My viewpoints in this blog don't take into consideration the other reasons why people run. All I'm concerned with is achieving a very high standard of running and improvement thereafter. Many people might think that I don't enjoy running for the sake of it. I do and that's why I compete, because I want to take my running to the highest level I possibly can. I find real joy in beating people and in seeing my times get faster and faster. I love the feeling of running with my amazing teammates and gradually find myself really running with them in a challenging work-out. It's an incredible feeling of achievement.
This blog isn't about the thousands of people who run for charity, nor
the people who run for fitness, nor is it about the people who train for
a marathon just to say that they've completed one. If they want to read
my blog, GREAT! They'll gain another runner's perspective on the sport and maybe one day, some of them might want to compete too.
I'm taking the Pearl Izumi approach and being unapologetic about my opinions. Go ahead, and "run like an animal." I admire their spirit: If I want to run, I should run with all my heart; If I want to be fast, I have to push myself to new limits...
My attitude isn't elitist; I'm still trying to claw my way up to being a fast runner. But...this is a competitive runner's blog and I am expressing my feelings about my personal performance, my effort in daily training runs...my sport. If some people reading this blog have a problem with the way I feel about running, then they don't have to read it. Quite frankly, they don't understand how I feel.
I will not apologise for my viewpoints about running. You don't have to agree with everything I say, but please...don't tell me how I'm supposed to feel or that I need an attitude adjustment. It's not for you to decide.
Showing posts with label competitive running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label competitive running. Show all posts
7.9.11
6.9.11
The Failed Hunt
4.9.11, 9:00 a.m.: My Garmin 110 is set. I ran at least a mile warm-up before the start and had 8 minutes to shake out any last minute anxiety. I chomped on a handful of Mini-wheats before I left for the Tavern to Tavern 5k...
Last Sunday, at 9:00 a.m., the dinner bell rang in Central Square. And we started the hunt for any rival runner within our sight (and, of course, for personal victory). My plan was to run hard after a sedate first mile clocking in somewhere between 8:30 and 8:50. So, I targeted 2 people who were running at this pace. I kept close to them but let them go when they sped up. "I'll see them later," I thought. Even if I didn't see them later in the race, I wanted to maintain a certain pace for the first mile before I increased speed in the second and third. I wasn't going to let anyone force me to tire out early.
And then...I don't know what happened. It happened after the first mile, which I ran in 8:49. All those thoughts...came so fast, I didn't know what was going on with my head. My goal for the first mile was met...so, what the hell was my problem? I felt mediocre. I felt like I couldn't finish in the time I set for myself, not because of any lack of fitness to run it. I was fit enough to run an 8:49 pace for the first mile without it feeling like it was taxing me, but I just had that overwhelming sense of, "What if...?"
I sat on some steps and put my head in my hands. I looked around twice to see if I felt like I could salvage my race at all. But at that point, in my mind, just finishing was as bad as DNFing. I don't run to just finish anymore. As a matter of fact, even when I didn't run competitively in an official way, I still never ran to just finish. I was always pushing myself to beat the people near me. But back then, I was alright with a 9 minute pace and would have been elated to run a 5k at 8:49 pace.
Now, it's different. An 8:49 pace for me, is what I consider a baseline that my coach and I can work with to become a much stronger and faster athlete. Yes, athlete. Not just any runner anymore.
Anyway, I couldn't believe I was just giving up like that. But it happened. I kept analysing why. I could chalk it up to feeling nervous about not using the Port-A-John before the race, or the fact that I didn't feel like I had warmed-up enough because I had arrived too late which sent me into a tizzy all throughout the check-in process. But these are all excuses...
The real issue lies with me. I need to train like I'm supposed to: log the weekly mileage that my body can handle for the next 3 weeks - 30 miles (before increasing it to 40 and so on), sleep on time (10 p.m.) and get enough nutrition. And just as importantly, I need to learn to compete without analysing myself and just do it, as my coach told me after he heard about what happened, "DON'T THINK. JUST DO IT." He told me, "Analyse yourself after the race, not during."
I may have to incorporate this "no thinking" into my daily training runs so that I can do it in races. Be a machine and JUST DO IT.
Last Sunday, at 9:00 a.m., the dinner bell rang in Central Square. And we started the hunt for any rival runner within our sight (and, of course, for personal victory). My plan was to run hard after a sedate first mile clocking in somewhere between 8:30 and 8:50. So, I targeted 2 people who were running at this pace. I kept close to them but let them go when they sped up. "I'll see them later," I thought. Even if I didn't see them later in the race, I wanted to maintain a certain pace for the first mile before I increased speed in the second and third. I wasn't going to let anyone force me to tire out early.
And then...I don't know what happened. It happened after the first mile, which I ran in 8:49. All those thoughts...came so fast, I didn't know what was going on with my head. My goal for the first mile was met...so, what the hell was my problem? I felt mediocre. I felt like I couldn't finish in the time I set for myself, not because of any lack of fitness to run it. I was fit enough to run an 8:49 pace for the first mile without it feeling like it was taxing me, but I just had that overwhelming sense of, "What if...?"
I sat on some steps and put my head in my hands. I looked around twice to see if I felt like I could salvage my race at all. But at that point, in my mind, just finishing was as bad as DNFing. I don't run to just finish anymore. As a matter of fact, even when I didn't run competitively in an official way, I still never ran to just finish. I was always pushing myself to beat the people near me. But back then, I was alright with a 9 minute pace and would have been elated to run a 5k at 8:49 pace.
Now, it's different. An 8:49 pace for me, is what I consider a baseline that my coach and I can work with to become a much stronger and faster athlete. Yes, athlete. Not just any runner anymore.
Anyway, I couldn't believe I was just giving up like that. But it happened. I kept analysing why. I could chalk it up to feeling nervous about not using the Port-A-John before the race, or the fact that I didn't feel like I had warmed-up enough because I had arrived too late which sent me into a tizzy all throughout the check-in process. But these are all excuses...
The real issue lies with me. I need to train like I'm supposed to: log the weekly mileage that my body can handle for the next 3 weeks - 30 miles (before increasing it to 40 and so on), sleep on time (10 p.m.) and get enough nutrition. And just as importantly, I need to learn to compete without analysing myself and just do it, as my coach told me after he heard about what happened, "DON'T THINK. JUST DO IT." He told me, "Analyse yourself after the race, not during."
I may have to incorporate this "no thinking" into my daily training runs so that I can do it in races. Be a machine and JUST DO IT.
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