Run Thoughts - #01: Using your gear & Growth through struggle

Ian’s friend had the suggestion of a podcast just talking about the things runners ramble about during runs. I really loved the suggestion, but I tend to have a face for radio and a voice for newspaper, so while I may not end up on a podcast you can hopefully get a kick out of this too.

**This is a different format than the newsletters I’ve been doing. It’s much more informal (impressive given the informal nature of the newsletters already), and more of a rant and jumble of ideas I’m trying to form a cohesive message with. If that’s your thing, or you want to get a laugh at my paragraph structure, then please enjoy with hot chocolate or an Irish coffee.

Pre Run Thoughts:

Tuesday morning, amidst a nice cold spell, has us at 3° and -10° real feel for a 7:30 am run. Quite exciting stuff. I kept trying to think of gear to wear last night into this morning and was drawing some blanks. A fleece over long-sleeve merino baselayer? A light fleece as a base layer and a windbreaker on top? An ultralight fleece as a baselayer and a light fleece on top? A short-sleeved merino baselayer under an ultralight fleece with a windbreaker on top? A waterproof jacket with a long-sleeved merino baselayer? I don’t know how realistic this is or if others also have similar qualms the night before an easy run. Honestly, I don’t know many people with more gear than me, especially gear that fits the same roles as something else. A good problem to have and no doubt I am my father’s son; seriously there is so much fishing, hunting, and woodworking gear at my mom’s house that is kind of super redundant. At the very least we could open a hardware/outdoor store in the end times.

However, at 5:47 am I had a revelation; what about that Patagonia Nano Air Light Hybrid Jacket I got in December for negative-degree temps? “But that might be too warm,” I said to myself. “What if it’s too warm? I might get sweaty and cold.” SO WHAT! This is maybe the coldest it’ll be for the rest of the year (maybe the rest of our lifetimes if you want to have a pessimistic view on the current state of climate change/policies like I do) and I have a chance to use a new piece of gear that might work out okay. I’m healthy and enjoying training for the first time in a while and I get to use new gear. That’s about as good as it gets in life next to things like marriage, the birth of a child, not getting a tummy ache after a pint of ice cream, and college graduation; all things I can only assume are awesome and have yet to experience.

In college, one of my older and wiser teammates tried to instill a saying that we “get” to train versus “having” to train. A slight change in wording, but the idea was that training is a choice you make every time you go out and commit to being better each day; not something that a middle-aged coach forces you to do. While I did like it in the moment, it’s one of those things that I know I overthink and don’t love explaining. A lot of people have the drive to do great things and don’t need another chest-pounding mantra to add to a laundry list of stress fractures. I know now that I tend to take my running too seriously, so I try not to subscribe to anything like that too much.

Along a similar line, my college coach asked us during the pandemic to think of a reason(s) we like training. A pretty standard encouragement line during the COVID cross-country months. Honestly, I could not think of anything, and I beat myself up about it a lot. So much so that I almost stopped running around then. Things like “I like how I feel doing hard things” or “The goal of a race/effort makes me excited and gives me a structure I enjoy” felt a little self-serving and hollow? I’d wager this is mostly a cage of my own design and just me being hard on myself for not finding anything groundbreaking as a super smart 19-year-old, because these ARE legitimate reasons for doing anything. Hindsight and all that. Anyway, the point I want to make; it doesn’t have to be something we take seriously 24/7. Life can be sad. Things don’t always work out like we want them to. You might have a love-hate relationship with a pint of ice cream. There are wrong answers to the best layering options. But those aren’t good enough reasons to not do things we enjoy.

Post Run Thoughts:

Yes, those are icicles. No, I will not confirm if they are snot.

Dare I say, very good? I went running with my friend Mo (full name Motorcycle; yes that’s a real name, no I won’t elaborate), up and down Mount Pleasant is always a great time with lots of good conversation topics. One thing we got into was the idea that a lot of activities aren’t life-and-death situations. For context, Mo runs a lot and is coming off a recent stellar 100-mile performance at Beast of the East, but also backpacks occasionally and has a weird Kirkland-border-collie that likes to drink out of mud puddles. Backpacking, while usually much slower than running, is quite a feat on its own for the sheer amount of gear you need to carry with you. With running, you tend to be moving faster, probably less difficult terrain, and are more likely to run into another person/car that can potentially lend a hand. With backpacking, you are in unpredictable mountain conditions, rough trails, and long climbs to make it really risky if you don’t make smart choices early on.

With these in mind, we agree there’s a perspective shift that comes with doing dangerous/risky/hard things (and also being smart enough to survive risky situations and hopefully learn from them). A similar topic I’ve talked about with Ian revolves around this idea too, and he likes to refer to this as an “internal governor.” Essentially, as we try and hike up those crazy 50% grades in the Adirondacks on less-than-ideal conditions with your backside just exposed to a gnarly tumble to the bottom, it can make Buttermilk or Treman seem less scary and foreboding in comparison. While not a 1:1 translation, I like to think it is similar to how consistent running and exercise improves performance even though it’s most likely something closer to a survival instinct.

To sum it up, I like the saying, “We’re creatures of habit” but I also want to add that while we may like habitual activities, we’re capable of growth to expand those activities too.

I’ll finish with a favorite quote of mine to highlight growth from the greatest running movie of all time, Without Limits (1998). Steve Prefontaine has just finished 4th at the 1972 Olympics after being caught in the last 20m by British runner Ian Stewart (spoiler, sorry) and gets a bit bummed out about running after that. Bill Bowerman confronts him at the local bar he’s working at and says the following, “Be thankful for your limits, Pre, they’re about as limitless as they get in this life.”