Beach Jogging, Laziness and the Quest for Silver
Ultra
distance events are interesting in many respects. Their ridiculous distances
aside, the participants are what make these events special, not to mention the
respective journeys they follow in the quest to meet their athletic goals.
Thinking
back to the late nineties, I was a young buck with big dreams of achieving the
much vaunted Two Oceans Marathon silver medal. Given my 10km times back then as
well as my triathlon background, breaking four hours for 56km did not seem that
big a deal. While it would be a challenge, I was confident that an average
running pace of 4min15sec/km was well within my grasp. I mean, anybody can jog
at that recovery run pace, right? Maybe not.
What
I failed to grasp could be summarised as follows:
-
the extremely hilly nature of the route.
-
the deadening effect of running extended distances on asphalt.
-
the bodily imbalances exacerbated due to the extreme road cambers.
-
respect for the distance.
-
the power of restraint.
-
arriving at the start healthy.
-
my age at the time.
Needless
to say that those two consecutive attempts at glory were dismal and painful
lessons by not respecting the above pointers. After my second try, I resolved
to never again attempt the ultra-distance, even though I did manage to post
some fairly decent personal marathon results over the next few years. Looking
back now, those two attempts were not necessarily the failures that they
appeared to be. Sure, the end result was not what I had hoped but that was
perhaps one of the main contributing factors to my shuffling misery. In short,
I was too attached to the end result as opposed to enjoying the journey.
It
is amazing how a single-minded approach to a specific goal can affect a person,
irrespective of whether the end result is achieved or not. I do know of some
cases where athletes have even performed beyond their expectations only to be
left with a feeling of emptiness shortly thereafter, effectively a “what now”
reaction. This phenomenon is surprisingly commonplace in today's Type-A /goal-orientated
environment. I believe that a large part of this problem together with the
endemic under-performance/overtraining syndrome is treating one's sporting
goals as a separate entity from daily life. Ignoring the variables and
challenges that day-to-day living throws at us is not only detrimental to a
person's sporting prowess, but also to life and general well-being as a whole.
My
own approach to my personal athletic aspirations have evolved over the years,
mainly by learning from others and, possibly more importantly, from my own
mistakes. Those two seeming failures at Two Oceans a decade-and-a-half ago have
remained with me as lessons learned. Interestingly, the two years immediately
following those misadventures saw me completing consecutive Ironman triathlons.
My motivations for those long-distance triathlons were completely opposite to
my Two Oceans mindset. South Africa had never hosted an official Ironman event
up until that point and, having been a triathlete since my pre-teens, I had
always aspired to complete that distance. The mystique and challenge of the
event excited me and I loved every single minute of my preparation in the lead
up. By not being totally focussed on the time or position and “enjoying the
ride” resulted in a blissful two years of chasing the “M-dot” dream.
The
last few years have seen me rekindle my passion for competitive road and
cross-country running. Steady improvement has resulted in some great personal
performances, especially in the last eight months. A large part of this
“racing-euphoria” can be attributed to a marked attitude shift, in other words
embracing the now and enjoying the journey. A key element in achieving this
pure mindset is to trust one's instincts and not getting caught up in what
everybody else is doing.
Am
I doing what is best for me in today in terms of my personal health and
athletic longevity?
The
above question is possibly the most underrated piece of training advice around.
Yet it is perhaps the most important. Remember that eleven-minute jog I related
to in a recent post?
That short burst of slow movement was possibly one of my most valuable training
sessions so far this year. Were my running peers to learn of that particular
training day, I would no doubt be the butt of jokes. It doesn't matter though,
just like it didn't matter getting the piss taken out of me for my run/walk
protocol in Two Oceans 2014.
No
coach or athlete truly knows you. I really do wish that more people would
realise this. That said, it has taken me several years to actually apply this
mindset and approach in my own athletic endeavours. Instead of trying to do as
much volume as I can possibly handle, I have gradually adopted a template that
could be best described as “soft” in the masochistic world of endurance
competition. In short, my approach could be defined as one where peak
performance is pursued via a daily quest to enjoy the process and get by with
the least amount of volume, intensity and sacrifice necessary. This seemingly
“lazy” approach in fact has actually allowed me to go beyond preconceived
limits on occasion, some key highlights in 2014 being:
-
An almost four hour long run/hike in the mountains, forests and botanical
gardens of the Southern Suburbs of Cape Town in mid-February. The day was
pristine with bright sunshine and blue skies, which only appeared after the
first hour since my excitement and anticipation of this session saw me start
pre-dawn.
-
Three 10km races, descending in times of 37:01 (windy, dragging course); 36:29
(fast, flat, windless course); 35:58 (fast, flat, twisty course).
-
Some Sunday afternoon forty-ish minute easy jogs on Muizenberg beach at low
tide, thus conditioning my abductors and adductors for the painful road cambers
found in Two Oceans, but without the deadening and damaging effect of a tar
road.
All
other running consisted daily 20-45min jogs to or from work, almost weekly 2
hour forest runs and daily calisthenics and/or pilates poses. All training and
racing was and is devoid of timing devices, heart rate monitors and measured
routes, relying totally on mood, instinct and weather conditions.
Come
race day, I just ran (and walked) to how I felt. The first time I saw a clock
was at 50km, which indicated that silver was not going to happen, although I
would be fairly close. Finishing in 4h08min was truly satisfying, knowing that
I couldn't have gone any faster at any point on the route. By trusting my
instincts and going with the flow, the ensuing result was a true reflection of
my ability on the day. If I can be happy with the results that a recovery-based
daily regimen produces, then so be it. As long as I have my health and am able
to move daily, what more do I want? And by enjoying the journey, the knock-on
effect is case of lifetime best running shape, something that I need to save
now and use sparingly in the upcoming cross-country season.
But
that is in a month’s time. The challenge now becomes how to effectively recover
from an event so arduous. A few weeks of easy jogging and surf-spotting
Saturday morning bike rides are on the cards, together with more sleep.
Time
to hibernate a bit. It is autumn after all.
