Saturday was a 20 mile run. I did it in 2:56. My average heart rate was 142, which is 68% of my max, and I burned 3000 calories. Runners love information like this in the same way serious baseball fans love stats. I love information like this because the last number means the Cold Stone ice cream I ate an hour after finishing the run might not do as much damage.
There is something about finishing this particular training run that represents a major breakthrough for me after about four years away from running in a serious way. In spite of the fact that last week I did 19, breaking the 20 mile barrier means something different. I am only six miles under the marathon distance now, six very long and difficult miles, but it is less than seven, ten or twelve, which gives me great comfort. Six is a nice tidy number I can do business with.
I ran the first 15 with a friend, Sandy, and this made a huge difference. Running has always been in-part about relationships and community for me. On one level, running is a very individualized sport, but running with others is a great way to build meaningful relationships, and most runners will tell you that part of the fun of running is the people. Most runners will also agree that on long runs it is a lot easier to make it when you have company, whether you are talking or not. It may be the joint suffering, or a great conversation about motivation, God, family, or some present difficulty in life, but there is something about being with someone else that helps you get through the tough final miles of a long run.
Sandy dropped off at 15. My right IT band was starting to complain, and I was out of water. The pain began. At this point, though, the physical problems started to take a back seat to the psychological ones. The run became a mental battle. One challenge was that I became obsessed with how fast I was going and a maddening desire to finish with a specific time blossomed in my mind. Time is normally not my concern at all, and I had to really focus on the fact that finishing was my primary goal, and not getting hurt was my secondary goal. Speeding up at this point just because my ego wanted to finish at a certain time could blow up both the primary and secondary goals. I had to make a concentrated effort to stop looking at my GPS, which has a four quadrant display; total time; heart rate; current pace; and current distance. TMI for me in the last five miles. I had to fight the urge to stop. I had to tell myself I could finish.
In order to avoid looking at my GPS, I began to consider how life is an individual and communal experience, and how we live our psychological, spiritual, and physical lives as individuals and members of different communities. We fight our battles in all three domains. We fight them together and on our own. We don’t have to, and shouldn’t try, to fight them entirely by ourselves, but there is also something to be said for the fact that it is in our individual mind that we make decisions about who we are and want to be. It is in our minds that we decide to love ourselves even if we are in pain or have made choices we regret. It is in community that we decide to open ourselves up and let others into the pain.
Life is a balance between the two.
I finished and broke through something I needed to break through. I did it both in community and on my own. In two weeks I have to do 20 again, but next time the psychological battle will hopefully not be as difficult. Maybe it will, but I know I can stop myself from looking at the GPS and that the people around me in my community support the effort. Sandy is not training for anything, so running 15 by my side was simply a gift to me. It is in the last five miles that the gift of community can strengthen your individual psychology and make all the difference.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Imagination and Memory
I looked at the marathon schedule last week and realized that the mileage was now getting serious.
Saturday had me down for 19 miles. I had not run that far in a few years, and in spite of having done a great deal of PT and the gradual build-up using the Hal Higdon Intermediate Plan, I was nervous. I am not competitive in terms of running fast, but always want to finish, and imagined myself getting to about 15 and folding up like a cheap piece of lawn furniture.
I took my rest day Friday, and that night ate a small piece of salmon, some rice, salad, and water. So far so good. I got to bed early. Okay, on target. Then I woke up at 1:00am, 3:00am, and 4:00am. Great. Sabotaged by my screwed-up sleep cycle. For a moment I thought of switching the 19 out to the next day in hopes of a better night’s sleep. Discouragement, I told myself, is the easy way out. I got up, filled my fuel belt, had some coffee, and headed to the lake. You train to go with what you get dealt that day. Training is experiencing all the things that can go right and all the things that can go wrong.
On marathon day you might have only gotten a couple hours’ sleep. On race day it might be broiling hot or freezing cold. One year it was around 80 degrees at the start of the Boston Marathon, and another year a full blown North Atlantic Nightmare storm rolled in.
Regardless of the endeavor, whether it is our family, job, friendships, school, or hobbies and interests, we are not well served by staying home or shutting down because all the conditions don’t meet with our specific requirements or comprise the best-case, most safe scenario.
On the days where we want to stay home, like I did when faced with the prospect of running 19 miles on little sleep, we can use our memory and imagination to see ourselves doing the one thing that seems impossible to us at the time.
We can remember ourselves being kind and patient with our children and pull that memory into the present to serve as a mental model that will get us through a tough encounter. We can imagine ourselves focusing on the most important priority at work and actually getting it done. We can see ourselves repairing a broken relationship and believe we can do it by remembering when we have done it before. We can remember the times God was there for us in the past, even if there is nothing but silence now.
As we grow older we can drift away from using our imagination and memory. The work world often talks a lot about innovation and creativity, but if you told your boss you were going to spend a couple days imagining what innovation might look like, I am not sure what the reaction would be. We are to produce, and imagination does not often count as production. We must regain our imagination by putting it into practice in simple ways. We do not have to be George Lucas (even though that would be really cool).
The weather last Saturday was perfect. For a runner, perfect usually means somewhere in the mid 50s- low 60’s, and for some reason in Omaha in mid-August, that is exactly what I got. When I started running I decided to imagine myself finishing, regardless of how tired I was. I imagined my GPS turning from 18.99 to 19.00. I imagined going into Lifetime and taking a shower. I remembered the times I had run that far before. I remembered that I could do it.
My legs started to hurt at about mile 15, and for a brief moment I imagined the crumpled lawn furniture, but then a quote came to me out of nowhere, from the great A.C. Green of the 80s LA Lakers: “Tough times don’t last, but tough people do.”
I don’t know if I am tough or not, but I finished. This week is 20 miles. I can imagine it will be tough.
Saturday had me down for 19 miles. I had not run that far in a few years, and in spite of having done a great deal of PT and the gradual build-up using the Hal Higdon Intermediate Plan, I was nervous. I am not competitive in terms of running fast, but always want to finish, and imagined myself getting to about 15 and folding up like a cheap piece of lawn furniture.
I took my rest day Friday, and that night ate a small piece of salmon, some rice, salad, and water. So far so good. I got to bed early. Okay, on target. Then I woke up at 1:00am, 3:00am, and 4:00am. Great. Sabotaged by my screwed-up sleep cycle. For a moment I thought of switching the 19 out to the next day in hopes of a better night’s sleep. Discouragement, I told myself, is the easy way out. I got up, filled my fuel belt, had some coffee, and headed to the lake. You train to go with what you get dealt that day. Training is experiencing all the things that can go right and all the things that can go wrong.
On marathon day you might have only gotten a couple hours’ sleep. On race day it might be broiling hot or freezing cold. One year it was around 80 degrees at the start of the Boston Marathon, and another year a full blown North Atlantic Nightmare storm rolled in.
Regardless of the endeavor, whether it is our family, job, friendships, school, or hobbies and interests, we are not well served by staying home or shutting down because all the conditions don’t meet with our specific requirements or comprise the best-case, most safe scenario.
On the days where we want to stay home, like I did when faced with the prospect of running 19 miles on little sleep, we can use our memory and imagination to see ourselves doing the one thing that seems impossible to us at the time.
We can remember ourselves being kind and patient with our children and pull that memory into the present to serve as a mental model that will get us through a tough encounter. We can imagine ourselves focusing on the most important priority at work and actually getting it done. We can see ourselves repairing a broken relationship and believe we can do it by remembering when we have done it before. We can remember the times God was there for us in the past, even if there is nothing but silence now.
As we grow older we can drift away from using our imagination and memory. The work world often talks a lot about innovation and creativity, but if you told your boss you were going to spend a couple days imagining what innovation might look like, I am not sure what the reaction would be. We are to produce, and imagination does not often count as production. We must regain our imagination by putting it into practice in simple ways. We do not have to be George Lucas (even though that would be really cool).
The weather last Saturday was perfect. For a runner, perfect usually means somewhere in the mid 50s- low 60’s, and for some reason in Omaha in mid-August, that is exactly what I got. When I started running I decided to imagine myself finishing, regardless of how tired I was. I imagined my GPS turning from 18.99 to 19.00. I imagined going into Lifetime and taking a shower. I remembered the times I had run that far before. I remembered that I could do it.
My legs started to hurt at about mile 15, and for a brief moment I imagined the crumpled lawn furniture, but then a quote came to me out of nowhere, from the great A.C. Green of the 80s LA Lakers: “Tough times don’t last, but tough people do.”
I don’t know if I am tough or not, but I finished. This week is 20 miles. I can imagine it will be tough.
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