Racing, But Not 'Racing'

I’ve finished a fun little week that included a lot of running in races. Last Sunday, I ran the NYC Half-Marathon here in New York, and yesterday (Saturday) I ran the National Half-Marathon in Washington D.C.,. I’m keeping my training focused on the White River 50 this summer, which puts a premium on volume over speed, so I didn’t go in to these races with the feeling that I was 'trained up' properly for their requisite speed. Rather, they were just barometers of my fitness and two chances to run some interesting courses.

From the NYC Half on March 20. Do you like my Prefontaine Mustache?

Now that they are behind me, I admit I kind of enjoyed them, but am still not very fulfilled (especially considering the entry fees and travel expenses). I think this is symptomatic of my need for an explicit and well-defined goal if I’m going to commit myself to the scheduling and expense of a race of any kind. That is, I lack the ability to run races ‘just to enjoy them'. I need a reason more motivating and rewarding. (in the interests of full disclosure, I don't think I'll ever have to forfeit my amateur status and accept prize money for winning anything.)

Running with the expectation and hope of setting a new personal best is certainly motivating enough at any distance. These races present an opportunity to raise your ceiling and improve a measurement you can carry with you forever. I may gain 40 pounds and get arthritic knees someday; but I’ll always have my Marathon & Half-Marathon PBs (which I am quite proud of) to indicate to the world what I was once capable of and compare to the kids of the future.

The simplistic goal of finishing a race can be a sufficient for me under the appropriate circumstances. Any race whose length is beyond my 'comfort zone' and provides an element of fear when I think about my commitment to running that distance will qualify. I remember feeling this consternation the first time I ran a 10k, and again at each incremental distance above that. Uniquely challenging courses qualify as well. 13.1 miles doesn’t really intimidate me anymore, but 13.1 miles up a 7800’ ascent, as you traverse in the Pike’s Peak Ascent, scares the hell out of me. Finishing would be more than a worthy goal by my standards. I’ve almost found the fear I faced going into the race was proportional and fractional to the happiness I felt upon crossing the finish line; anxiety and worry were the antecedents of accomplishment and pride.

Lastly, running to help someone else is an equally worthy reason to run a race as the previous two. Nothing makes me happier than seeing people make the decision to adopt running and all the wonderful ancillary benefits it brings into their life. The first step in that journey, and maybe the hardest, is just getting started and running that first mile on a treadmill or around the block. However, the most rewarding step is the last one across the finish line of a race that seemed impossible before. If I can help someone I care about get to that last step, whether it be as a coach, friend, supporter, or motivator; then I can feel relieved that I have done a service for someone I care about. Racing this way is a means to help someone realize that many of their perceived limits are only imagined. (Important Note: this is different from running to help other people via charity. This kind of running is important and I've run for charities myself too. However, for the gesture being made as a charity runner to mean anything, it must be attached to one of these goals I've discussed. That is, the charity runner himself must be challenged by the physicality of the race. This is the sacrifice the runner makes to reciprocate the sacrifice donors make with their checkbooks. Otherwise, what's the point?) 

I want to be clear: I don’t mean this as a list of the only reasons to run in general, but just as the way I personally feel compelled take on the scheduling and pecuniary obligations of organized racing. There is nothing I love more than touring a new city via a long, easy run that lasts all morning. Conversely, there is nothing that annoys me as much as having to wake up too early so I can run a few miles amongst throngs of people in a cattle shoot for the right to pay $90 and get a t-shirt.

I guess I just enjoy the excitement and risk that comes from not knowing if I’ll achieve something hard and new at the end of the day.

Thanks for sticking with me through this post. Now, in appreciation of your patience, here's a video of a puppy trying to whistle.

-John