Leadville Training Saga - The Role of Gratitude
I have been asked how my training for the Leadville 100 is going quite a bit since I informed the world that I claimed a coveted position in the race. That's a fair question really...driving 100 miles takes awhile so I can see how people might be curious how preparing for 100 miles of trail running at high-altitude might be going. Let me just say this first before I go any further, I always try to keep my priorities straight.
That is, being the best human being I can be is my first priority.
No one would really argue the above statement and yet I think many runners have found themselves in the position of worrying too much about a performance at some point in their life. A few days ago I listened to an interesting podcast with Barefoot Ted (Ted McDonald) and he brought up several very interesting ideas about running. When the host of the podcast asked Barefoot Ted if barefoot running made you faster, Ted turned the question onto the host, when did we decide that the best part of running could be measured by time?
Listening to his conversation reminded me of how far I have come in my evolution of running. I had a long phase of life where I ran for a time goal...in high school I wanted to earn a scholarship and in college I needed to run quick enough to keep that scholarship. I relaxed my training after college but I still found myself too rigid about my race times. I ran a little for the Army and felt it was in my best interest to see how fast a road-marathoner I could be. For several years I chased a sub-3:00:00 marathon while pushing beyond nagging aches, pains, and full-blown injuries.
But at some point you find that these external motivators aren't really the best thing to be going after. And it's not just with running. It's with everything else in life. And even for runners who are very fast now I can't help but wonder if this focus on time has ruined the very best of running. Because running fast becomes an expectation. And when you don't run fast you feel disappointed. But why? What about the experience? What about the gratitude and the feeling of connection to your body, Mother Nature, and other runners? How is it that performance ever became the most important part of running? The short answer is probably commercialization.
We never know what we have until it is gone.
At some point in my young life the unthinkable happened. After 14 years of care-free, injury-free running, I had a full-blown injury and couldn't run a single step. It sucked bad in the moment and it did not help me to have multiple respected healthcare providers tell me to stop running because it's bad for your joints. But I'm here to tell everyone who currently has or has had an injury, I thank the powers at be that I was stubborn and refused to give up. I didn't have instant success. Many injuries later I still struggled but I knew inside that I was meant to run. It didn't matter what anyone told me.
There are just some things you know in your gut and
I knew that I was born to run.
Only I needed to change. I needed to mature my views. So I grew up a little at a time. I reclaimed the simple joy of running again and went through a bit of pain to relearn how to run again. I came to realize the question of running wasn't black and white, it wasn't the sort of question anyone else could answer for you. In my case, years of competition and commercialization had led me to stop listening to my body. I fought for arbitrary goals like a sub-3:00:00 marathon instead of fighting for the joy of running.
All of the things I've learned along the way are beyond the scope of this single blog post (it would be an entire book). But one thing I will say, because Ted brought it to my attention, is that I no longer believe in putting a time or distance goal first. I would caution all athletes against it although this is a very personal decision we each make. My take on running is now more consistent with my world view on life and I believe it makes me a better runner, despite whatever time or distance gets recorded.
Live with gratitude. Enjoy your faculties while you have them. And there's nothing wrong with actively giving thanks to your body for all its done instead of judging it for what it isn't doing.
Running is merely an expression of gratitude. I do believe it helps my mind and body remain healthy, but if abused, it will destroy health. If my running ever becomes first and foremost about a time or distance goal, then I am inherently abusing my ability to run. Because those things are frankly irrelevant. For those who cannot run and to the old me who could not run, I chose to be grateful for every step I take. I chose to be grateful for what my body gives me each day and celebrate it.
There is never a need to be disappointed with my body.
I will still have a race plan for Leadville. I will still prepare and I will do what is in my power to finish. But the point is this...the questions I will ask myself at Leadville are not, how fast can I go or can I beat this other person? The questions I will ask instead are, how can I have more fun and what can I be grateful for in this moment? I will express gratitude to my body in each moment and do what I can to take care of it. After all, 100 miles is a long way.
That is, being the best human being I can be is my first priority.
No one would really argue the above statement and yet I think many runners have found themselves in the position of worrying too much about a performance at some point in their life. A few days ago I listened to an interesting podcast with Barefoot Ted (Ted McDonald) and he brought up several very interesting ideas about running. When the host of the podcast asked Barefoot Ted if barefoot running made you faster, Ted turned the question onto the host, when did we decide that the best part of running could be measured by time?
Listening to his conversation reminded me of how far I have come in my evolution of running. I had a long phase of life where I ran for a time goal...in high school I wanted to earn a scholarship and in college I needed to run quick enough to keep that scholarship. I relaxed my training after college but I still found myself too rigid about my race times. I ran a little for the Army and felt it was in my best interest to see how fast a road-marathoner I could be. For several years I chased a sub-3:00:00 marathon while pushing beyond nagging aches, pains, and full-blown injuries.
But at some point you find that these external motivators aren't really the best thing to be going after. And it's not just with running. It's with everything else in life. And even for runners who are very fast now I can't help but wonder if this focus on time has ruined the very best of running. Because running fast becomes an expectation. And when you don't run fast you feel disappointed. But why? What about the experience? What about the gratitude and the feeling of connection to your body, Mother Nature, and other runners? How is it that performance ever became the most important part of running? The short answer is probably commercialization.
We never know what we have until it is gone.
At some point in my young life the unthinkable happened. After 14 years of care-free, injury-free running, I had a full-blown injury and couldn't run a single step. It sucked bad in the moment and it did not help me to have multiple respected healthcare providers tell me to stop running because it's bad for your joints. But I'm here to tell everyone who currently has or has had an injury, I thank the powers at be that I was stubborn and refused to give up. I didn't have instant success. Many injuries later I still struggled but I knew inside that I was meant to run. It didn't matter what anyone told me.
There are just some things you know in your gut and
I knew that I was born to run.
Only I needed to change. I needed to mature my views. So I grew up a little at a time. I reclaimed the simple joy of running again and went through a bit of pain to relearn how to run again. I came to realize the question of running wasn't black and white, it wasn't the sort of question anyone else could answer for you. In my case, years of competition and commercialization had led me to stop listening to my body. I fought for arbitrary goals like a sub-3:00:00 marathon instead of fighting for the joy of running.
All of the things I've learned along the way are beyond the scope of this single blog post (it would be an entire book). But one thing I will say, because Ted brought it to my attention, is that I no longer believe in putting a time or distance goal first. I would caution all athletes against it although this is a very personal decision we each make. My take on running is now more consistent with my world view on life and I believe it makes me a better runner, despite whatever time or distance gets recorded.
Live with gratitude. Enjoy your faculties while you have them. And there's nothing wrong with actively giving thanks to your body for all its done instead of judging it for what it isn't doing.
Running is merely an expression of gratitude. I do believe it helps my mind and body remain healthy, but if abused, it will destroy health. If my running ever becomes first and foremost about a time or distance goal, then I am inherently abusing my ability to run. Because those things are frankly irrelevant. For those who cannot run and to the old me who could not run, I chose to be grateful for every step I take. I chose to be grateful for what my body gives me each day and celebrate it.
There is never a need to be disappointed with my body.
I will still have a race plan for Leadville. I will still prepare and I will do what is in my power to finish. But the point is this...the questions I will ask myself at Leadville are not, how fast can I go or can I beat this other person? The questions I will ask instead are, how can I have more fun and what can I be grateful for in this moment? I will express gratitude to my body in each moment and do what I can to take care of it. After all, 100 miles is a long way.
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