Pack Mentality

It's July, and once again I have become addicted to watching coverage of the Tour de France on TV. After resisting for a few weeks, I've been glued to the TV set for the final week in the Alps, and what's worse, I've started to think and talk in the foreign language of professional cycling. If I'm out on a run with a group and someone goes ahead, they've "launched an attack on the peleton," and when someone charges up a hill, they're looking for points for "King of the Mountains." My conversation is peppered with phrases like "setting the tempo," "controlling the breakaway," and "defending the maillot jaune."

Sad as this condition may seem -- especially so since I have no cycling experience whatsoever -- it usually passes within a few weeks of the riders taking their victory laps on the Champs Élysées. However, there is one lasting effect of watching so many hours of this stuff, and that is a renewed appreciation of the importance -- and dangers -- of riding, or running, with the pack.

I thought about this again last night, setting off from Cold Springs with about twenty-five other runners and heading up Commonwealth Ave. towards the Chestnut Hill Reservoir. I had planned to run easily, but that plan was almost immediately out the window as I was swept along by a large pack that moved at a steady but rapid tempo. I felt like I had about as much control over my own pace as a leaf that falls into the stream.

It was not unpleasant to be running too fast; actually, it was intoxicating. In fact, it took quite a bit of willpower to follow my original plan of turning at BC, and heading back towards Cold Spring on a pre-arranged shorter loop. there were five of us who turned at that point, and immediately after leaving the larger pack, I suddenly felt the fatigue that had been building up through the early fast miles.

This kind of experience shows the positive aspects of running with a group, and also its perils. In a group, most of us find the collective strength to work harder, and the psychological support to overcome the daily fatigue of training. But at the same time, running with a group can mean turning over responsibility to others for important decisions about training. If a coach is not monitoring the group, the pace and distance of the runs will tend to be determined by the group's strongest, or most excitable members. I wonder how many of us have found ourselves hammering away in practice day after day, even though our race performances suffer for it.

Ideally (and selfishly), the best situation is to have a group that always runs at the right pace: easy, when easy is called for, and fast when the pace needs to be challenging. Realistically, that never happens. On the other hand, by having different training partners for different occasions, you can accomplish the same goal. For example, I think everyone should have at least one training partner who runs so slowly that when you run with that person, you are guaranteed an easy day.

As I write this, the Tour riders are finishing up their final individual time trial. After nearly two weeks of being concerned about drafting and having teammates around for every emergency, it is fascinating to see how the riders cope with having to do all the work by themselves. But even on this day, they have the radios in their ears and they know exactly what the other riders are doing or have done. Even when they are on their own, they are in the midst of the group.

So, too, are the runners who come to Cold Springs. Even when they aren't actually running together, they form a kind of society that encourages its members in training and racing at a higher level.

Ultimately, no one runs alone. You just have to make sure you're in the right group.