Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Marshmallows and Marathons

My new job is such that I can turn out good numbers while listening to music, plotting running routes in my head, or finally catching up, after over a year, with podcasts of This American Life and Radiolab.



This morning, one of the Radiolab podcasts was called "Mischel's Marshmallows," and it told the story of a psychological experiment interesting not only in its scope, but its results. I don't want to spoil the story, but in short, this study started with some kids left alone in a room with something tempting like marshmallows, or, more effectively, I would think, Oreos. It tested the ability to delay gratification, a skill that supposedly starts improving at around age four. Where it gets interesting is when they revisited these same kids a decade later, and found dramatic and undoubtedly nonspurious correlations to SAT scores, GPA, and behavior.



So, I'm listening to this, as I hope you will (it's only 15 minutes long), and I was excited because it actually feeds into one of the main reasons I enjoy coaching and feel that running is good for us.



The kids in the experiment all suffered horribly from the temptation of the Oreos. Some kids, though, naturally used strategies to either dissociate or associate from the stimulus - they would distract themselves by making up a song, the boys would sit there and kick the table, or they would mentally put a picture frame around the the yummy, delectable sandwich cookies. These are the kids that did well, then and later in life.



The other kids could be taught tricks to help them delay gratification, and it would help them become "high delayers". Unfortunately, teaching a kid tricks to keep themselves from eating a cookie in a room isn't going to translate to every day, lifelong strategies, right?



In comes running. The doing of running, even showing up to do it, requires discipline, self sacrifice, delayed gratification. I've seen the varieties of those kids in the adults that show up in our group wanting to run a half marathon and marathon, and their success is obviously tied to their discipline and their ability to push themselves into discomfort or inconvenience. But I have alos seen people learn these skills in training. They take little steps, day by day, just getting that day's run in. They are encouraged by their teammates who are doing it with them, and they are boosted by the amazement and approval of their families and friends. Eventually, they find something within them that drives that effort to deny their own comfort and convenience, because they know there's something of value in it.



And while it may be a bit idealistic or megalomanical, I believe that something like running, more than yoga, more than basketball, requires so much repetition and commitment that it really reinforces those better qualities in us, perhaps enough that we carry those same stronger virtues into the rest of our lives. So, really, here's my grand evil plan - I want us to be better runners, but I want us to be even better people.



So, please, listen to the podcast, and give it some thought - what are your strategies for delaying your own gratificaiton, and staying committed? And what is your payoff - why are you doing this? Feel free to comment...

Monday, October 11, 2010

The Nerdy Essay On Hills

Working with the Austin Marathon and Half Marathon, I've heard a lot of whining about the hills on our courses, mostly from wussy flatlanders from places like "Dallas" or "Houston", which are clearly lame, in addition to being flat. I also hear some occasional whining from people about the hills we run on our long runs. In response, I usually challenge them to construct any route longer than seven or eight miles that has no hills, and doesn't involve running back and forth across a parking lot.

The thing is, you're better for running hills, whether your goal race is hilly or not. Arthur Lydiard, arguably the greatest running coach of all time, realized it, ran his runners on crazy hills in New Zealand, and brought hardcore hill training to the coaching world. So, blame him, not me.

Personally, I like hills. Living, biking, and later, running here in Austin, there was no choice, so I decided that if I could be a good hill runner, that would give me an advantage over other people in my quest to join the lower middle of the distance-running pack. Hills can build strength and stamina pretty quickly, and you can do better than a lot of other people simply through proper form and some knowledge.

I should also point out that I am a tremendous geek, and when I'm running, I'm thinking through all this stuff, and how best to try to explain it. So... here ya go.

Running Uphill
It helps to think about the physics of hill running, which starts with some geometry. Think about the geometry of your body in relation to the ground - you've got a triangle formed by: the imaginary line from the top of your head intersecting the ground at a 90 degree angle (side A); the line along the ground from there to your front foot (side B), and the line from that point back to the top of your head, which is the triangle's hypotenuse (side C).

Now, think also about the vector of gravity's pull... on a hill, it's not perpendicular to the ground, right? It's straight to the center of the earth (let's stick with Newtonian physics and ignore more recent modifications of it). Hence the suckiness or coolness of running up, or down, a hill.

Ideally, on a hill, you maintain the same upright, hips under you form as you do when you're on flat ground. Of course, your ability to do that depends on the steepness of the hill.

So, once a hill hits a certain level of steepness, the geometry of our bodies makes it impractical to stay perpendicular to the ground, because you'd fall back on your butt. So, we increase forward lean. This makes Side A, in front of our bodies (top of the head, perpendicular to the ground) shorter, and lengthens the hypotenuse, which is from the top of your head to the foot pushing through the strike behind you. Because of the way our legs bend, and because of the way we're best able to exert force for maximum traction and power, the lean forward makes sense.

The big problem is that most people get their lean by bending at the waist. First of all, as we've talked about on flat ground, this angle between the hips and leg is biomechanically inefficient.

Next, the butt starts falling out behind you, changing your center of gravity, and distorting the geometry of your body. Once that happens, people tend to hunker their shoulders, which is often also a result of people dropping their heads down.

The result - an inefficient, tiring, difficult-to-breathe, and not-attractive running posture. No bueno.

The answer is in your hips, shoulders, and head. Keep your head up - be looking at the next point on the hill that you're aiming for. Keep your shoulders relaxed, but back, allowing a good, unobstructed flow of air. Finally, keep your hips under you. On steeper hills, it helps me to imagine pressing my hips forward into the hill.

Move your arms. Their relation to the body will change on hills - they'll be moving a bit more in front of your shoulders, but still not crossing the front of your body. When your legs are failing a bit, focus on moving the arms, and the legs will follow.

A lot of people just strike with the foot and lift straight up. On hills in particular, they're missing out on a huge bit of strength, just in your foot and calves. So, strike, and roll all the way so that when you're taking off, it's off the front tip of your shoes.

Finally, break the hill into manageable chunks. Find a landmark, and just focus on getting to it, then pick another and get to it. If you try to look up the 8th street alley, or some of the other hills we'll be running, you'll end up trying to find a tree and a bit of rope to hang yourself.

Running Downhill
The general rule is that uphills and headwinds are harder than downhills and tailwinds are easy. But make no mistake, downhills run properly and patiently can give you a good deal of time back. However, they can also wreck your legs in a longer race.

On the downhills, the temptation is to lean back and let gravity carry you. This is actually not good.

Think back to the geometry thing. When you lean back, you feel more in control because the hypotenuse is intersecting the ground at an angle that matches the vector of gravity's pull - in other words, you don't feel like you're going to fall on your face. The problem is, leaning back also stretches that hypotenuse out - to connect with the ground on each stride, your body has to get longer in front of you. To accomplish this, two things usually happen. First, you lengthen the front part of your stride by stretching the leg out, straightening the knee out and striking on your heel. Because you're also shortening side A of your triangle (the imaginary back line), and lengthening side B (the bottom), gravity gets to accelerate you a bit longer on each stride, resulting in higher speed and greater impact.

Bottom line - bad for your knees, ankles, hips, spine... hell, everything. It even makes my teeth hurt.

Meanwhile, if you're also trying to move your feet faster over a longer distance (side B), you might actually be working harder and getting your heart rate higher than when you're on flat ground. Also dumb.

The answer is to run downhill with the same form and angle as you run on flat ground, and uphill. When you do it, you're going to feel like you're falling forward. This is why you want strong quadriceps muscles, and a quicker, but not too quick turnover. This is a matter of just getting the right feel running downhill.

I try to get to a point of turnover where I'm still striking midfoot, but immediately rolling forward and through the strike. There's a split second between the initial strike of the foot, and the point at which your shoes and joints compress, and you get the sudden, sharpest moment of impact. That's what you need to minimize. Rolling forward immediately helps dissipate some of that energy.

The cautionary warning here is that on a long, very hilly course, like the Austin Marathon and Half Marathon, slowing yourself too much will wear out your quads and increase the odds of them cramping up later... So, it can be a fine line.

Everyone wants to bank time running downhill. But even if you're being conservative and patient, you're just gonna pick up some speed. Side B of your triangle (the travel along the ground) is going to naturally lengthen a bit when you factor in that you're still falling downhill a little, making each stride, even at the same cadence, cover a little more ground.

More importantly, managing a downhill gives you a chance to recover. In the Capitol 10K, or the Austin Marathon or Half Marathon, managing the course is everything, and will make or break your day.

So, that's a lot to absorb, I know. The point here is to think about the physics and form involved in running hills. Stay conscious of them, remember the few rules about form, keep working on building strength and stamina, and you'll be kicking butt on the hills in no time.