My Response

The plan was to stop spending so much time out here in blogland and to be more productive. Things haven’t really gone to plan… A lively discussion unfurled itself on the blogs of The Laminator and Joe Garland about how much mileage should go into a proper marathon training regimen. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading both of their posts and the comments they have sparked. I’ve also enjoyed putting in my two cents worth here and there and getting back well articulated responses to my opinions. This post is an accumulation of thoughts relating to both the ideas shared and the way the sharing took place.

First off, thank you all for putting in the time to read and comment on what I’ve had to say. I know everyone’s über-busy these days and is constantly bombarded by a plethora of different data streams, so it means a lot when you all take time out to stop by.

I think that this whole blogging thing could actually be pretty useful if more people offered constructive criticism and suggestions. It seems to me that there’s a lot of running around patting each other on the asses (metaphorically, of course) and saying great job to everything. Gold stars for everyone! Extra exclamation points!!! This doesn’t help anyone. It creates over-inflated egos and belittles the hard work and dedication that a few exceptional people out there putting into their running. Of course, the fact that this type of behavior exists up here in the blogosphere is no surprise — It’s the way our whole educational system is set up these days. The whole everyone’s a winner bullshit permeates everything we do as children from spelling tests to relay races. No wonder people continue to perpetuate it in their day-to-day adult lives.

I’m not trying to be hypocritical here — I open myself up to that same level of criticism. In fact, I’ve loved reading some of the more critical responses to my ideas about the light mileage approach to the marathon, running two marathons back to back, etc. I might not follow your advice (even if I wanted to follow everyone’s advice, I couldn’t since some of it is conflicting), but I will listen to it, appreciate it, and take it into account when I make my own decisions.

Now, I’d like to shift into more of a discussion on disappointment and the merits of overcoming it. We’ve all had our moments, it seems, where we seem hopelessly slow and think of throwing in the towel. There are millions of runners out there, but only a handful who actually compete to win races. Sure, other people win races — Hell, I even won a 5K once. But, that was just because nobody faster showed up. There are so few that actually win because they are the fastest. So, all the rest of us are slow. Some slower than others, of course, but really, there’s not a lot of difference in my mind between the barely sub 3 hour marathoners out there and the 4 hour plus ones. Neither group is going to take home anything other than the standard finisher’s medal that they give out.

Where am I going with this, you ask? Well, there has to be some reason that we are running. I mean, why are we out there sweating and bleeding to drop seconds off of our P.R.’s when we’ll still be nowhere near the front of the pack? I think it’s because we’re trying to change our own conceptions of who we are and what we are capable of. This is a very personal thing. And therefore, the goals that are appropriate for one runner are not necessarily appropriate for another. Because, although it is important that we continue to push ourselves to reach new goals, we can’t push too hard or running can lose its luster.

Flashback eight years to the first time I ever started training for a marathon. I didn’t have nearly the base that I should have had, but I got up to the sixteen mile training runs and things were going fairly well when I suddenly got hit with a nasty case of pneumonia and didn’t get out of bed for almost a week. I called the marathon off. This, you could argue, was understandable since it was less than two months away. But, what wasn’t excusable was the fact that instead of fighting back and getting ready for the next marathon, I simply quit running for seven years, started smoking, ate crap food, and drank too much. I gave up when I failed to reach my goal.

I apologize if that aside seems superfluous, but I have reason for it… With that in mind, you can understand when I worry about running losing its appeal. When I had the back-to-back disappointments of my Armory miles in January and February and then the Bronx Half Marathon, I was really beginning to doubt whether or not I was doing anything worthwhile by running. My times weren’t nearly what I wanted them to be and I have to admit that I was very tempted to quit as a result.

But I didn’t quit. I’m now eight years older than I was last time I quit running and have the added maturity of those years. This time, I realized that if I stayed too focused in the numbers that I would begin to hate running. I had to relax and start running for the love of running and not for the time that I would put up at each race. And yet, if I gave up my competitive spirit and just started jogging for exercise, I would hate that too. So, where do I mark the line? Am I a runner or a racer? This strange dichotomy has been on the forefront of my mind the past few weeks and was brought back full force by the discussion between Joe and Lam. I guess that’s why I was so intrigued by the dialogue.

Some tough questions were raised: How much training is enough? Does running have to be all or nothing? If you can’t put in the miles required to be the best you could possibly be, can you really call your best your best?