Retirement doesn't sit easily. I retired from racing once before, just to take on trails and ultras as a new field. I had to learn a lot; all the "rules" I'd developed in shorter races just no longer seemed to apply. I'm not good at it, but I liked the fact that I was challenged to see things in a new light.
I see now that the challenge to come is to use what I learned in running what I used to do. [I'll give you a while to chew on that convoluted sentence.]
Once you get past all the gels and lamps and bottles and lubricants, what is there really that I learned from the long trails? There's something about heart rate training, which I picked up tangentially. There's mental preparation. There's muscular recruitment - tiny muscles you didn't know you had can be important. There's some practical technique stuff (for example, if you run uphill and throw in a sprint at the start, it's much harder than if you throw one in at the top).
I had to look at why I competed and at what I enjoy doing. As much as keeping score in beating people can be entertaining, I really compete because competition brings out just a little extra effort from me (and I can quantify it!), but in ultras, that extra doesn't mean much to me; I'm not designed for it and while I can finish 100 miles, I can't be competitive at the distance; an extra 20 seconds per mile by racing is meaningless.
I like pushing myself. I've always thought that most runners never know what their limits are, because they've never pushed themselves to those limits. I'd see someone win an award by cruising most of the way and throwing in a burst at the end for show and they're soon off chatting and running another 10 miles; in contrast, the last athlete I coached (I'm newly available for coaching, by the way), when he refused to work until he puked in front of me found the puke came out through his nose (a proud moment for me as a coach and one reason I'm available as a coach. [Reasonable rates. Unreasonable demands.])
I'm starting to see what I want to do. If I don't have a goal, I don't run at all and that doesn't work well for me. That goal just won't involve racing, unless and until there's no other way to get there. Racing should be the frosting on the cake and I've been trying to live on frosting.
It's going to take a while to find my direction, but I think I'm on my way.
Bonus: 2005 Chiwaupee Trail race footage: Dave getting to the start line
First big snow
3 days ago
11 comments:
If I were to ever have a coach, you would be top pick. Your philosophy fits like a glove - finding the limit, then pushing just a little more to make certain it is the limit.
The art and beauty of running - feeling good for a few miles, then willing oneself to feel a little less good, followed by what the hell, I want to feel pain!
I have never puked from running, although I have given what seemed to be all I had time and time again. That seems to be a worthy goal this summer - run a 7 mile trail race, and upon crossing the finish, empty what remains of my guts on the trail side.
"I had this guy who used to tell me, 'Fam, you need to go out and run with reckless abandon.' What does that mean? I’ve realized that it means to just go out there and put everything on the line—everything that you have. There’s no conservation; there are no tactics; just go out there and hammer it. That’s what I did at the Olympic Trials: I just ran reckless. I did look back at certain points of the race and was like, 'Damn, how big my lead is!' In the final, I kept looking up at the JumboTron. I was like 'Holy crap, I have that big of a lead?' The last lap or so, I just slowed down to make sure I got over the barriers safely—make sure I didn’t fall. That’s what it is to run reckless. I could have looked like a complete idiot going out that hard in the Trials final. I could have blown up, but I had enough faith in myself to be able to run that way. You train hard and smart and you race recklessly. You are going to fall and get hurt; it’s just part of the game—part of the event. It takes a certain type of person to be a steeplechaser. You have to have guts." - Fam
Fam: Steeplechase is a strange sport. I remember watching Henry Rono and thinking "He makes it look so easy. I could do that." I was wrong: one leg on either side of the barrier, then face down in the water barrier, then rolling over to see spikes aimed at my head.
"Reckless abandon" also implies complete joy and freedom. That's harder to find than a new PR.
BTW, folks, if that really IS Fam commenting, we have a new winner in the "over-qualified for this blog" contest: sub-4 mile, 13:11 (I think) 5K.
Is that Anthony Famiglietti? I love it!
I am no longer taking writing style hints from people who use words like "quantitate". Sorry.
Or maybe anonymous is just quoting fam?
"Racing should be the frosting on the cake and I've been trying to live on frosting."
I liked that quote, Steve. I have found that I generally get more enjoyment from my long training runs than I do the actual races themselves. I wish you well in finding your next big thing. And whatever that is, please keep blogging. I thoroughly enjoy your writing.
Finally saw my first bluebird of the season today!
so... how many athletes would you accept to coach? still doing one at a time or are you open to accepting more? (mostly a question out of curiosity not personal interest because the puking and unreasonable demands are just too scary for me :) ).
Piccola: I'm actually a pretty easy-going coach; I just like to sound tough. I think once you've shown someone what they can do, then the coach's responsibility is t reign them back in before they get hurt.
I might coach more than one person at a time - it depends upon how needy the athletes are.
Piccola: I'm actually a pretty easy-going coach; I just like to sound tough. I think once you've shown someone what they can do, then the coach's responsibility is t reign them back in before they get hurt.
I might coach more than one person at a time - it depends upon how needy the athletes are.
I'd be interested in talking about coaching. I've just started getting into ultras and I enjoy pushing myself. I've never puked from a run (that wasn't a beer mile) so consider the gauntlet thrown down.
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