So, I just want to talk about Saturday's run, and just what the hell all that was about. This is a little rough because, you know, I'm supposed to be working right now, but try to bear with me...
To some extent, this was one of the few runs that I wanted to do out of a sense of nostalgia, not just for my own memories of running it in some previous running life, but for the memories of the area I grew up in. I don't cherish everything about my Westlake years, but the chunk of the run to the northeast of Bee Caves covers the territory that contains a lot of the people and things I did appreciate about Westlake - the older, less... Westlakey neighborhoods, the quiet, the views, and yes, the hills. We ran within sight of the house I lived in for over a decade and a half, and I was riding up the hills to my friend's house on Terrace Mountain over 20 years ago (so I don't feel anyone has any superior claim to them).
Still, as you all saw, it's also a potentially dangerous run, and a pretty intensely difficult one. I was confident in everyone's ability to knock it out, though, and everyone, to some extent, did.
If you had a rough time, didn't finish, hated how long it took you, or felt horrible during or after the run,
you really need to not despair. This was an unnecessarily difficult run, period. Yes, there is a tremendous benefit to training on hills, but this run is extreme. On top of that, you ran it in difficult conditions, in that stifling humidity.
But I really wanted us to run this, so much so that, last night, fifteen weeks into this training, I pulled out my biggest and most irresponsible coaching mistake. I was determined to run it, Christina had committed herself to coming with me, and then I pressured Mandy and Jean into running it with us.
Ah, the vital piece of information here is that we didn't start until 6pm, from Whole Foods.
Clearly, I would never have done this with the group, or, no offense, with many of the individuals in it. But I've run a lot with these particular people, and I let myself and my desire to run the course get me too far out of the responsible mindset. We had extremely bright flashlights and specific instructions, but still, it was just a bad idea.
It was a pretty heinous run, in terms of traffic. The little bit of Stratford we weren't able to divert around was a bit nerve-wracking, and the short stretch on Redbud between the top of the hill and the convenience store was particularly scary.
Jean and Mandy had the sense to abort the run, turn around, and head back, still getting in a pretty decent run.
Christina was game to try to complete the run with me, so we did. The temperature dropped tremendously, and we were fairly numb for most of the time, especially up on Terrace Mountain.
So why the hell did I make you do it? Why was I so rabid about doing it myself that I was a bit irresponsible enough to drag Jean, Mandy, and Christina along on it last night, in the dark?
Carl Jung talks about the recurring theme in our mythologies of heroes leaving the familiar world, and spending time out in the social or physical margins of existence. Voluntary or not, it's what they have to do to get sort of freed of the secular and the mundane, face adversity, and end up learning stuff that makes them more complete.
To some extent, this run was your forty days in the desert, your time in the forest in "A Midsummer Night's Dream"... uhh... your time in medieval Japan ("Heroes", anyone?). I hope you all got a sense of the quiet up there, got glimpses of how far away the city was, and maybe caught some glimpses of deer doing their deer thing. I have to say, it was all incredibly beautiful in the dark last night.
I felt it was an important run to put everything in perspective, because it imposed a bit more adversity on us than we're used to, and how we deal with adversity is important for our confidence. If you got through the run OK, then you should have a good sense for how tough you are, and what you're capable of. And if you didn't get through it OK, then you are in a position to choose to put the bad run in perspective, a skill you need to have as a runner, and no doubt as an individual.
Those of you that ran 10 on this course should now know that you can absolutely run a half marathon - not just barely get there, but really run it.
The marathoners that ran 16 on this course don't necessarily get the certainty of being able to add 10 more, but I expect you'll be unimpressed with 18 next week. After that, you get 20 miles, and will really know that you're in striking distance of slaying the marathon dragon.
If you had a hard time, or it shook your faith, then that's just as good for you. First, you need to question your training - have you been keeping up with your runs? Have you been making the weekday workouts where you get to really build your strength? Is there something you feel you're not getting from the training, the schedule, or to be fair, from me?
After that bit of questioning, you really need to appreciate the run for the unreasonably difficult one it is. Think back on it, and you'll find there's the big picture - involving the course, whether you were in proper condition for it, and the attitude with which you approached it - and you'll find there were also a number of smaller choices you were faced with along the way when confronted with difficulty. You need to appreciate the times you chose to push through, and identify what it was about the times you chose to let up or stop. There might be very good reasons for those choices. And with the benefit of hindsight, you might find you handle some of the choices differently next time.
What's important about this route is that it was not so much about the mileage, or the effectiveness of training in the hills, but more about exercising your will. It is very easy to go out there and plod through the miles, letting them have their way with you. But that's running without a heart or sense of will, and that's how you get beaten down psychologically.
I think it's better to accept the difficulty and choose to impose your will on the miles, and the route, and the hills. We are at the distances now where the runs become more and more a matter of will, and your ability to make those choices about how you face what gets thrown at during them.
This may be by far the hardest route we run in training, but it is not necessarily going to be the hardest day you have in your running life. But when you find yourself back at those moments of doubt, you're going to be able to go back to this run, and the fact that you finished and felt strong, or maybe that you barely got through, or even that you only succeeded in some moments of it and not others. Today's victories will give you the hope and confidence to fight the future battles that you are inevitably going to face. And, I don't think this reasoning only applies to running.
Daniel and I were talking as he finished his celebratory post-run cigarette Saturday morning (I'm not even going to get into that right now). He's run four marathons, I think. We talked about how empowering it is to run these distances, and how you start thinking...
"If I can do this, why am I living the rest of my life the way I
am?"
"I can run 13 miles, I can commit to training in any conditions for six
months to do it, so why am I working so hard at a job I hate?"
"I can feel how real and powerful my will is, pushing me through the hard
workouts, and through the wall at 22 miles, so why am I living without
passion?"
I know, I know, I'm being preachy - more of it will come in the next couple of months. Sorry. Running doesn't have to be all serious and tied in with the rest of our lives. It can and should be a thing unto itself. But I believe the sort of Zen concept that we should be focused and practice things for their own sake, and in doing that, we find principles and gain perspectives that apply elsewhere.
The movie we're watching Thursday night has a line that I'm not sure is an actual quote from Bill Bowerman or not, but still:
“Running, one might say, is an absurd pastime upon which to be exhausting ourselves. But if you can find meaning in the kind of running required of you to stay on this team, perhaps you’ll find meaning in another absurd pastime: life."
