Meditation on the run

That beautiful, ecstatic smile of mine at the finish line of a race ... almost never happens. More typically, a photo of me as I approach or cross the finish line would show a gaping mouth dominating a grimacing face. Now, I don't think I run like that throughout the entire race, but I do quite often towards the end, with legs more fatigued, focus less sharp, and mind more wandering. In part to improve my race mug shots, I began, in recent months, to consciously practice my race finish. Deliberate practice, I should add. (Though controversy surrounds Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 hour rule, I think, as a general rule, it makes sense. Correct practice makes perfect! Gladwell recently tried to clarify what he'd meant, i.e., natural ability requires a huge investment of time in order to be made manifest.) So, as I near the finish of training runs, I practice being mindful of a mid-foot placement, of relaxing facial and upper body muscles, of a straight back, of a strong back kick--of good form in general; I practice being mindful of running through the finish line; and I practice being mindful of smiling all the way through (!). Just thinking I should smile is not enough. It has to be practiced to such an extent that it's second nature, because the thought of smiling will almost always get lost in the turmoil of the mind at the end of a race.

The turmoil of the mind. Of course, that's present throughout a race. It's 90% mental! To quell some of that turmoil, especially towards the end of the race, I also began, recently, a certain counting/breathing/striding routine, during the last mile of a run. I'd breathe in through the nose for 2 strides (e.g., left, right) and breathe out through the nose for 2 strides; then breathe in through the nose for 2 strides and breathe out through the mouth for 2 strides; and finally breathe in through the mouth for 2 strides and breathe out through the mouth for 2 strides, while audibly increment the count by 1. So, an example of the sequence would be like this:

Nose breathing 2-2 (2 strides in-2 strides out)
Nose/mouth breathing 2-2
Mouth breathing 2-2, audibly count one
Nose breathing 2-2
Nose/mouth breathing 2-2
Mouth breathing 2-2, audibly count two
...
Nose breathing 2-2
Nose/mouth breathing 2-2
Mouth breathing 2-2, audibly count ten

Then, I'd repeat the sequence of 10 counts with 3-3 breathing (3 strides in-3 strides out). These two sets of 10 counts (2-2 and 3-3) would cover 0.15 to 0.2 mi., depending on how fast I'm running. So, for the last mile of a run, I'd cycle through 5-7 repeats of these two sets. What's interesting is the similarity of this counting to meditation, except it's meditation on the run. And, similar to meditation, it's not easy! The slightest distraction (e.g., passing someone coming the other direction, a kid waiting at the street corner for the school bus, the landscaper guys mowing the grass) and, sometimes, no apparent distraction would throw the routine off. It takes deliberate practice. Also similar to meditation, while I'm concentrating on the counting routine, I remain very aware of how I'm running; I'm mindful of my form and of my surroundings. I think this practice helps me run better the last few miles of races. Coincidentally, I came across this recent related article on "Comfort in Discomfort: Why Mental Practice Matters." Very interesting!

Now, I just need to add a smile to the end of each count, and I'll be ready for the photographer at the finish line!

Treadmill as pacer

I'm almost at the end of Week 15 in my training plan for the September 13 marathon. The previous week (Week 14) was the last one of hard workouts before the two-week taper leading up to the race. That Thursday was a 5-mile tempo workout, with two miles at either end, for a total of nine miles. I ran to the local high school track for the tempo part. Based on my PR paces for 5K and 10K, I was aiming for somewhere between 7:45 and 8:00. But, try as I might, I just couldn't do it and ended up with 8:07, 8:07, 7:58, 8:05, and 8:00. Given that fatigue is 90% mental--right? :)--I knew that, physically, I could have run faster. In fact, in Week 13, which had identical workouts as those of Week 14, I ran the five tempo miles at exactly the paces of 8:00, 7:54, 7:48, 7:42, and 7:48. It was raining that morning, and, uncharacteristically (!), I wimped out and went downstairs and ran on the treadmill. It was a hard workout, but I'd no problems keeping up with the moving belt. In fact, I barely noticed any difference in effort, from mile to mile, as I decreased the time by six seconds each.

In thinking about these two tempo runs, it occurred to me that a treadmill is basically a pacer ... of the strict kind. The kind that absolutely enforces the pace. Can't keep up? Off the belt! This strict enforcement, though, obviates much of the 90% mental work and results in a perceived effort that's lower than that on the track or road, for the same pace. This difference is one of the reasons doing too much training on a treadmill is not good preparation for actual races. The lowered perceived effort is also why pacers are so important, particularly in the latter segments of ultra races, when the mental work becomes harder and harder. In the Western States 100, for example, pacers are allowed beginning from the Foresthill aid station (Mile 62). In a recent article in Runner's World, Laura Beachy wrote about her first 100-miler, the 2014 Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run. Of her "15-pieces of semi-wisdom," the one I like the best is "Pacers are electrolytes for the soul." Although I've not yet ventured into the ultra world, I feel I know exactly what she meant.