
But O track! track! track!
O the moments in my head,
Where on the line my heart will lie,
My feet no longer tread.

O Conference, my Conference- rise up and bid farewell!
Rise up- for one team has nearly left- for a little we can dwell.
For your hist'ry and golden stripes- for you the line is calling.
For you they call, the gun will start, the final laps awaiting.
Here Conference, dear SCAC!
This team you pushed ahead;
It is some dream that on the track,
The names won't be read.

My Conference knows the answer, the chance happens once more.
The SCAC still has four tigers, and will until one final meet score.
Teams gather towards epic Memphis, a final showdown there.
From trip to track the feet will meet, winning by maybe a hair.
Shoot, O gun, and cheer, O teams!
Thus we hurdle the dead,
Again, fighting for the trophy;
Whose hunger will be fed?

In Defense of the Oval

I have been reading quite a few articles on a certain subject lately. Simply put, people are discussing the difficulty of training post-college. Where should and where can graduated athletes go to continue training? It has been a question that has been on my mind a lot. For a runner like me, with no flashy sponsors, no housing provided, and no top of the line facilities begging me to come train on them, where do I go?

Obviously, if I want to keep training, then I go where I can. I am lucky to have the Trinity Track to train on and a coach who will get up early with me. But, I pay a gym membership to lift. I don't have massage therapists on speed dial. I really miss my wonderful trails to I used to have. I even struggle to find a legitimate way to get in an ice bath, which used to be a core aspect of my training.

But if there is one thing I thought for sure was sacred, it was the track. My zone. The place where the distance is all there, just waiting to happen.

Everything was just right this morning, too. So little wind. And it had been a little while since a longer work out had happened. The horsepower was there.

I wish I could say the biggest power came from my legs, but there was this enormous mower that I had to fight for the track. I was in the middle of my first 2k and a few utility guys rolled up in their golf cart and started moving things off of the grass and into lane 1 and 2. Some steeple barriers, a bench or two, and some kind of fencing material. It was a runner's frogger nightmare. I kept waiting for the track to break in half and make me ford a stream to get to my next split. As I tried to keep my cool, the mower came in. Engines roaring and grass flying. That man was on a mission to make sure every blade of grass was the same length. He went back and forth but always seemed to end up on the same length of the backstretch when I came around. Each time he came to the end of the strip he was mowing he would go on to the track to turn around. I don't mind going into lane two, but this was ridiculous. The track is the one place that I have where I am not supposed to fight fuel powered machines. Yet, we battled.

Of course I finished the work out. Derick helped move things out of lane one. The mower never actually got that close and I probably fought my allergies harder than anything else this morning. But, despite the lack of drama, I still had this sense of violation when I left for my cool down. I know the groundsmen were trying to do the same thing I was by taking care of business early to escape the heat, but where was the respect for the track?

So, now I go on and fight for the oval. My work outs have taken on new meaning. No longer do I stride around the curves in order to get a simple work out in. I have become the protector of the mondo. While I probably wont chain myself to the starting line or try to sabotage the mower gears, I will carry with me the belief that the track deserves respect for everything it is. Those red lanes have let me keep training, in spite of all the things that go against my success. An open, lighted, well maintained track is available for my use. And anyone else who desires to find their own distance. People have started with less.

I have 8 lanes willing to show me the right direction and help my mind find its way through the tough parts. All other sports have it, the sacred spot. The one place where magic happens. Remember that the spring brings us the chance to show the magic of our sport.

Rise to the defense of the oval... 

Puddle Jumping

The air was humid. Like right before a rain in Arizona and during the first week back from summer in Indiana. But it was Texas. It was semi-early. And it wasn't raining, sadly.

I woke up and hoped my feet remembered what to do. Hoped my heart knew how to make my blood flow. Hoped my lungs knew how to catch my breath. And really hoped my muscles remembered how to work. I really hoped they remembered what to do. Because my fingers remembered how to lace my shoes and it felt like someone had teleported me to the starting line. And sometimes my head can get a bit fuzzy.

Who knew that coming back could be so nerve-wrecking?

I saw this kid, #304, sitting and tying his shoes by the line and I just knew he was going to make me feel old today. Work had talked me into doing the race anyway and I thought I could just treat it like my Saturday work out. But now my feet were getting that itch. Like they didn't care what the pace was as long as it was deserving of a pair of wings. My pre-race routine was calling my name.

Shake my arms. Stretch my hips. Swing my legs. Pit stop. Check my number. Loose my warm-ups. Attach my chip. Pit stop. Take my inhaler. Set my mind. Remember my strategy. Today the goal was negative splits. Or some sort of split. Any kind of split. While everything was coming back to me, I didn't really know if my legs would actually remember how to race.

The gun went off a few minutes late, but it didn't really matter. This wasn't nationals. But my legs were excited anyway. From the gun it was me and Mr. 304. A little man in green blew by us after the first 200m and I thought, "really?" this is supposed to be a fun day. So Mr. 304 and I took off stride for stride after him. All of 200m later and it was back to a 2 person race. I was actually really surprised that I was keeping up with this kid. First off he was a guy. Second he had guy legs. Third he had guy lungs. You get the picture. But every time he would start to pull away, I would edge right back up to him. I think it bothers me when people test me like that. But I thought it was better than what the little man in green did. Then, we hit the turns.

It was a short out and back course with quite a few turns that didn't look that bad on paper, but running them turned out to be a fun thing. Track, cross country, or something had prepared me for the turns that day. I just rolled right through and watched little gaps start to form between my stride and 304. Now that felt good. As hard as the race was getting for me, I liked rocking the curves. Mile 1 split: 5:40.

Afterwards, my boss said the guy's face was priceless. He saw the pair of us roll around the turn around and he was gasping. I offered that I was too, or at least I really felt like it, but my boss denied me, "you looked like you could have been running through a field of flowers." Mile 2 split: some where in the upper 5:40's.

That's when I felt the separation build and I took off after the lead cart. I even smiled crossing the finish line. My legs had remembered what to do! I tried to explain to my boss and some of my friends at the finish line after the race the reason why I didn't look so tired or like I joined the struggle bus circus in the race. I was just as tired, just as worn out, and in need of as much oxygen as everyone else. But, college is full of sharks. And if you look like a dying minnow out there, you will be eaten. So, while I may not have always been the fastest going in, I sometimes could pull things off by trying really hard to not look breakable. Non-edible. Mile 3 split: 5:35.

Thank god my body remembered how to do that a bit and my lungs didn't make me sound like I was ready to quit a 3-pack a day habit. To me, it gave me the hope that my dreams of still competing well are not too far out of reach. I had gotten my feet wet. I could see the large pool I was aiming towards, but I also saw the fins swarming in the water. Knowing I am not ready to dive into those shark infested waters, it is time for some puddle enjoyment. Puddle jumping. :)

Final Road 5K time: 17:37 at the Rattler Run 5k. March 26, 2011

Won one for the girls... I am a long way from feeling great, but I am closer to feeling good. More races to come...