Conversations in Restraint
Over the past few years, I've come to realise that one size definitely does not fit all when it comes to sporting pursuits. It seems that almost every few weeks, I read, hear or see something that validates my opening statement. Maybe it is just my inquisitive nature, but I am constantly fascinated at how many people approach a common goal, sport or activity in their own unique way.
On Boxing Day, I participated in a local 16km running event that included not a little bit of climbing. The race went very well by my standards; I was excited about participating in the week leading up to it and I felt that my result was a good reflection of that. Yet my own lead up to this race was far from what might be considered conventional.
Two weeks prior, I had competed in another local road race, albeit a shorter event over 10km. This is not to say that this preceding event was any less intense; it most certainly was not. In the fifteen days between these respective events, my daily training consisted of running (read: jogging) at an effort that could be best described as pathetically slow. This extended to my weekly cycle, where I'm not afraid to admit that some people did actually pass me going up the various well known climbs that adorn our beautiful Cape Peninsula. I also admit that I did not chase after them for a bit of half-wheeling either, but rather noted their equipment and technique, amongst other things.
Chatting to some fellow competitors post race, the main topic of conversation was about how hard we have all trained over various periods of our lives and the consequences of that. One of them commented on how a local lass gradually improved over a period of three years leading into a purple patch of another three years, where she dominated the local marathon scene. The other guy related to setting a series of personal best times over various distances after a period of relentless training. Both instances had the same common denominator though; the athletes in question reached a peak and then broke down due to illness, injury or accumulated fatigue. Both instances resulted in an extended period away from the sport to recover.
Which led me to a question that I often ask myself: is it really worth it, the obsessive-compulsive approach that is?
Another recurring thought is: there has to be another way, where we can avoid the seemingly inevitable breakdown and still to perform to the best of our abilities.
I can certainly relate to both stories. Their have been times in my life that I've overdone things in the quest for peak performance only to experience extended periods of illness, injury, fatigue, despondency etc. Most of those instances have been driven my things like self-pressure, peer-pressure or trying to emulate professional heroes that I've read about in magazines. And almost every instance has resulted in a sub-par performance in the actual event that I was aspiring to. When one attaches self-esteem to arbitrary things like mileage totals, heart-rates or number of events completed, the simple joy of the actual activity is lost and the pursuit of the activity is for the wrong reasons. It really doesn't have to be that way. Ego almost always has had a role to play in my own periods of “mileage-chasing”, but a few years of gradual moderation and actually learning from my mistakes have truly given me a new lease of athletic life.
Instead of pursuing unrealistic mileage totals, rigid schedules and the deluded title of “king of training”, my philosophy has gradually evolved towards the joy of daily exercise, taking in the view, enjoying the moment and saving myself for occasional 110% efforts at selected athletic events. If doing things slower, shorter but more frequently means a greater chance of athletic longevity, then so be it. Rather enjoy the journey than worrying about whether the weather is going to interfere with that 5:30am long ride planned for 23 days time. Just go with flow and flow will find you. Another positive spin off of this approach has been my pursuit other work projects and activities that I previously only thought about, but would have interfered with my quest of hours accumulated over seven days.
As our conversation was ending off, one of the guys shared his admiration for a fellow club mate who regularly rolls out top times and embarrasses athletes half his age. He focuses on the “short stuff” - cross country, 10km etc – and only occasionally races anything longer than a half-marathon. This is quite unique given the strong marathon/ultra-marathon scene that is prevalent here in South Africa. Well into his mid-forties, he apparently doesn't feel old and to be honest, is actually improving as the years go by.
Now there is something to aspire to.
It is the day after the event and I'm feeling pretty drained, but in a good way. I went cycling this morning on one of my favourite routes that normally takes about two hours. Today was at least twenty minutes slower because I just rolled along trying to absorb yesterday's effort and enjoy the scenery and the holiday atmosphere. A rigid scheduled might have called for a specific time period at a specific effort but in all honestly I could not have gone any faster – the ride would just not have been at all enjoyable. Some late afternoon gardening and chores rounded off an enjoyable day.
Rain is forecast for tomorrow morning so my goal is to make it to the local coffee shop by 8am to meet friends. I'm unsure of what sort of training I will do but should have a clearer picture by midday. Mood, energy levels and weather will guide me. All I know for sure is that it won't be in the morning.
