What does running mean to you

Hi

The other day I was coaching running and the youngest runner in our group, 25, came up to me and asked “ How do I get faster? How do I become a better runner?” This young man has many many things going for him. He is reasonably talented, not sure how talented, but there is something there. He has already put in some work to be the best runner he can be. Most of all he is only 25. I am the classic “ if I had only taken running seriously I would be………”. That could’ve would’ve should’ve guy. And here is this young man and he can, he should and hopefully will leave it all on the ground? Road? Trail? Well wherever he will race he has the opportunity to decide how far he wants to go along the path to the runner he can be.

Before we talked about anything I asked him to decide one thing, “ What do you want running to mean to you?” What I mean by this is; is running going to be a hobby, a serious hobby, a way to stay fit, a social vehicle, are you thinking of making part of a career, what about going full out and giving it everything you have got and really seeing how far you can go,?

For me at his age running was a kinda cool thing that few people did and with a mid sized kinda effort on and off I was pretty good at it. Running meant to me, though almost without much thought, that some local success was good enough. I look back and wonder, without very much regret, what if I was willing to ask that question and answer with something more lofty. What might have been? Who know but I wish I would have asked myself this.  I very well might have been the same runner that I was anyway. I didn’t really think to ask that question and nobody was around to ask it for me. Today I ask that question much more often. I coach, I have this very satisfying trail endeavour and I commit to nearly every year with seriousness and hard work. Running means more and more each year as I age and look to stay in good fitness to be able to enjoy the other parts of my life. This is definitely not a question I even thought to ask at 25. There are  many questions that I did not ask myself at 25 that I wish I would have asked.

Running at my age, 56, still feels pretty much the same as it did some 30 years ago. I know many would challenge me on that statement but it pretty much does. I lace on my shoes and head out the door and work as hard as I can almost every time out. I feel just as fast and still get a great deal of satisfaction out of a strong run. The changes are evident when the finish line clock has numbers that are too high and slowly getting higher still. I am still somewhat in denial. I shake my head a little and wonder why those numbers aren’t a bit more friendly. It hurts a little that my age is a factor when people say great race. I firmly believe that I can still get those numbers back to a acceptable level but the numbers don’t lie and where I hope to get to many would say it is unrealistic. So I ask myself “ What does running mean to me?”

My thoughts on the vaporflys

So here is my opinion on the Nike Vaporflys et al. For me and most of us, completion only exists within a very narrow range. Either against our historical self or against a few others of like aged and similarly geographical location. So when I wander about in my house putting on my running kit, always loved that the English called it a kit, and get ready to head out the door for a run I love the fact that I have no reference point for success or failure. I run alone and without a watch. I never ever want to be competing against historical Lawrence. I hate that guy. He is always younger and almost always faster. I train very very hard. Most runs are at around half marathon pace or faster. On perceived effort I mostly break even with the historical me and seeing as I have no other measure I come out feeling pretty satisfied. On most days after a run the only question that I ask myself is “ how was today’s run? “ I like that question, simple and easy to answer. I would hate the question, “ How did today’s run compare to every other run I have ever done?” Bad question.  Ok, so what if it is race day and they have clocks there ya know and post results which invite nothing but comparisons to past days and other runners who I view as comparable. That dude is in my age group and so on. Ok so on race days I compare. I beat so and so by so much. I was worse than last years version of me by so much. On and on I go, happy with a good comparison and pulling out excuses when I compare poorly. This is the life of the runner. This is why I love racing and hate it so much. This is why on most race morning I am puking my guts out. Expectations ahhhhhhh noooooooo, barf.

Ok, so back to the Vaporflys et al. So the research goes that these puppies are 4 or 5 % faster. That’s about 100 seconds, give or take over a half marathon at the pace I run. That’s a lot. The difference between, yay I ran a 1:16:30 or crap I ran a 1:18:00. The drive home can be a lot less whiny if I run the former or so my wife says. I am not a Luddite who used a typewriter to do this post and have happily gone along with the marginal improvements in shoe technology over the years. My New Balance shoes are definitely better than my first Brooks running shoes and thank god they are. I do fondly remember, and have in the attic, my awesome Tiger/Assics from those early days. They were pretty awesome and would be cool but not awesome today. Ok so Vaporflys. What will this mean? Firstly it would means that I am no longer competing against historical Lawrence. My points of reference would be  gone. My running career ends and starts anew. As much as I hate the performances of my past defining my present I still enjoy knowing what exactly they are. So no, I am not giving that up for a sizeable technology boost. Secondly and this is where the rubber hits the road a little bit harder, what about the other folks who are now wearing these shoes and being that chunk faster. We all have a top limit defined by our age and talent. Training is our experiment to get as close to that limit as successfully as possible. Do you the shoes help you get closer to that limit or actually change the limit itself?  When I go to the start line of any race I look around to see who is there and sometimes I will see someone who I view as a competitor for my age group or as a master or even for a top spot overall (trail races only, which do not have the controversy) and how do I feel if I see them wearing Vaporflys? To be honest it might irk me some but that is my problem with advancing technology and it is not really logical nor reasonable. Sure the shoes can float all boats higher and the sea is still level but only if everyone wears then or something similar. The shoes are very expensive and that is not what running is about. You shouldn’t be able to buy an advantage but shoes are generally expensive and therefore money does buy some greater success. My greatest fear about these types of shoes is soon that’s all that will be available because the other shoes aren’t giving that advantage the choices will be limited but again technology moves forward. The more fancy the sport becomes and the more it is about absolutes and metrics  I fear we lose the joy. I know, I have lost some of that joy with making it about what my running results say about me and what I sometimes say about them. I am guilty of “ what’s your PB?” and “ How many Bostons ? “ from time to time and I feel ashamed of that but my ego enjoys this and so I brag. So if results matter so much to me  shouldn’t I use the Vaporflys? For me and me alone, No. Instead of investing in the shoes, I should invest in more in myself and look more at joy rather than my hypocrisy at shoes which are fine and are no more an advantage than my present shoes were over ones from bygone days. More sudden a leap perhaps but unfair? As much as I am a “ purist”, whatever that means? and though I am often called a throwback or an iconoclast ( nice word for stubborn older guy) in my cotton shirts and simple gear, I am good with whoever wears the shoes and why. For me the answer is no but I draw my line of hypocrisy where I draw it and who am I to say it is better drawn than anyone else’s.

Two 50 K races do not a 100 K make

In 2019 I did my two first 50 K races. The first one, Arches Ultra in Moab Utah, was at the end of January. The second, North Face Endurance Challenge California, was in the middle of November. What did I expect, what was the experience in each and what did I learn? All the usual questions for anything. At this stage in my running career it is unusual and  fun to come in to a race as a first timer. I felt little pressure to perform well, “ hey this is not my thing” and so few folks I know have done an ultra so it can be nice and low key. 50 K races are not at all a marathon with 8 or so extra kilometres tacked on at the end. Nope, not all. They are more like the hardest marathon you have ever run but on trails with crazy nutty assed aspects like all slickrock or descents that are steep as hell with those drive me crazy wood steps spaced just far enough that you can’t possibly take a proper stride and are set up like a deranged steeplechase course. Then add 8 K more of the same and poof there ya go, an Ultra.

What did I expect?  Well, I thought a 50 K would be hardish but not too bad at all. I was wrong, straight out wrong. Like 1 + 7 = 17 wrong.

What did I learn – The first one, Arches, seemed very hard, lots of slickrock and hard to find little blue flags that seemingly got harder to find the more tired I got. However hard Arches was, North Face was next level. Uphills which were outrageous and few opportunities for settling into a flow for more than a few hundred metres.  I know this means little to anyone who doesn’t know the Marin headlands well but the hill coming back through Tennessee Valley is Alex Honnold steep. I like hills, I like running hills, I seek out hard hills ( Yosemite Falls trail, yay lets do it one more time, Angels Landing in Zion awesome)  but boy I hated that Tennessee Valley hill. Each ultra is its own beast and so far in the two I have done, jeez louise, both were, though very different,beasts. I learned your mental game better be top notch and finding kindred souls along the course who can identify with your pain, thank you Derrick at North Face, is imperative. Gallows humour goes a long way when you have a long way to go. Food is kinda sorta really important. Hey I don’t even drink water in anything less than a 25 K race let alone eat food. At North Face, I drank and gelled up all through the race but still found myself at 35 K pretty much out of gas. At the 38 K aid station where I would have had to rally to die, I pigged out on a bunch of PB and J sandwiches and some oranges. I may have even eaten a plastic spoon. Within 10 minutes I could feel myself not only rise from the dead but up the last major hill I went running all the way and finished my last 10 K in 43 minutes. There are definitely more emotional/physical swings. Trying to ride out the very low points can be hard and I got through those by knowing I have been there before and knowing that I will emerge. Believing my race will continue stronger is where the mental strength is so vital. The 40 or so marathons that are behind me helped but so did other experiences like lengthy mountain bike trips through wonderful and terribly difficult places like the Middle East and Africa. Knowing that I will always continue helps when the spirit says otherwise.

What was the experience like? Further to what is written above, there is a slight feeling of survival/zombie apocalypse to an Ultra. During the buzz before the start you get the feeling looking around that some of us probably won’t make it back alive. Each race felt “far” as trail races naturally do. The kilometres go by so much slower than in a road race. North Face felt very far but that was mostly because the race was built around six monster climbs and I knew where I was in the race by how many of these I had done. There is a ton of gear and weird contraptions that abound for liquid intake and food consumption. It is definitely not a shorts and t-shirt crowd though that’s exactly what I ran in. The fine mist of the headlands directly north of the Golden Gate Bridge drenched and cloaked me during the early miles eventually giving way to a phenomenal view,  on the  last decent,  of the bridge towers piercing through the thick fog. Whereas Arches offered the muted and pastel colours of Utah. The finish there was not as scenic and the last mile or so took the runners away from the finish before doubling back to it and that “ so close yet so far “ feeling was tough.

Ultras are definitely going to be a part of my running future. I look into the crystal ball and see multiple 50 K races and somewhere soon a 100 K. My long term goal is to run Western States. To do that means running a race of at least 100 K from a specific list of qualifying races just to get into the lottery. Getting in through the lottery could take 4 or 5 years which is fine. I will hone my Ultra skills and try to see each one as a learning experience. I have taken the first two lessons and l am ready for the next. I spend my time searching for an Ultra without some of the more extreme features but that’s like skipping the hard questions in the homework.