Glory Days
In less than six weeks, I'll lace up the shoes for marathon #9 in Washington, DC for the Marine Corps Marathon. I've been looking to this race now for several months, and have had decent, but not great training so far. When I have had poor runs, it is because of weakness between my ears more so than weakness in my legs. I write this now as much for myself as it is for the reader. For most of my "un-illustrious" career as a runner the one thing that I had in spades was mental toughness. Not so this time around. Perhaps it is a lack of confidence because I haven't run one in over four years now. Perhaps it is a factor of experience, and I can't approach it with the blissful ignorance I did many years ago. Perhaps it is age, and the creeping reality that I'm not as fast or as strong as I used to be. Golfers as they hit their forties are well known for getting "the yips." The four foot putt for par that used to be routine years earlier suddenly gets more difficult. Can runners get "the yips?" Perhaps they can and that's what I have experienced.
Lots of people walk onto a basketball court, football field, or ball diamond and remember the "glory days?" They remember the shots they made, the game saving tackle, the clutch base hit. At the same time, they are aware that their days of glory on the court or on the field are long gone. I confess that I was never much of an athlete, so there isn't much of the "glory days." I did play football in high school, but was never a starter. Basketball- are you kidding? There's not much need for short, slow guys who's verticle leap could be measured with a ruler instead of a tape measure. A few years after high school and college I started running, and completed my first marathon in 1993. Since then I've run eight of them, most recently in 2015 in Charleston. I haven't run many races since then, just a handful of 5K's. In training for this year's Marine Corps Marathon, I have found myself too frequently in the mindset of the person walking back onto the field one more time after many years away. It hasn't clicked until very recently, that this isn't an old guy reminiscing about the "glory days." This is the "glory days." I did let myself get a little out of shape, but I never totally left the field/court, which for me is the lonely highway.
If given the chance, I could probably do a pretty good job coaching somebody else through the challenges of the marathon. It's very hard to coach oneself, however, but I'm going to try to anyway. Most importantly, any athlete (even including a slow long-distance runner) has to embrace the process over the result. Numerous great coaches preach this- Dean Smith did, Roy Williams a Smith disciple does, Nick Saban does. Get the process right and the results take care of themselves. Applied to the marathon, let race day take care of itself. Until then it's each day. Put in the work, listen to your legs, take the occasional rest day for recovery. Next, I need to embrace a mantra, some saying to help when things get tough. I've used many in my running life. At times they've been Biblical such "because He is strong in power not one faileth" or "and in those days even the youths shall fail, and the young men shall utterly fall, but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall rise up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not faint," both from Isaiah 40. "Heart of a lion, eye of the tiger" is another. It's been verses from songs/hymns at other times. The runner (in this case me) should use one in training so it is there to draw upon when the miles are getting longer on race day. I know that I need to be very present and aware, to be running frequent "diagnostic checks" on myself. What's feeling good, what's getting sore, what's chafing or blistering? I also know that it is just as important to lose myself in the run at times. In other sports this may be called being "in the zone." The capacity to lose oneself for a time, to have your mind wander into all sorts of different avenues, can enable the miles to pass more quickly.
I have allowed fear to creep in at times during runs and in the time beforehand. Doubts have reared their ugly heads at times during long runs, each time robbing me of potential. The right mindset doesn't make a slow runner fast, but the wrong mindset can make a fast runner slow. The wrong frame of mind prevents one from pushing hard. Without pushing hard through pain, through fatigue, through hills that get seem to get longer and longer, confidence can't develop. For now, the most important battle I must face is with the proverbial man in the mirror. Race day will come. I can hope for 40 degrees, with no wind and low humidity, but I can't control that. I can't control the myriad things that can go wrong on race day. The one thing I can control is getting to the starting line healthy, well-trained, and rested. That is all that matters.
The U.S. Marines (who sponsor and organize this marathon) have a slogan or saying that goes something like this: "Not as lean, not as mean, but always a marine." I've never served in the corps, but I don't suppose that they'll mind if I adopt a version of that for myself. On my best day now I'm not as fast as I used to be. Father time is undefeated after all. Although I'm not as fast as I used to be, but I am convinced that even now, a little north of fifty years old, I can be as tough as I ever was. Early in his ministry John Wesley was given great advice from a wise Moravian man, "preach faith until you have it." Every time doubt or fear begins to slink in to my psyche, I need to vanquish them with the reminder that I am the toughest runner there is. I may not actually be the toughest runner, but I'll tell myself that until I get as tough as I need to be.
Lots of people walk onto a basketball court, football field, or ball diamond and remember the "glory days?" They remember the shots they made, the game saving tackle, the clutch base hit. At the same time, they are aware that their days of glory on the court or on the field are long gone. I confess that I was never much of an athlete, so there isn't much of the "glory days." I did play football in high school, but was never a starter. Basketball- are you kidding? There's not much need for short, slow guys who's verticle leap could be measured with a ruler instead of a tape measure. A few years after high school and college I started running, and completed my first marathon in 1993. Since then I've run eight of them, most recently in 2015 in Charleston. I haven't run many races since then, just a handful of 5K's. In training for this year's Marine Corps Marathon, I have found myself too frequently in the mindset of the person walking back onto the field one more time after many years away. It hasn't clicked until very recently, that this isn't an old guy reminiscing about the "glory days." This is the "glory days." I did let myself get a little out of shape, but I never totally left the field/court, which for me is the lonely highway.
If given the chance, I could probably do a pretty good job coaching somebody else through the challenges of the marathon. It's very hard to coach oneself, however, but I'm going to try to anyway. Most importantly, any athlete (even including a slow long-distance runner) has to embrace the process over the result. Numerous great coaches preach this- Dean Smith did, Roy Williams a Smith disciple does, Nick Saban does. Get the process right and the results take care of themselves. Applied to the marathon, let race day take care of itself. Until then it's each day. Put in the work, listen to your legs, take the occasional rest day for recovery. Next, I need to embrace a mantra, some saying to help when things get tough. I've used many in my running life. At times they've been Biblical such "because He is strong in power not one faileth" or "and in those days even the youths shall fail, and the young men shall utterly fall, but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall rise up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not faint," both from Isaiah 40. "Heart of a lion, eye of the tiger" is another. It's been verses from songs/hymns at other times. The runner (in this case me) should use one in training so it is there to draw upon when the miles are getting longer on race day. I know that I need to be very present and aware, to be running frequent "diagnostic checks" on myself. What's feeling good, what's getting sore, what's chafing or blistering? I also know that it is just as important to lose myself in the run at times. In other sports this may be called being "in the zone." The capacity to lose oneself for a time, to have your mind wander into all sorts of different avenues, can enable the miles to pass more quickly.
I have allowed fear to creep in at times during runs and in the time beforehand. Doubts have reared their ugly heads at times during long runs, each time robbing me of potential. The right mindset doesn't make a slow runner fast, but the wrong mindset can make a fast runner slow. The wrong frame of mind prevents one from pushing hard. Without pushing hard through pain, through fatigue, through hills that get seem to get longer and longer, confidence can't develop. For now, the most important battle I must face is with the proverbial man in the mirror. Race day will come. I can hope for 40 degrees, with no wind and low humidity, but I can't control that. I can't control the myriad things that can go wrong on race day. The one thing I can control is getting to the starting line healthy, well-trained, and rested. That is all that matters.
The U.S. Marines (who sponsor and organize this marathon) have a slogan or saying that goes something like this: "Not as lean, not as mean, but always a marine." I've never served in the corps, but I don't suppose that they'll mind if I adopt a version of that for myself. On my best day now I'm not as fast as I used to be. Father time is undefeated after all. Although I'm not as fast as I used to be, but I am convinced that even now, a little north of fifty years old, I can be as tough as I ever was. Early in his ministry John Wesley was given great advice from a wise Moravian man, "preach faith until you have it." Every time doubt or fear begins to slink in to my psyche, I need to vanquish them with the reminder that I am the toughest runner there is. I may not actually be the toughest runner, but I'll tell myself that until I get as tough as I need to be.
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