What's the Point?

My crowning achievement as a collegiate athlete, was when I earned my All American certificate for the 5,000m and 10,000m at the NCAA Division II Championships in 1992. I had spent four very long, but fun and exciting, years training and racing to acquire a piece of parchment paper to validate my efforts as an athlete. At my small, tiny university, during the time I was there, I was surrounded by three All American teammates, an All American assistant coach, and our coach was a 6-7 time All American and two time Olympic trials qualifier in the 1500m and 5000m. Not to mention that he beat Henry Rono, a rare feat in the the year that Rono set 4 World Records. And yet, they were not the overachievers in the crowd. That honor went to one Mr. Danny Grimes, whom himself was a several time All American, a NCAA D2 multiple champ, 3 time Olympic trials qualifier, maybe 4, and a member of the 1987 US World Championships team in the marathon. To say the least, I kept fast company and my piece of parchment paper just didn't seem too impressive.

Although I only got to really run with Grimes for about a year, usually on Sunday mornings when he would meet us for long runs, he had a huge impact on my running life. For as fast of runner as he was, he was never in a hurry. My teammate Mike and I would sometimes feel the surge of testosterone that often flows in young bucks and would have to see who could be the first one up the hill on our weekly ritual 12 mile loop. (I was usually glad to accommodate Mike, mainly because he was a lousy hill runner and it was the only time I could put the hurt to him.) As we galloped off to play king of the mountain, Aldge and Grimes would just cruise behind, talking, laughing and who knows what. After this occurred several times I finally asked why they did not run any faster on their long runs, at which Grimes responded, "what's the point?" Three simple words that changed my approach to training, racing and now, coaching.

What's the point, indeed. Why was I hammering a 12 mile run the day after racing a grueling 8k over hill and dale and mud? And before I would be cranking out mile repeats the next day? Why was I running 70+ miles per week? Why did I keep having the same old feverish nightmare of running in my tighty-whities just to wake up in a pool of sweat and fear? Oh for the love of humanity, what was the point? My running life was spiraling out of control. I had no sense of direction. My internal running compass had been thrown off its axis and I was floundering like a fish out of water. I had no clue what the point was. And to make matters worst, I didn't even look good running around in my Fruit of the Looms in my nightmare! My poor, pale, runner-emaciated body freezing as onlookers gawked and snickered in amusement. (I think I might need therapy for this one.) I had to find the answer. What was the point of it all?

From that moment on, I became a student of the sport. I was pretty well versed in who was who and what they had accomplished as athletes. Shorter, Bachelor, Padilla, Ovett, Coe, Porter, Lindsey, Viren, Spivey, and the list goes on and on and on. I could tell you a hundred different names and their accomplishments, however, the one thing I lacked, and the one thing Grimes was getting at, could I tell how they got to their level of success? This was the point. Did I understand what was important in my day to day training? Did I understand the purpose of each and every run or work-out? Did I take into consideration yesterday, two days ago, or tomorrow? Did I understand the concepts of hard-easy, periodization, Daniels, Lydiard, or McMillan? I had to become a student of training concepts, physiology, and how these concepts are the groundwork for success in distance running.

Grimes simple question on a cold winter morning run changed my running life. I had been training with some very accomplished runners, just thinking I would reap a little success by osmosis, running with them. Little did I know that my success would have to come from my own understanding of training principles, learning to listen to my own body, and gleaning from their insights and knowledge acquired in their own pursuits of glory. My questions began to move away from what was it like to race in Europe or what is so and so like in person to how did you prepare to...? If my legs are feeling heavy from yesterday's race, how did you deal with...? If I am preparing to run a fast 10k, how does this work-out prepare...? I began to read Daniels, Pfitzinger, Brown, Lydiard, and Coe. By the time my senior year rolled around in track, my coach, Aldridge, began to ask me, what are we doing for a work-out today? Nine out of ten times I could answer correctly or just be an interval or two off of what the session would be. I could answer the question, what is the point?

When I finished my last collegiate race and was handed my parchment paper, I could tell you how I had arrived at that point in my running career. So as I set my sights upon another piece of parchment in July, I find myself asking myself each day, what is the point? How is this run, work-out, or activity going to help prepare or hurt my chances? Am I asking the right questions? Whether or not I earn a Masters All American is yet to be seen. My hope is that no matter what the outcome, I will be able to understand why I achieved what I accomplished and understand the point of every step by step of the journey to that moment. Now, if I could just figure out what that crazy tighty-whitey dream is all about?

As always, stay healthy, keep running, and don't worry, I am fully clothed when I am out on the trails and roads!