Songs of Experience

Most sound coaching philosophies start with a goal race and count backwards to the beginning of a training phase. If you periodize your training, you should have several plateaus along the way, with a final peak at the end of a year. My own seasonal system consisted of a summer base phase focusing on mileage with a goal (plateau) road race at the end of August; then a fall hill phase of alternating long and short hills each week, with cross-country nationals as the mid-year goal (NCAA’s in November or open US XC champs, which used to be in December); next came the winter speed training … which is where I radically differ from most coaches, who don’t introduce raw speed-works until the last three weeks of outdoors. The plateau goal at the end of the winter phase was indoor track nationals – usually a shorter race like the mile or 3k. The final phase employed race-specific intervals, mostly on the track, with lots and lots of surges thrown in to the work-outs to simulate racing. My bread and butter in the spring was “split intervals” (I can explain if anyone is interested). The ultimate goal was to run my best race of the year at outdoor nationals (a time and/or place goal I would have set on September 1st), to have all of my physical strength and mental energy peaking on the same day.

Knowing this, imagine what it would be like to have your goal race snatched away from you just one week before you were able to perform. This happened to my middle child, Rosie. One week before her “goal race” equivalent – her year-end piano recital – she fell off the monkey bars at school and nearly-broke her elbow. It was painful for her to use any part of that arm, especially for the powerful fortissimo chords in Toccata in D minor. Her piano teacher planned and then canceled one make-up recital after another, while my Rosie practiced and practiced and practiced some more her recital piece.

There comes a point where if you sharpen the blade too much it will blunt. I was worried that Rosie would never feel the satisfation of a completed cycle – of finishing something she started and of saying, “well done” when it was over. Soooo, I scheduled my own recital for Rosie in our livingroom. I invited the neighbors and a few close friends, printed out programs that the girls decorated, set up chairs all around the piano, and offered home-made lemon meringue pie & coffee afterward.

On Sunday, February 19th – a full 2 months after her scheduled, “official” recital – 8 year-old Rosie banged away with great passion and poise while I took my seat in the corner – admiring her work … and my own (she was going to have her day, dammit, and it was my job to make it happen. Thank goodness I learned all this from running). Dave recorded Rosie’s “goal race” for his mom and dad – who couldn’t make the recital – so I thought I’d share it with you.

Enjoy!

Rosie’s Recital Piece [3MB]

“The Games were over for this time around. He knew quite well that for him they were over for good. Four years is a very long time in some circles; in actual time … real-world time, as that of shopkeepers, insurance sellers, compounders of interest and so on … it is perhaps not long at all. But in his own mind Time reposed in particular receptacles; to him the passing of one minute took on all manner of rare meaning. A minute was one fourth of a four-minute mile, a coffee spoon of his days and ways.”

From Once a Runner, by John L. Parker (first published in 1978)

Last month, I sat down with John L. Parker in the corporate offices of Fleet Feet Sports in Carrboro, NC to interview him about the much-anticipated sequel to Once a Runner, Again to Carthage.

Among other things, I asked Parker if he regretted not breaking the 4:00 mile. “Regret’s too strong a word,” he thoughtfully responded, “because that implies maybe you shouldn’t have done it at all. And that’s really a big theme in Once a Runner (whether people recognize it or not), the philosophical question of whether this is worth doing, you know? And I think people can honestly answer it in different ways and be correct.”

Listen to the entire interview. [55:36, 26 MB] The audio isn’t perfect, but it’s listenable. The quality will be better for the next one. Promise.

It’s time for another Grass Roots Interview.
Below is an excerpt from my talk with back-of-the-packer, Paula Malek … mother of four and lover of life!

SoE: I’m here with Paula Malek and I want to talk to you about being in the back pack. We now refer to you all as “The Jet Pack.”

Paula: Right, Patti changed that.

SoE: First of all, do you have a problem with the name “the back pack?”

Paula: I never did. Never did. That’s where I am! That’s where I feel comfortable, so no. Patti just ran with us a few times and felt we were faster than the name may have said.

SoE: It’s all relative, you know, because the back pack of this group would be the front pack of most other running groups around. Do you ever feel you have to explain that to anyone?

Paula: Never. Because running has never been defined that way for me. I’ve never felt like I had to explain my level of speed to anybody.

SoE: You come from a family of runners; did anyone from your family run before you?

Paula: No. I started and it was progressive; running met my needs as I’ve changed.
In college it was about weight – you know what I mean?– then I could go have a couple of beers. When the kids were little, I was more emotional; it just got me out of the house, kept me calm. Better mom. And then as I got closer to 40 I just wanted to finish something. I had started this doctoral program, the house – we were always remodeling, nothing is ever finished, never clean – so, the marathon was like this goal I could finish. I printed something off of the internet and made it real official, put it on the refrigerator, and if it said 60 minutes the whole family knew. That validated it. It was almost like an intellectual need being satisfied. And then I found, later, with you guys (seejanerun) this whole emotional, soulful part of running that had never been there before. That’s what I needed then because I was home and I was a little more isolated and the Janes is more social for me – 90% social. I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings! Some of the Janes I barely know and may never know that well. Some I feel like I’ve know all my life. Really powerful.

SoE: You’ve just described some amazing transitions in your life as a runner.

Paula: Yeah, it’s always done what I’ve needed it to do

SoE: So, what do you think is the next phase?

Paula: I don’t know exactly, but I know I’ll be running.

During our last circle time, I asked the Janes to go around and say one thing they remembered about the season and this is what Paula wrote:

Thanks again for another great season. I was thinking about what my reflection might be if I were to come to circle. Nothing philosophical but just a cute story. At Hogan’s [2nd grade] teacher conference last week his teacher said that they had been talking about athletes. Hogan raised his hand and said that his mom was an athlete. He told him that I run with a lot of women named Jane. He continued to detail how a lot of the Janes win the races but his mom doesn’t yet because her name is Paula!

Listen to the interview as a podcast.

Fall Janes ‘05, sans Julee Waldrop and Terri Bennett (who took the photo):