Amazed at the Masters

In this case, Masters are those in the 40+ age category. Almost two years ago I joined the masters category though it didn’t mean until to me until I started running in races.

After seeing the results from the Tunnel Marathon where 11 of the top 20 males were masters, I wanted to write more about the Masters!

When I was involved with ultracycling, I was frequently one of the youngest out there; a majority of riders were in their 40s and 50s. I knew how much of a difference maturity, patience, and experience made. I learned a lot being around those riders, as well from my own experience. The older riders seemed to fare better on the long rides as well. What was not apparent was the absolute speed or strength, especially since these rides were longer – 12 hours or more.

I’ve also heard for a long time that the age groups between 35 and 50 were some of the most competitive out there – from marathons to Ironman to triathlon, and so on. I’d look at race results and I would be amazed at what I saw, both for the actual times and how many strong competitors there are.

Now that I’ve joined the masters, I’m starting to see things a little differently – and actually feel it.

First is the body - certainly the body declines in ability over time – and yet athletes continue to prove that it’s not as much as you might think. Even in my case I’m amazed at the times and pace I’m able to run. I’ve also seen this proved over and over in endurance sports. Even as I write this, Arthur Webb is out running his 15^th Badwater 135 running race – he’s 71! Just a month ago, a team of four cyclists with an average age of 79 finished the Race Across America – 3000 miles – in 9 ½ days. I could go on. Age is not the physically limiter we once thought it was.

Perhaps most importantly is the experience an older athlete has. After so many hours and years of practice, the older athlete can come to know his mind and body extremely well. Combine that with life experience and that’s a powerful combination of potential! The general consensus is that is takes 10,000 hours of practice to begin to become an ‘expert’ on a topic. By age 40 or 45 or 50, there are many with that many hours of athletic experience. I’m in that category as well with over 8,000 hours on the bike. Experience does matter.

I’m thrilled to be a top 20 finisher at a marathon, finishing in the top 5%. I’m also completely humbled and amazed by my ageless peers who finished ahead of me.

Here’s to all the Masters out there!

Pacing

Since I began running a little more than a year ago my idea of pacing has been to listen to the rhythm of my body and let it find the perfect pace for each mile, or each hill. It's worked really well with some fantastic runs in that realm.

I'm now heading towards a race in a few weeks and asked my friend Marty for some advice on final preparations. He was kind enough - and I am quite grateful - to offer his wisdom from so many years of running. The primary workouts Marty has planned for me are pacing workouts - holding a specific pace. Being able to monitor, assess, and hold a consistent pace will be key to keeping my energy strong and heading towards a solid finish.

I haven't done this type of focused pacing for perhaps 20 years, but so far it's been another thrill to really tune in to my body. I'm having to focus effort to within a few seconds over a half mile or a mile, and then do that again and again. Or in some cases go 2-4 seconds faster over the next interval. Finding that precise rhythm has been fun even with its challenges and newness again.

In one of the movies about Steve Prefontaine, Pre as he was called, finishes a race, a 5000 meter race I think. In that race he sets a personal best (and maybe even an American record, but I can't remember). After the race Pre walks over to his coach, the famous Bill Bowerman and the first words from Bowerman are 'you could go 10 seconds faster.' Pre stands there dumbfounded and even a little pissed after running the race of his life. Bowerman then proceeds to rattle after precise quarter mile splits. If Pre had paced right the race he just finished would have been even faster.

Putting all that together has given me a new appreciation of the importance of pacing, and a finer sense of the rhythms of my body on a run which I'm really enjoying.

Stopping

Tonight I started listening to a radio program by an astrologer, Debra Silverman. She started by talking about the earthquake in Mexico and how at times of crisis is when we ask for help. She was going to use the idea of asking for help as the theme for her program. I had been thinking about calling in for a reading, but went for a run instead. I wasn’t sure what I would ask for help for.

It’s been a little more than two weeks since my big weekend of running with resulting strains and sore muscles. Very slowly the legs are recovering, but it doesn’t help that I’m still running 35-40 miles a week. I’ve had some amazing runs in the past two weeks, but more than enough that were less-than-comfortable. The first miles of my runs are always my warmup; tonight was no exception, except I wasn’t warming up.

My legs and hips were sore, my breathing was choppy again, my mind was charging along on its own. I was wondering about my 50k coming up in 6 weeks and if I’d be ready. I was wondering how my legs were going to recover. I was wondering how I should structure my the next weeks to deal with my soreness and still train.

And then I had enough. I just stopped, turned off my watch, and turned around to walk home. I knew right then I was not going in the right direction and I didn’t want to keep going that way.

What my body needs is true rest and recovery. If I can still run 40 miles a week, I clearly have enough energy to focus on active recovery.

What my mind needs is to stop ‘training’. I’ve spent years training and structuring, planning out months in advance what I’m going to do. Right now I don’t want to be there. I still want to run faster and farther, but not at the expense of a settled mind.

What my soul needs is to enjoy running fully. I’ve still enjoyed my runs the last couple weeks, but with my body and my mind off in different directions, it hasn’t been the same.

This blog is supposed to be about running. Life happens though and we have to adjust, just like on any run.

So I’m asking for help – something I’m usually not too good at. I don’t know from whom I need help, or even what that help might look like. I’m putting it out there that I’m asking for help. I have faith that whatever comes will be perfect.

In the mean time, I’m going to slow down.

Running in Miniature

This morning's run was a loop around the Boulder Resevoir with an additional loop into the Boulder Valley Ranch Open Space.

As I ran it felt like I was in a bubble. Like I was in a movie set built just for me, similar to Jim Carrey's movie The Truman Show, or maybe a massive diorama like third graders make. The set extended west to the Rockies rising so quickly; the south and east flanked by the rise of the Boulder Valley; and north extending to Haystack Mountain and then to the Plateau that sends the atomic clock signal into space. In that massive set I felt tiny, especially against Bear Mountain rising to 8500 feet and several 14ers rising even farther west.

Within my 'set', everything seemed to be deliberate, like it was built just for me to see and experience this morning; all the houses, the fences, the roads, the rocks, the water, the footprints. Everything was perfectly designed to fit in with its own perfect place and shape.

There was a perfect stillness to it all, even with the wind blowing fairly strong. It also seemed like time was stopped; there wasn't much movement anywhere - no cars, no people, no birds - just me and my dog and the sun rising in the east.

Part of me was confused, part in awe, part in a deep peace, part of me felt the experience to be perfectly normal. Nothing about this made sense to me in any logical or reasonable way and still it felt entirely normal being a place I'd been in dozens of times before, including yesterday morning.

Maybe this didn't really happen, maybe it was a different reality, maybe my waffles this morning had some extra potency. Regardless of what it was, it was another great run with an unusual setting. After the run - well I drove off into Lefthand Canyon, through the horizon and my imaginary movie set, and back to a reality.

Chasing Squirrels

This is somewhat of a follow on to my last post about MentalStrength, though from an entirely different point of view.

Recently I began running with one of my dogs, Luca. He’s used to regular 2-3 hours hikes and running around during those hikes. The steady, quicker paced run is a little different for him and I’ve been working him into longer runs.

About a month ago I took Luca for a 10.5 mile run which turned out to be about 1:50. That was certainly Luca’s longest run and he did well. About 90 minutes into the run I saw a squirrel ahead on the trail, and I’m sure Luca saw it as well since he was running right next to me. I had an instant question – I wonder if Luca will chase the squirrel? With that came an almost instant answer, probably not, he’s probably pretty tired.

Luca proved me wrong as soon as the thought came through; he was off sprinting uphill to chase that squirrel and bounded right into the woods to find the tree it had scampered up. Scanning the trees and barking he was enjoying himself.

Luca didn’t ask how tired he was, he probably didn’t care that to chase the squirrel he had to go uphill, he had no concern about how much farther till the end of the run or how to recover. Luca just went. Pure instinct, no question, no thought. (Or at least that’s what I imagine.)

The question I asked from the Mental Strength post was; how to draw on or access whatever strength there is?

Maybe that’s where we get in trouble – when we start asking questions of what we’re capable of, or how to access it. Instead if we just follow what Luca did and just went for it. Relying on instinct and our gut to gather the strength and resources we have to use them.

Mental strength

Today I came across this article by Chrissie Wellington, a 4-time Ironman Hawaii winner. The article is titled: "Ironman champ: Train your brain, then your body." The title says it all, she talks about how important mental training can be and shares some of the technique she has used to improve her mental focus.

It's no secret mental training is important. Yogi Berra is quoted as saying, "baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical," which can be applied many things. There isn't much new in the article. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I read it, but it provoked other reactions from me.

As I read it, I was a bit surprised that I have almost never used of these techniques, nor any others on a consistent basis. I've completed many tough events, including multi-day ones, and gotten through some of lifes challenges. I certainly have a solid mental strength and I think most who know me would agree. So I wondered how did that happen? The only real conclusion I could draw is that it's practice. Being out there running, swimming, cycling, hiking, doing, over and over and over again. Until it's second nature and not much phases me.

The real question that came to mind was how to draw on or access whatever strength there is? What do we do in our heads, in our bodies, with our hearts to reach deeper? To make it through? Can we access it at any time? Are there times when it's particularly strong?

I've had a related conversation with a friend. She told a story of being on a run and just floating up hills, past her running companions, flying downhill, every step and stride perfect and finishing with a fantastic pace. She commented it was probably a fluke and that she couldn't do that again. The conversation continued with a 'could' versus 'wanted to'. I firmly believed that she could do it again, but whether she wanted or needed to was a different question.

I've been involved with ultracycling for 18 years, as a participant, as an organizer, as a supporter. I've seen thousands of people find their strength, gather it, build it, perservere. Even go deeper and farther than they thought they could.

For all I've done I don't have an answer for myself. The closest I can think of is something I remember from a book called 'At the Edge' by Kirk Johnson, which is a chronicle of his preparation and running of the Badwater 135 race. In the book Johnson talked about what he did when he wanted to stop in the middle of a run to walk or rest. He would ask the question - do I need to stop? There are times when stopping is needed for food or water, etc. Still I think that sums it up for me - there was no need to stop.

Or perhaps it's hope. We often need our strength in the deepest of struggles whether it's the last mile of a marathon, or the middle of the night on a 24 hour ride. At those times, we know it may get harder - and we also know it's going to get better. Better could be the finish line, better could be a sunrise, better could be a downhill, better could be a bowl of soup at the next town.

I don't know.

What I do know is that we ALL have more strength than we can possibly imagine. And somehow we call on it when we need it and it's always there for us.