As I recover from a cold (and hope it doesn't lead to a sinus infection), it seems appropriate to consider this age-old question: when the body is fighting off illness, should the athlete keep training? Should he or she train differently? If rest is required, how much rest?
I truly wish there were simple answers to these questions, but in my own experience I haven't found anything simple about the experience of training and racing when sick. Let's say that there are two extreme positions: "old school" and "new school." The old school approach is to consider illness to be one more form of weakness that can be overcome by effort. An old school athlete runs when sick, and eventually gets better and is stronger for the experience ("what doesn't kill me makes me stronger"). The new school approach is to consider illness as a warning sign that the body needs healing before it can resume training. The new school athlete takes two days off, gets better, and gradually works up to hard training again. ("What doesn't kill me still leaves me in a weakened, compromised state that inhibits progressive adaptation and improvement.") So which school is better?
I have taken both approaches in my own running career, and have dispensed both "old school" and "new school" advice to athletes I have coached. The results are inconclusive. Worse than that, the results are contradictory. I once ran a brilliant half-marathon while suffering from the early stages of a cold, and recovered surprisingly quickly. I once ran a 10K race with a cold and developed a frightening case of bronchitis that kept me out of action for nearly a month. I have done track workouts while sick that seemed to hasten my cure, and I have done track workouts when sick that seemed to bring on far worse bouts of illness than what would have been expected. I have skipped track workouts when sick in the hope that I would recover faster, and then have failed to recover faster. It has been, as they say, a mixed bag.
One reason to train through illness is that NOT training doesn't always make you feel better. I mean psychologically as well as physically. One reason to AVOID training through an illness is that hard training has been shown to temporarily weaken the immune system, not a good thing when you are harboring nasty germs.
If I had to summarize the moderate approach, I would say that one should fore-go HARD training while sick, but not necessarily take complete reset. I'd also say avoid all racing when sick unless it is a really important race, for example one you have trained for all season. Thus, if you have a cold or a sore throat or a headache, run easy. Easy running means making it completely aerobic - nothing that involves really hard breathing or placing your body in extreme duress. I think there's little risk that such moderate exercise will lengthen the duration of a common cold. On the other hand, don't do that killer 4 x 1M workout that you had planned. Don't go out for a 15 mile long run in sub-freezing temperature. In other words, don't extend yourself. When you're sick, you're more likely to break.
I haven't even mentioned one of the other factors that comes into play: hypochondria. It turns out that many runners are hypochondriacs. When under mental stress, such as when approaching an important workout or race, they experience symptoms of illness without the actual illness. Far from being crazy, these athletes are actually rather typical. One of the important reasons to not automatically shut it down when you are feeling the early signs of a cold, is to counter this natural tendency to "worry yourself sick." Hypochondria, like other forms of self-doubt, needs to be understood and confronted to be overcome.
Finally, there is the rare malady of the athlete who refuses to take time off, even when continuing to train is obviously counter-productive, if not dangerous. If hypochondria is the result of one kind of insecurity, its opposite is the result of another kind of insecurity: the fear that taking any time off at all is an unacceptable form of weakness. This is where a coach can be very helpful in setting limits that an athlete might not want to set for himself or herself.
So, to conclude, should you run when you're sick?
What, do I look like a doctor?
December 30, 2010
December 28, 2010
Omphaloskeptic
(I started writing this in July 2010 when I saw the article about belly button location and sprinting prowess. Unfortunately, I lost my way trying to explain why I thought the science was wrong-headed. I put it aside, and never went back to it... until now... )
"Omphaloskepsis" -- the contemplation of one's own navel, either as an aid to meditation or as the act of the terminally self-absorbed -- is one of those words that's always guaranteed to generate smirks.
And smirking was my first reaction when I started reading reports of a study that attempts to account for the observed Olympic dominance of black sprinters and white swimmers based on the location of their belly buttons.
But, as this summary in the London Telegraph makes clear, the researchers are terribly earnest about their work, and so it would be wrong to dismiss it as the work of cranks.
Indeed, Adrian Bejan, a professor of mechanical engineering at Duke University in North Carolina, and Dr Edward Jones of Howard University seem quite conscious that publishing such work will be a lightning rod for controversy, with some accusing them of racism, and others drawing unwarranted conclusions. As Prof Bejan said, "It’s a physics paper, not an opinion paper. I urge other people to read what I’ve written and then safeguard against attempts to misuse it."
But here's the thing, this is just the latest in a long line of research studies that are, in a sense, ill-conceived from the beginning. Here's how it happens: a pattern is observed in which a particular group dominates some physical or intellectual arena. Researchers attempt to find a single explanation for that dominance. Observations and measurements confirm that the group has some unique characteristic. That characteristic is then identified as the explanation for the behavior. What follows is depressingly predictable. A paper is published. There is controversy about what the research means. The researchers are accused of discrimination. They respond witrh counter-charges that their critics are only interested in political correctness. The researchers claim that they have no bias or political axe to grind; they are only scientists working in the service of objective truth.
Here's the problem with this recent study and all such studies: the observed behavior that makes the research seem compelling -- winning Boston Marathon titles, earning swimming gold medals, or dominating Olympic sprinting -- is not a simple consequence of a single cause; it is the result of a hugely complex network of contributing factors, both physical and social. Thus, the correlation found between, say, ratio of leg length to body height in a population and the number of sprint gold medals in that population, is suggestive, but never conclusive. Physical "gifts" never fully explain why one athlete is a champion and another similarly endowed athlete never makes it. Likewise, physical characteristics never fully explain why one culture dominates a sport.
When I make this argument, I often begin with a question: what country produces the best marathon runners? Over the past 100 year, the answer has shifted dramatically, and each time, some natural trait or genetic advantage has been offered as the explanation. Americans, Canadians, Finns, Japanese, Ethiopians, Djiboutians, and Kenyans have all had periods of dominance. Who knows... maybe someone, some day will demonstrate that there is an inherent advantage is the genes (or the water, or the food) that explains why some particular group is guaranteed to be better than everyone else. But I'm guessing that there will always be doubt, because so many things have to come together for an individual to reach the top -- not just physical gifts, but the right motivation and support.
In science and in sport, it's still true that if you want to be a champion, you must look to your training not to your navel.
"Omphaloskepsis" -- the contemplation of one's own navel, either as an aid to meditation or as the act of the terminally self-absorbed -- is one of those words that's always guaranteed to generate smirks.
And smirking was my first reaction when I started reading reports of a study that attempts to account for the observed Olympic dominance of black sprinters and white swimmers based on the location of their belly buttons.
But, as this summary in the London Telegraph makes clear, the researchers are terribly earnest about their work, and so it would be wrong to dismiss it as the work of cranks.
Indeed, Adrian Bejan, a professor of mechanical engineering at Duke University in North Carolina, and Dr Edward Jones of Howard University seem quite conscious that publishing such work will be a lightning rod for controversy, with some accusing them of racism, and others drawing unwarranted conclusions. As Prof Bejan said, "It’s a physics paper, not an opinion paper. I urge other people to read what I’ve written and then safeguard against attempts to misuse it."
But here's the thing, this is just the latest in a long line of research studies that are, in a sense, ill-conceived from the beginning. Here's how it happens: a pattern is observed in which a particular group dominates some physical or intellectual arena. Researchers attempt to find a single explanation for that dominance. Observations and measurements confirm that the group has some unique characteristic. That characteristic is then identified as the explanation for the behavior. What follows is depressingly predictable. A paper is published. There is controversy about what the research means. The researchers are accused of discrimination. They respond witrh counter-charges that their critics are only interested in political correctness. The researchers claim that they have no bias or political axe to grind; they are only scientists working in the service of objective truth.
Here's the problem with this recent study and all such studies: the observed behavior that makes the research seem compelling -- winning Boston Marathon titles, earning swimming gold medals, or dominating Olympic sprinting -- is not a simple consequence of a single cause; it is the result of a hugely complex network of contributing factors, both physical and social. Thus, the correlation found between, say, ratio of leg length to body height in a population and the number of sprint gold medals in that population, is suggestive, but never conclusive. Physical "gifts" never fully explain why one athlete is a champion and another similarly endowed athlete never makes it. Likewise, physical characteristics never fully explain why one culture dominates a sport.
When I make this argument, I often begin with a question: what country produces the best marathon runners? Over the past 100 year, the answer has shifted dramatically, and each time, some natural trait or genetic advantage has been offered as the explanation. Americans, Canadians, Finns, Japanese, Ethiopians, Djiboutians, and Kenyans have all had periods of dominance. Who knows... maybe someone, some day will demonstrate that there is an inherent advantage is the genes (or the water, or the food) that explains why some particular group is guaranteed to be better than everyone else. But I'm guessing that there will always be doubt, because so many things have to come together for an individual to reach the top -- not just physical gifts, but the right motivation and support.
In science and in sport, it's still true that if you want to be a champion, you must look to your training not to your navel.
December 26, 2010
Racing the Mile
(I wrote this in January 2008 after my first mile race of that indoor season. I was about to turn 50 and I had great ambitions for running a fast mile again. For some reason, I never finished the post... About two weeks after I ran that race I sustained an injury that pretty much wrecked the rest of that season and pretty much the rest of the year. Too bad! It would be a long time before I ran another competitive mile.)
I am nervous.
I am two-thirds through my pre-race routine, the familiar sequence of jogging, stretching, and drills designed to get me warmed up and ready to race, and I am surprised at the butterflies in my stomach. There is absolutely nothing at stake in the race I am about to run -- except my self esteem, I guess, and maybe that it is enough. This is a small, obscure meet and I am running the mile against a few ancient road runners (not a pair of spikes among them), I would not be concerned about the pace. The truth is that almost every time I step to the line to run a mile (and small meets are no exception), it is like I am stepping in front of a firing squad.
The obscure meet is the annual MIT Varsity vs. MIT Alumni meet, Saturday January 12. There are only five competitors in the Open mile run, and three of them just finished the mile racewalk and are doubling. The other "fast guy" says he wants to break 5:20.
The mile is my race. I have known it since I was 11 years old. That's when I read a short piece in Sports Illustrated about an 11-year-old boy who had set a record by running a mile in 5:04. I wanted to do that, too. (It took me until I was 14). I knew it when I was in junior high and the coach listed all the events, and after every one, he asked who thought they wanted to run it. Everyone else wanted to do the sprint races; I wanted to do the mile.
I thought of the mile as a long event, long enough to discourage the really fast kids with little endurance. When I started, it was the longest event available. Eventually, I came to think of it as a perfect balance between endurance and speed. To run it well, you had to train to your body with lots of fast running
I forgot how much I liked the mile for a while when I caught the marathon bug. For many years, my only competitive miles were in summer all-comers meets. When I hit 40, I re-discovered the "joys" of miling.
And now, a decade later and about to enter a new age group, I still want to be able to run a fast mile.
Run a fast mile... it sounds so easy. It all feels easy at first, especially if you can keep your mind from dwelling on how your early pace will lead you into greater and greater anaerobic distress.
I haven't raced a mile since March, and I know that I don't yet have the training to do the race justice. But even with training, the only true way to prepare to race a mile is to race a mile, or several, and then you start to figure it out again.
* * *
When the gun goes off, I go immediately to the front trying to figure out whether I am going too fast. The others are leaving me alone, and after the first 100 meters I know that I'm going to be doing this by myself. The first 200m is 37.
In an indoor mile especially, you have to start thinking right away: how did that FEEL? How much effort went into it? You get fooled, sometimes, the pace feeling so easy but too fast. In this case, it didn't feel easy. Although I know that 37 is not fast, I felt like I was laboring a bit around the flat turns. Still, if I start running slower now, I will settle into mediocrity too early. I work a little bit harder on the next lap and am rewarded with another 37.
The good thing is, I'm not nervous any more. The bad thing is that I don't know what's going to happen to me. The mile is short, but full of surprises.
Two more laps and I hit 800m in 2:30. For some reason, this makes me angry. Not even sub-5:00 pace! I start digging in, no longer trying to think of ways to avoid the discomfort. I run lap 5 in 37 again, and I hit 1200m in 3:43.
By now, I am lapping people, but other than a momentary sense that I am moving fast, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that this is an insignificant race against weak competition. I really need to run sub-5:00 and will put myself through quite a bit of hurt to do it.
But my legs seem to have forgotten how. Or perhaps that last 200 was unwise. I can feel my legs getting rubbery. It happens very quickly in a mile, and I know when I pass 1400m in 4:20 that despite my best efforts I am slowing down. From here on in, I put all my focus on not slowing down. I try to remember to maintain my form. I try to use my arms to make up for the rubbery feeling in my legs.
And then I'm on the final straight. And as time slides away, I sprint stiffly for the last 20 meters. It's not pretty.
When all is said and done, when I finally stop coughing the dreaded hack of the indoor middle-distance runner, I take home the only prize that matters, a time of 4:57.5 and renewed membership in the community of runners who just love racing the mile.
I am nervous.
I am two-thirds through my pre-race routine, the familiar sequence of jogging, stretching, and drills designed to get me warmed up and ready to race, and I am surprised at the butterflies in my stomach. There is absolutely nothing at stake in the race I am about to run -- except my self esteem, I guess, and maybe that it is enough. This is a small, obscure meet and I am running the mile against a few ancient road runners (not a pair of spikes among them), I would not be concerned about the pace. The truth is that almost every time I step to the line to run a mile (and small meets are no exception), it is like I am stepping in front of a firing squad.
The obscure meet is the annual MIT Varsity vs. MIT Alumni meet, Saturday January 12. There are only five competitors in the Open mile run, and three of them just finished the mile racewalk and are doubling. The other "fast guy" says he wants to break 5:20.
The mile is my race. I have known it since I was 11 years old. That's when I read a short piece in Sports Illustrated about an 11-year-old boy who had set a record by running a mile in 5:04. I wanted to do that, too. (It took me until I was 14). I knew it when I was in junior high and the coach listed all the events, and after every one, he asked who thought they wanted to run it. Everyone else wanted to do the sprint races; I wanted to do the mile.
I thought of the mile as a long event, long enough to discourage the really fast kids with little endurance. When I started, it was the longest event available. Eventually, I came to think of it as a perfect balance between endurance and speed. To run it well, you had to train to your body with lots of fast running
I forgot how much I liked the mile for a while when I caught the marathon bug. For many years, my only competitive miles were in summer all-comers meets. When I hit 40, I re-discovered the "joys" of miling.
And now, a decade later and about to enter a new age group, I still want to be able to run a fast mile.
Run a fast mile... it sounds so easy. It all feels easy at first, especially if you can keep your mind from dwelling on how your early pace will lead you into greater and greater anaerobic distress.
I haven't raced a mile since March, and I know that I don't yet have the training to do the race justice. But even with training, the only true way to prepare to race a mile is to race a mile, or several, and then you start to figure it out again.
* * *
When the gun goes off, I go immediately to the front trying to figure out whether I am going too fast. The others are leaving me alone, and after the first 100 meters I know that I'm going to be doing this by myself. The first 200m is 37.
In an indoor mile especially, you have to start thinking right away: how did that FEEL? How much effort went into it? You get fooled, sometimes, the pace feeling so easy but too fast. In this case, it didn't feel easy. Although I know that 37 is not fast, I felt like I was laboring a bit around the flat turns. Still, if I start running slower now, I will settle into mediocrity too early. I work a little bit harder on the next lap and am rewarded with another 37.
The good thing is, I'm not nervous any more. The bad thing is that I don't know what's going to happen to me. The mile is short, but full of surprises.
Two more laps and I hit 800m in 2:30. For some reason, this makes me angry. Not even sub-5:00 pace! I start digging in, no longer trying to think of ways to avoid the discomfort. I run lap 5 in 37 again, and I hit 1200m in 3:43.
By now, I am lapping people, but other than a momentary sense that I am moving fast, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that this is an insignificant race against weak competition. I really need to run sub-5:00 and will put myself through quite a bit of hurt to do it.
But my legs seem to have forgotten how. Or perhaps that last 200 was unwise. I can feel my legs getting rubbery. It happens very quickly in a mile, and I know when I pass 1400m in 4:20 that despite my best efforts I am slowing down. From here on in, I put all my focus on not slowing down. I try to remember to maintain my form. I try to use my arms to make up for the rubbery feeling in my legs.
And then I'm on the final straight. And as time slides away, I sprint stiffly for the last 20 meters. It's not pretty.
When all is said and done, when I finally stop coughing the dreaded hack of the indoor middle-distance runner, I take home the only prize that matters, a time of 4:57.5 and renewed membership in the community of runners who just love racing the mile.
December 24, 2010
Unfinished Business
By now, I should be on a plane bound for Tanzania, leaving cold New England behind for a couple of weeks.
While I'm away, I won't have much Internet access, so don't expect daily updates of my runs in the Serengeti (Don't worry, Joni, I know that I can't run in the Serengeti). But don't despair: I've set up the blog to post a few previously unpublished stories from the archives, starting after Christmas and continuing until I get back.
Here's a preview:
- Racing the Mile
- My take on Barefoot Running (with real poetry!)
- Resolutions for 2011
- Avoiding Treadmills
- How I feel about Rio getting the 2016 Summer Olympics
...and others!
I hope you enjoy these posts. In the mean time, I'd like to wish everyone a very happy New Year, wherever you may spend it!
While I'm away, I won't have much Internet access, so don't expect daily updates of my runs in the Serengeti (Don't worry, Joni, I know that I can't run in the Serengeti). But don't despair: I've set up the blog to post a few previously unpublished stories from the archives, starting after Christmas and continuing until I get back.
Here's a preview:
- Racing the Mile
- My take on Barefoot Running (with real poetry!)
- Resolutions for 2011
- Avoiding Treadmills
- How I feel about Rio getting the 2016 Summer Olympics
...and others!
I hope you enjoy these posts. In the mean time, I'd like to wish everyone a very happy New Year, wherever you may spend it!
December 22, 2010
Shut Out of Boston? Don't Blame Charity Runners
"The B.A.A. reserves the right to reject any entry, issue special invitations, cancel the race, expand or further limit the field, or adjust the entry procedures. The Boston Marathon includes a field of elite, invited athletes. Regardless of qualifying performance, selection and entry into the elite field is subject to review, and acceptances will be made on a limited basis. Entry into the field of elite, invited athletes will be at the sole discretion of the B.A.A. Entry into the Boston Marathon will be at the discretion of the B.A.A." (from the BAA web site)
On Sunday, the Boston Globe published a lengthy piece by Shira Springer and Bob Hohler that was thick with criticism of the BAA and the Boston Marathon for, among other things, shutting out runners with qualifying times in favor of those with invitational or charity entries. (Boston is Caught in a Numbers Game, 12/19/10)
I strongly disagree with both the substance and tone of the piece, which pulls out all the stops to make the BAA look, by turns, incompetent, avaricious, elitist, and insensitive. It's easy enough to cherry-pick a few anecdotes and create that impression. But in so doing, the article doesn't shed any light on the true issues involved in managing entries for the marathon, and makes a scapegoat of charity runners, who have little to do with the problem.
But let's back up a bit. On October 18th, the BAA opened online entry to the 2011 race. It was the first year for the online system, and as the day approached word spread on message boards and email threads encouraging runners to enter as soon as the site went live at 9:00 a.m.. That's what people did, and there were problems handling the unexpectedly high volume of entries. In the end, the 22,000 open slots for qualified runners were filled in a little over eight hours, compared to the 66 days it took to fill the 2010 race.
Almost immediately, one began to hear stories of people who had been unable to enter, or who hadn't had a chance to try before registration closed. There was anger, and those who had been shut out started voicing their resentment towards the BAA for providing roughly 5,000 entries for non-qualified runners.
The New York Times published an article describing the rise of charity running (Charities Gain Traction in Marathons), helping to fan the outcry against the dilution of the Boston "race" with competitors who weren't actually there to compete.
But all of this resentment against the roughly 10% of runners who do so for charities misses the forest for the trees. Obviously, the BAA marathon does not have infinite capacity and the limited supply of entries combined with the high demand to run have created a situation in which some people who want to run won't be able to. the Globe article has an unintentionally revealing story about a doctor who missed the online entry because he was in surgery all day. He immediately ponies up $1600 to get a "complimentary" entry from a medical group. Well surely if the value of an entry is $1600 and the BAA is only charging $250, then demand will outstrip supply -- even if there weren't a single charity runner in the race.
As for the purity of the race... please! The Boston Marathon has never been pure. Since its inception in 1897 there have always been fringe elements in the race -- jokers and characters and those who want to call attention to this or that cause. People run with costumes, with funny hats, with three-piece suits, as well as with messages of hope and inspiration. Remember the original marathon? Phidippides didn't run to compete but to deliver a message. Ever since then, people have used the marathon as a symbol of something more than just a race.
In any case, I know plenty of people who have run the BAA race for charity. They are real runners who happen to be motivated by something other than the personal satisfaction of a PR. They train hard -- just like "real" runners -- and they suffer the same injuries, disappointments, and sense of accomplishment. Maybe it dilutes the overall quality of the race, but I have no problem with charity runners, and no problem with the BAA reserving a small fraction of its spots for them.
Ultimately, the BAA will come up with a different scheme that reserves some number of entries for people who run a particular time. the other entries will go by lottery or something. Things will change over the next couple of years, as they figure out the right formula, but these changes are inevitable. In the mean time, one thing the BAA could do is say that anyone who qualified for 2011 but didn't get in is automatically pre-qualified for 2012.
And if that's not good enough, there's the age-old solution for anyone who wants to run but doesn't have a number: run it as a bandit. That's also a tradition as old as the marathon itself.
On Sunday, the Boston Globe published a lengthy piece by Shira Springer and Bob Hohler that was thick with criticism of the BAA and the Boston Marathon for, among other things, shutting out runners with qualifying times in favor of those with invitational or charity entries. (Boston is Caught in a Numbers Game, 12/19/10)
I strongly disagree with both the substance and tone of the piece, which pulls out all the stops to make the BAA look, by turns, incompetent, avaricious, elitist, and insensitive. It's easy enough to cherry-pick a few anecdotes and create that impression. But in so doing, the article doesn't shed any light on the true issues involved in managing entries for the marathon, and makes a scapegoat of charity runners, who have little to do with the problem.
But let's back up a bit. On October 18th, the BAA opened online entry to the 2011 race. It was the first year for the online system, and as the day approached word spread on message boards and email threads encouraging runners to enter as soon as the site went live at 9:00 a.m.. That's what people did, and there were problems handling the unexpectedly high volume of entries. In the end, the 22,000 open slots for qualified runners were filled in a little over eight hours, compared to the 66 days it took to fill the 2010 race.
Almost immediately, one began to hear stories of people who had been unable to enter, or who hadn't had a chance to try before registration closed. There was anger, and those who had been shut out started voicing their resentment towards the BAA for providing roughly 5,000 entries for non-qualified runners.
The New York Times published an article describing the rise of charity running (Charities Gain Traction in Marathons), helping to fan the outcry against the dilution of the Boston "race" with competitors who weren't actually there to compete.
But all of this resentment against the roughly 10% of runners who do so for charities misses the forest for the trees. Obviously, the BAA marathon does not have infinite capacity and the limited supply of entries combined with the high demand to run have created a situation in which some people who want to run won't be able to. the Globe article has an unintentionally revealing story about a doctor who missed the online entry because he was in surgery all day. He immediately ponies up $1600 to get a "complimentary" entry from a medical group. Well surely if the value of an entry is $1600 and the BAA is only charging $250, then demand will outstrip supply -- even if there weren't a single charity runner in the race.
As for the purity of the race... please! The Boston Marathon has never been pure. Since its inception in 1897 there have always been fringe elements in the race -- jokers and characters and those who want to call attention to this or that cause. People run with costumes, with funny hats, with three-piece suits, as well as with messages of hope and inspiration. Remember the original marathon? Phidippides didn't run to compete but to deliver a message. Ever since then, people have used the marathon as a symbol of something more than just a race.
In any case, I know plenty of people who have run the BAA race for charity. They are real runners who happen to be motivated by something other than the personal satisfaction of a PR. They train hard -- just like "real" runners -- and they suffer the same injuries, disappointments, and sense of accomplishment. Maybe it dilutes the overall quality of the race, but I have no problem with charity runners, and no problem with the BAA reserving a small fraction of its spots for them.
Ultimately, the BAA will come up with a different scheme that reserves some number of entries for people who run a particular time. the other entries will go by lottery or something. Things will change over the next couple of years, as they figure out the right formula, but these changes are inevitable. In the mean time, one thing the BAA could do is say that anyone who qualified for 2011 but didn't get in is automatically pre-qualified for 2012.
And if that's not good enough, there's the age-old solution for anyone who wants to run but doesn't have a number: run it as a bandit. That's also a tradition as old as the marathon itself.
December 19, 2010
Winterfest - Large Schools Results - 12/18/10
Wow, kids are running awfully fast for December 18th!
Only a few days into the high school indoor season, the MSTCA Winterfest meet brought out some impressive performances. Both Newton North teams took part and gave tantalizing hints about what lies ahead.
The NN girls are very, very deep in the sprints, hurdles, and jumping events. Let's start with the hurdles. Kayla Wong had a very nice series of races, running 8.87, 8.82, and 8.84 in the finals to place 3rd. In 4th was Carla Forbes. Seeded at a modest 9.80, Ms. Forbes proceeded to run 9.27 and 9.08 to get into the finals, and then improved to 9.01, which we can presume is personal best. Amy Ren ran 9.23 in the semis, and finsihed 6th in the finals in 9.46.
Ren was also busy elsewhere. She was North's top competitor in the high-jump 5-0 (5th) and long-jump 16-2.5 (3rd). In the high jump North had four jumpers at 4-10 or better, including Ren, Lucia Grigoli (5-0), Forbes (4-10), and Maeve Larkin (4-10). In the long jump, Kayla Prior finished 4th (15-11), with Larkin 6th (15-0.5).
Madi Nadeau finished 5th for the Tigers in the 300 (44.12), while Suzi Bennett ran a nice 45.18 for 14th. In the 1000, Meghan Bellerose (3:15.62) and Maggie Heffernan )3:15.84) finished 5th and 6th. Devika Banerjee was North's top finisher in the mile, running 5:48.25.
But the best finish of the day came from North's 4x200 relay (Nadeau, Wong, Steph Brown, and Forbes), which won the race with a decent early-season time of 1:48.39. I wasn't within ten miles of Reggie, but I'm sure the hand-offs need work and the time will come down.
As for the NN boys, their relays were in mid-season form. The 4x200 team (listed as Ben Clark, Isaiah Penn, Terrell Doyle, and Nate Menninger) won by over two seconds (huge!) in 1:32.92. (Does having access to a better indoor track facility contribute to better relay performances?) The 4x400 team (listed as Clark, Ezra Lichtman, Penn, and Dan Swain -- but surely Penn must have run anchor?) followed suit, winning in 3:33.60. They weren't racing weak teams, either, as 2nd and 3rd went to traditional powers Andover and St. John's Prep.
Individually, North got a great win from Lichtman in the mile (4:28.66), second place finishes from Justin Keefe in the 1000 (2:41.94) and Dan Ranti in the 2-mile (9:52.17). Ranti's time is an indoor personal best, and a great performance this early.
In the 300, sophomore Ryan Lucken placed 5th. In the shot put, North got a strong performance from Young Guang (48'), with Swardick Mayanja placing 5th in 44-10.
Winterfest Large Schools Results
Only a few days into the high school indoor season, the MSTCA Winterfest meet brought out some impressive performances. Both Newton North teams took part and gave tantalizing hints about what lies ahead.
The NN girls are very, very deep in the sprints, hurdles, and jumping events. Let's start with the hurdles. Kayla Wong had a very nice series of races, running 8.87, 8.82, and 8.84 in the finals to place 3rd. In 4th was Carla Forbes. Seeded at a modest 9.80, Ms. Forbes proceeded to run 9.27 and 9.08 to get into the finals, and then improved to 9.01, which we can presume is personal best. Amy Ren ran 9.23 in the semis, and finsihed 6th in the finals in 9.46.
Ren was also busy elsewhere. She was North's top competitor in the high-jump 5-0 (5th) and long-jump 16-2.5 (3rd). In the high jump North had four jumpers at 4-10 or better, including Ren, Lucia Grigoli (5-0), Forbes (4-10), and Maeve Larkin (4-10). In the long jump, Kayla Prior finished 4th (15-11), with Larkin 6th (15-0.5).
Madi Nadeau finished 5th for the Tigers in the 300 (44.12), while Suzi Bennett ran a nice 45.18 for 14th. In the 1000, Meghan Bellerose (3:15.62) and Maggie Heffernan )3:15.84) finished 5th and 6th. Devika Banerjee was North's top finisher in the mile, running 5:48.25.
But the best finish of the day came from North's 4x200 relay (Nadeau, Wong, Steph Brown, and Forbes), which won the race with a decent early-season time of 1:48.39. I wasn't within ten miles of Reggie, but I'm sure the hand-offs need work and the time will come down.
As for the NN boys, their relays were in mid-season form. The 4x200 team (listed as Ben Clark, Isaiah Penn, Terrell Doyle, and Nate Menninger) won by over two seconds (huge!) in 1:32.92. (Does having access to a better indoor track facility contribute to better relay performances?) The 4x400 team (listed as Clark, Ezra Lichtman, Penn, and Dan Swain -- but surely Penn must have run anchor?) followed suit, winning in 3:33.60. They weren't racing weak teams, either, as 2nd and 3rd went to traditional powers Andover and St. John's Prep.
Individually, North got a great win from Lichtman in the mile (4:28.66), second place finishes from Justin Keefe in the 1000 (2:41.94) and Dan Ranti in the 2-mile (9:52.17). Ranti's time is an indoor personal best, and a great performance this early.
In the 300, sophomore Ryan Lucken placed 5th. In the shot put, North got a strong performance from Young Guang (48'), with Swardick Mayanja placing 5th in 44-10.
Winterfest Large Schools Results
December 17, 2010
BSL Indoor Meet Results - 12/16/10
If the results posted on Cool Running are accurate, Newton North's first indoor meet against Braintree was full of promise for the season to come. The NN girls swamped the Wamps (have I used that phrase before?) 78-8 and the NN boys were nearly as dominant in winning 72-14.
Boys Meet
The boys won every event in their dual meet except the relay, where Cool Running reports they were DQ'd for an infraction of the jewelry rule. I'll bet that presented a teaching moment or two for the NN coaching staff. That aside, and acknowledging that Braintree was not a strong team, what was impressive was the balance of the NN effort. There was not a single event in which North did not have a strong competitor. NN athletes had the top league performances in these events:
Mile (Ranti)
1000 (Lichtman)
600 (Penn)
2 Mile (Keefe)
High Jump (Hart)
Shot Put (Mayanja)
Long Jump (Hart)
In the 300, Ryan Lucken had the second fastest time of the night in what I think is a PB 37.07. In the 55, Terrell Doyle ran the 4th fastest time (6.99), and in the 55 hurdles, freshman Nick Fofana also had the 4th fastest time (8.58) in his first meet. If the guys figure out that jewelry thing, they'll be pretty good in the relay, too.
Girls Meet
The girls won every event against Braintree except the shot put, and also had several league-best performances:
Margo Gillis (600)
Carla Forbes (55)
Amy Ren (Long Jump)
4x400 Relay
The Tigers look very, very good in the shorter events and jumps, but could be vulnerable in the distance events and shot.
If I had to guess, I would say that along with proven stars Gills and Forbes, North's strength in big meets will be its relays -- especially the 4x200, 4x400, LJ and HJ. And who knows, sophomores Madi Nadeau (43.60 300) and Meghan Bellerose (1:43.22 600 behind Gillis) look like they might be developing stars in their own rights this year.
Results of boys events
Results of girls events
Boys Meet
The boys won every event in their dual meet except the relay, where Cool Running reports they were DQ'd for an infraction of the jewelry rule. I'll bet that presented a teaching moment or two for the NN coaching staff. That aside, and acknowledging that Braintree was not a strong team, what was impressive was the balance of the NN effort. There was not a single event in which North did not have a strong competitor. NN athletes had the top league performances in these events:
Mile (Ranti)
1000 (Lichtman)
600 (Penn)
2 Mile (Keefe)
High Jump (Hart)
Shot Put (Mayanja)
Long Jump (Hart)
In the 300, Ryan Lucken had the second fastest time of the night in what I think is a PB 37.07. In the 55, Terrell Doyle ran the 4th fastest time (6.99), and in the 55 hurdles, freshman Nick Fofana also had the 4th fastest time (8.58) in his first meet. If the guys figure out that jewelry thing, they'll be pretty good in the relay, too.
Girls Meet
The girls won every event against Braintree except the shot put, and also had several league-best performances:
Margo Gillis (600)
Carla Forbes (55)
Amy Ren (Long Jump)
4x400 Relay
The Tigers look very, very good in the shorter events and jumps, but could be vulnerable in the distance events and shot.
If I had to guess, I would say that along with proven stars Gills and Forbes, North's strength in big meets will be its relays -- especially the 4x200, 4x400, LJ and HJ. And who knows, sophomores Madi Nadeau (43.60 300) and Meghan Bellerose (1:43.22 600 behind Gillis) look like they might be developing stars in their own rights this year.
Results of boys events
Results of girls events
December 15, 2010
Let Them Double
Indoor track is underway, and this week Bay State teams will be trekking to the Reggie Lewis center for their first meets of the new season.
The return of track also marks the return of an ancient argument about whether runners in the Bay State League should be allowed to double in distance events. I've never really understood what's so controversial about allowing high school athletes to run multiple races longer than 300m (400m outdoors). Why does it inspire such heated debate? Those who would preserve this unfair EXCEPTION to the normal participation rules typically make one of the following arguments: coaches would double their best runners too frequently and harm them in some way; or some coaches would double their athletes and others would not (out of principle), thereby creating an unfair advantage for the less principled coach; or doubling is inherently unsafe for athletes of this age. I hope I'm not distorting any of the standard reasons given for the prohibition.
But let's back up, and think about this for a few moments...
Like any other high school sport, Track and Field competition is governed by a set of rules intended to balance a variety of goals, among them:
- Fostering competition
- Encouraging participation
- Ensuring a safe competition environment
- Protecting the health and well-being of athletes
- Respecting the integrity of the sport
Inevitably, situations arise in which these various goals are in conflict. For example, safety concerns have led to much more stringent rules about pole-vaulting. This has probably led to less participation in that event. In this case, the goal of safety trumped the goal of increased participation.
Whether you, personally, agree with the SPECIFIC RULES or not, there is at least a reason for having rules limiting participation in high school track and field competitions. These rules reflect multiple goals, but I think the main ones are respecting the health and well-being of the athlete and fostering team competition by making it harder for a single athlete to dominate a meet. Hence, athletes are limited to a certain number of running events, field events, and relays. Again, whether you agree or disagree with these limits, you should recognize that the rules are there to balance competing interests. Other high school sport also enforce their own limits (for example, number of contests permissible in a week). It's important to acknowledge that the distance double debate is not, fundamentally, about whether ANY participation limits are valid, but whether the particular restriction on distance events is justified.
Speaking of participation, it's worth mentioning that no high school sport mandates MINIMUM or EQUAL participation. In other words, if a high school basketball coach chooses to play only seven of his twelve players in a game, there is no rule violation. If a track and field coach chooses to enter only a single competitor (or no competitor) in the high jump, there is no violation. In other words, there is no guarantee in the rules that every kid gets a chance, admirable as that might be.
So if the debate isn't about participation limits, and if it's not about minimum participation, what is it about?
The distance double debate is, fundamentally, about whether the distance events (600 and up indoors, 800 and up outdoors) require an EXCEPTION to the existing rules, an ADDITIONAL rule that singles out these events for special treatment.
Before answering that, let's consider what IS allowed under the current rules:
The rules allow doubling in two sprinting events, or a sprinting event and a distance event (the 300 and mile, say). The rules allow competing in consecutive events, regardless of how little rest the athlete might have (e.g. the 110 hurdles and 100 outdoors, or the boys 2-mile followed by the 4x400 relay). If I remember them correctly, the BSL rules for outdoor track allow participation in four events that all involve "sprinting" -- the 100, 200, long jump, and triple jump.
The point is, the rules allow all sorts of things that are pretty damn hard and that might be considered not in the best interests of your average high school athlete. However, in order not to become buried in well-meaning prohibitions covering every possible scenario that could create stress, the rules make an assumption that coaches are capable of making participation decisions that balance the interests of the team with the well-being and development of the individual athletes.
And yet... the distance races have been singled out for an exception to the current rules that limits participation beyond what is already in place for other events.
There is only one possible, logical reason for making an exception for the longer events, and that is the argument that there is something inherently different about these events that justifies special treatment and the need to enforce one set of limits for most of the events, and a different set of limits for a few of them. So what is inherently different about distance events?
One thing that is different is that they are the only events in track and field that depend heavily on a well-developed aerobic system. Thus, the distance events are often the refuge of athletes who do not possess superior strength, speed, or leaping ability, but do exhibit persistence in training and a high tolerance for discomfort in competition. Many a high school distance runner never excelled at other sports when younger because almost without exception those other sports require strength, speed, or agility... but not endurance. Compare that to sprinters or jumpers, who are usually stars on other sports teams (football, soccer, basketball...)
Another difference is that distance events have the reputation of being "grueling" in a way that other events are not. Distance runners promote this myth themselves in a bid for greater status. (Think of the XC t-shirt slogans you've seen -- "My sport is your sport's punishment," "If cross country were any easier it would be called FOOTBALL," and so on.) I'll admit that distance runners have an absurdly high tolerance for long, tedious training. But as a miler who used to run on a 4x400 relay, I am willing to state for the record that the mile is cake compared to the final 50m death march at the end of a quarter mile. The two mile? Against most schools the two mile was easier than most of our training runs.
But opponents of distance doubling will still argue that distance doubling is simply not in the best interests of the young distance runner. I do respect that opinion, even if I think it is far too broad a statement to make about all the young distance runners in the world. I would point out, however, that a coach who holds that opinion is never forced to double a distance runner. Opponents of distance doubling argue that if THEY do not double their athletes, they will be at a competitive disadvantage against coaches who DO choose to double their athletes. That might be true. And the same thing is true if I choose not to quadruple my sprinters because I don't think it is in their best interest to compete in so many events. Actually, there are many examples of admirable personal beliefs that put one at a competitive disadvantage. This is another example of how the sport expects coaches to work out the norms for participation based on their knowledge of the individual kids and their experience, rather than have it dictated to them.
(As an aside, I remember when I used to coach an 8th-grade travel basketball team and I insisted -- stubbornly -- on playing every kid on the team about the same amount of time, even though I knew that this might put me at a competitive disadvantage. I never once wanted to change the rules to REQUIRE that other coaches make that decision, I figured there were valid reasons for giving more playing time to the better players, and that requiring equal playing time would WARP the game and lessen its enjoyment for many. So in that case, I felt fine coaching according to my personal beliefs, even if that meant I might at times be at a competitive disadvantage. I'll also admit that I didn't have any stars on my team, so it worked well to have a deep bench. The point is that this kind of trade off happens ALL THE TIME in youth coaching, and the rules can't possibly cover every situation in which such a conflict occurs.)
As a distance runner, I kind of like that other people think that what I do is really hard and give it their respect, but honestly, what I do and what other distance runners do isn't as special as we like to think. I've doubled plenty of times, as have most distance runners, and I haven't seen a shred of evidence that doubling, per se, is dangerous or unhealthy. Distance doubling is common for well-trained runners from the high school level on up. Is it hard? Sometimes. But no harder than other hard things that sprinters, jumpers, and throwers undertake in track and field. As much as I hate to admit it (being a distance runner), there really is no reason to think the distance running has a special mystique. Distance runners train to be able to run distance events, and it's just not that big a deal to run two of them in a single meet. Bad coaches might abuse the privilege, but bad coaches will always do damage and one special rule "protecting" distance runners won't make any difference.
So here's my argument in a nutshell: the CURRENT general participation rules are debatable but consistent. However, a SPECIAL rule that applies only to the distance events is inconsistent and unfair to the individual athletes who have trained to run distance events, to the teams that have exceptional distance runners, and to the nature of the sport.
It's time to remove the restriction.
The return of track also marks the return of an ancient argument about whether runners in the Bay State League should be allowed to double in distance events. I've never really understood what's so controversial about allowing high school athletes to run multiple races longer than 300m (400m outdoors). Why does it inspire such heated debate? Those who would preserve this unfair EXCEPTION to the normal participation rules typically make one of the following arguments: coaches would double their best runners too frequently and harm them in some way; or some coaches would double their athletes and others would not (out of principle), thereby creating an unfair advantage for the less principled coach; or doubling is inherently unsafe for athletes of this age. I hope I'm not distorting any of the standard reasons given for the prohibition.
But let's back up, and think about this for a few moments...
Like any other high school sport, Track and Field competition is governed by a set of rules intended to balance a variety of goals, among them:
- Fostering competition
- Encouraging participation
- Ensuring a safe competition environment
- Protecting the health and well-being of athletes
- Respecting the integrity of the sport
Inevitably, situations arise in which these various goals are in conflict. For example, safety concerns have led to much more stringent rules about pole-vaulting. This has probably led to less participation in that event. In this case, the goal of safety trumped the goal of increased participation.
Whether you, personally, agree with the SPECIFIC RULES or not, there is at least a reason for having rules limiting participation in high school track and field competitions. These rules reflect multiple goals, but I think the main ones are respecting the health and well-being of the athlete and fostering team competition by making it harder for a single athlete to dominate a meet. Hence, athletes are limited to a certain number of running events, field events, and relays. Again, whether you agree or disagree with these limits, you should recognize that the rules are there to balance competing interests. Other high school sport also enforce their own limits (for example, number of contests permissible in a week). It's important to acknowledge that the distance double debate is not, fundamentally, about whether ANY participation limits are valid, but whether the particular restriction on distance events is justified.
Speaking of participation, it's worth mentioning that no high school sport mandates MINIMUM or EQUAL participation. In other words, if a high school basketball coach chooses to play only seven of his twelve players in a game, there is no rule violation. If a track and field coach chooses to enter only a single competitor (or no competitor) in the high jump, there is no violation. In other words, there is no guarantee in the rules that every kid gets a chance, admirable as that might be.
So if the debate isn't about participation limits, and if it's not about minimum participation, what is it about?
The distance double debate is, fundamentally, about whether the distance events (600 and up indoors, 800 and up outdoors) require an EXCEPTION to the existing rules, an ADDITIONAL rule that singles out these events for special treatment.
Before answering that, let's consider what IS allowed under the current rules:
The rules allow doubling in two sprinting events, or a sprinting event and a distance event (the 300 and mile, say). The rules allow competing in consecutive events, regardless of how little rest the athlete might have (e.g. the 110 hurdles and 100 outdoors, or the boys 2-mile followed by the 4x400 relay). If I remember them correctly, the BSL rules for outdoor track allow participation in four events that all involve "sprinting" -- the 100, 200, long jump, and triple jump.
The point is, the rules allow all sorts of things that are pretty damn hard and that might be considered not in the best interests of your average high school athlete. However, in order not to become buried in well-meaning prohibitions covering every possible scenario that could create stress, the rules make an assumption that coaches are capable of making participation decisions that balance the interests of the team with the well-being and development of the individual athletes.
And yet... the distance races have been singled out for an exception to the current rules that limits participation beyond what is already in place for other events.
There is only one possible, logical reason for making an exception for the longer events, and that is the argument that there is something inherently different about these events that justifies special treatment and the need to enforce one set of limits for most of the events, and a different set of limits for a few of them. So what is inherently different about distance events?
One thing that is different is that they are the only events in track and field that depend heavily on a well-developed aerobic system. Thus, the distance events are often the refuge of athletes who do not possess superior strength, speed, or leaping ability, but do exhibit persistence in training and a high tolerance for discomfort in competition. Many a high school distance runner never excelled at other sports when younger because almost without exception those other sports require strength, speed, or agility... but not endurance. Compare that to sprinters or jumpers, who are usually stars on other sports teams (football, soccer, basketball...)
Another difference is that distance events have the reputation of being "grueling" in a way that other events are not. Distance runners promote this myth themselves in a bid for greater status. (Think of the XC t-shirt slogans you've seen -- "My sport is your sport's punishment," "If cross country were any easier it would be called FOOTBALL," and so on.) I'll admit that distance runners have an absurdly high tolerance for long, tedious training. But as a miler who used to run on a 4x400 relay, I am willing to state for the record that the mile is cake compared to the final 50m death march at the end of a quarter mile. The two mile? Against most schools the two mile was easier than most of our training runs.
But opponents of distance doubling will still argue that distance doubling is simply not in the best interests of the young distance runner. I do respect that opinion, even if I think it is far too broad a statement to make about all the young distance runners in the world. I would point out, however, that a coach who holds that opinion is never forced to double a distance runner. Opponents of distance doubling argue that if THEY do not double their athletes, they will be at a competitive disadvantage against coaches who DO choose to double their athletes. That might be true. And the same thing is true if I choose not to quadruple my sprinters because I don't think it is in their best interest to compete in so many events. Actually, there are many examples of admirable personal beliefs that put one at a competitive disadvantage. This is another example of how the sport expects coaches to work out the norms for participation based on their knowledge of the individual kids and their experience, rather than have it dictated to them.
(As an aside, I remember when I used to coach an 8th-grade travel basketball team and I insisted -- stubbornly -- on playing every kid on the team about the same amount of time, even though I knew that this might put me at a competitive disadvantage. I never once wanted to change the rules to REQUIRE that other coaches make that decision, I figured there were valid reasons for giving more playing time to the better players, and that requiring equal playing time would WARP the game and lessen its enjoyment for many. So in that case, I felt fine coaching according to my personal beliefs, even if that meant I might at times be at a competitive disadvantage. I'll also admit that I didn't have any stars on my team, so it worked well to have a deep bench. The point is that this kind of trade off happens ALL THE TIME in youth coaching, and the rules can't possibly cover every situation in which such a conflict occurs.)
As a distance runner, I kind of like that other people think that what I do is really hard and give it their respect, but honestly, what I do and what other distance runners do isn't as special as we like to think. I've doubled plenty of times, as have most distance runners, and I haven't seen a shred of evidence that doubling, per se, is dangerous or unhealthy. Distance doubling is common for well-trained runners from the high school level on up. Is it hard? Sometimes. But no harder than other hard things that sprinters, jumpers, and throwers undertake in track and field. As much as I hate to admit it (being a distance runner), there really is no reason to think the distance running has a special mystique. Distance runners train to be able to run distance events, and it's just not that big a deal to run two of them in a single meet. Bad coaches might abuse the privilege, but bad coaches will always do damage and one special rule "protecting" distance runners won't make any difference.
So here's my argument in a nutshell: the CURRENT general participation rules are debatable but consistent. However, a SPECIAL rule that applies only to the distance events is inconsistent and unfair to the individual athletes who have trained to run distance events, to the teams that have exceptional distance runners, and to the nature of the sport.
It's time to remove the restriction.
December 13, 2010
Dark, Dark, Dark
In Boston, the first two weeks of December claim the dubious distinction of having the earliest sunsets of the year. Consulting the world clock at timeanddate.com, I read that on December 3rd, sunset in Boston occurred at 4:12 p.m... and it has been stuck there ever since.
I realize that not everyone minds that the afternoons are so short. I'm sure that anyone who is a fan of Christmas lights probably loves these long December nights and the many houses tricked out in their colorful displays. I'm sure that skiers, skaters, and hockey players don't mind the short days as long as they bring the cold temperatures and snow. Even those whose sports take them indoors to shoot hoops or run around cramped tracks in arid field houses seem to enjoy the long nights. Basketball games contested in the stifling heat of a raucous gym wouldn't seem right without the frosty evening outside turning your breath into white steam and freezing your damp hair as you emerge from the warmth of the school and walk to your car.
High school kids, especially, have no fear of early sunsets, nor any sense of awe at the soul-sapping enormity of winter. Weekdays are merely for school, and weekends are mostly for sleeping, if they had their way. Nights are everything else; all the fun and interesting stuff happens when the sun goes down...
But I'm not a high school kid and that's not how it feels to me.
To me, it is a daily burden that the day ends at 4:12 p.m. Monday through Friday afternoons I'm usually thinking about an evening run and trying not to think too longingly about dinner and the warmth of my kitchen. On weekend afternoons, I've done my run but I'm already wondering where the rest of the day went and why didn't I get more done?
But I take solace from the fact that today, December 14th, marks the subtle end of the sun's slide into earlier and earlier retirement. Sunset in Boston today will be at 4:12. Sunset in Boston tomorrow will be at 4:13. Even though there is a week to go before the solstice and the shortest day of the year, with an extra minute or so of daylight in the afternoon, we have turned one kind of corner.
It's like reaching the turnaround point on an out-and-back course. You know that the hardest part is still ahead, but now every step is bringing you closer to your goal.
Sometimes I think that perhaps it would be better not to pay so much attention to the calendar. This pining for longer days might be detracting from my ability to enjoy these shorter days to the fullest. And even running at this time of year does have its pleasures. For one, running in the dark creates the illusion of speed -- I feel much faster now running alone on Comm Ave in the early evening. For another, meeting friends in the winter for long Sunday runs is the highlight of my social life. Meeting on Thursday nights at the indoor track is a close second. (Yes, that's what my social life is like...)
Well, it hardly matters what I think about it, the earth's axis will keep swaying back and forth -- now toward the sun, now away from it. But I'll mark today as a special one because the calendar reminds me to endure and be patient. We've made it this far, and in no time, we'll start noticing the sun staying up a little longer as we leave work or school. The coldest days are ahead, but not the darkest ones.
2010 Boston Globe All-Scholastics
This Sunday's Boston Globe includes their special section recognizing All-Scholastic athletes from the Fall 2010 season. I didn't always look forward to these awards, since the selection process seems a little arbitrary to me. Awards that are not determined entirely on the course or on the field of play are always a little suspect, I think.
But at some point I realized that the best way to think about these post-season honors was as an extra bonus, not something to take the place of championships and honors earned in competition, but an addition to them. This has helped me not to grouse about injustices real or imagined.
In that spirit, let me add my congratulations to the Bay Staters who earned All-Scholastic and League All-Star recognition. On the boys side, Weymouth's Steve Sollowin, the two-time Bay State League champ, was named Division I Cross-Country Runner of the Year. Brookline junior Chernet Sisay was also named an All-Scholastic. On the girls' side, congratulations to Weymouth's Jillian Corcoran and Wellesley's Priyanka Fouda who were recognized as All-Scholastics.
Mike Glennon might easily have been named a Boys Coach of the Year, and would have deserved it, as his team won the State D1 championships for the second time in four years. But this is where we have to take a deep breath and not fret. The honor is subjective, and deserving coaches are not always recognized. So it goes. Until they start running races or taking standardized tests to determine the winners, it's not worth worrying about.
Having said that, it's nice to see someone get recognized. Big congratulations, then, to Weymouth's Mike Miller, who was honored as the Girls Div I coach of the year for guiding the Wildcats to their first state championship in a generation. Mike brings tremendous energy to the Weymouth program and he has built the team into a perennial contender. Congratulations, Coach Miller!
As for league all-Stars, here are the Bay-State runners who were recognized as all-stars for the 2010 season:
Boys:
Brookline: Matt Goroff, Mike Katzeff, Mark Perry, Chernet Sisay, Romey Skylar. Framingham: Ben Groleau. Needham: Sean O'Connor, Jeff Okerman. Newton North: Justin Keefe, Ezra Lichtman, Dan Ranti. Walpole: Justin Connolly, Zach Ganshirt, Dave Wians. Wellesley: James Eisenstein, Peter Kreig. Weymouth: Steven Connolly, Nolan Parsley, Stephen Sollowin.
Girls:
Brookline: Leah Gellineau. Framingham: Sarah Bowhill, Maria Grandoni. Milton: Clara Heiden, Mairead Kiernan. Natick: Annie McElaney. Needham: Hannah Alpert. Newton North: Margo Gillis. Norwood: Kelsey Colbert. Walpole: Courtney Shea. Wellesley: Priyanka Fouda, Jessie Kaliski, Eva Lauer, Eve Roth. Weymouth: Molly Barker, Jill Corcoran, Morgan Fitzgibbon, Bridget Jaklitsch, Julie Tevenan.
But at some point I realized that the best way to think about these post-season honors was as an extra bonus, not something to take the place of championships and honors earned in competition, but an addition to them. This has helped me not to grouse about injustices real or imagined.
In that spirit, let me add my congratulations to the Bay Staters who earned All-Scholastic and League All-Star recognition. On the boys side, Weymouth's Steve Sollowin, the two-time Bay State League champ, was named Division I Cross-Country Runner of the Year. Brookline junior Chernet Sisay was also named an All-Scholastic. On the girls' side, congratulations to Weymouth's Jillian Corcoran and Wellesley's Priyanka Fouda who were recognized as All-Scholastics.
Mike Glennon might easily have been named a Boys Coach of the Year, and would have deserved it, as his team won the State D1 championships for the second time in four years. But this is where we have to take a deep breath and not fret. The honor is subjective, and deserving coaches are not always recognized. So it goes. Until they start running races or taking standardized tests to determine the winners, it's not worth worrying about.
Having said that, it's nice to see someone get recognized. Big congratulations, then, to Weymouth's Mike Miller, who was honored as the Girls Div I coach of the year for guiding the Wildcats to their first state championship in a generation. Mike brings tremendous energy to the Weymouth program and he has built the team into a perennial contender. Congratulations, Coach Miller!
As for league all-Stars, here are the Bay-State runners who were recognized as all-stars for the 2010 season:
Boys:
Brookline: Matt Goroff, Mike Katzeff, Mark Perry, Chernet Sisay, Romey Skylar. Framingham: Ben Groleau. Needham: Sean O'Connor, Jeff Okerman. Newton North: Justin Keefe, Ezra Lichtman, Dan Ranti. Walpole: Justin Connolly, Zach Ganshirt, Dave Wians. Wellesley: James Eisenstein, Peter Kreig. Weymouth: Steven Connolly, Nolan Parsley, Stephen Sollowin.
Girls:
Brookline: Leah Gellineau. Framingham: Sarah Bowhill, Maria Grandoni. Milton: Clara Heiden, Mairead Kiernan. Natick: Annie McElaney. Needham: Hannah Alpert. Newton North: Margo Gillis. Norwood: Kelsey Colbert. Walpole: Courtney Shea. Wellesley: Priyanka Fouda, Jessie Kaliski, Eva Lauer, Eve Roth. Weymouth: Molly Barker, Jill Corcoran, Morgan Fitzgibbon, Bridget Jaklitsch, Julie Tevenan.
December 12, 2010
Notes From Footlocker 2010: Verzibicas Repeats, Cuffe Cruises
I didn't watch yesterday's Footlocker National XC Championships "live" and when I did tune in to the replay of the webcast, I already knew that Luka Verzbicas had won his second straight title. Verzbicas, who was an academic sophomore last year, is now a senior, and became only the third boy to defend a Footlocker championship. He also became the first ever to win both the NXN and Footlocker championship races.
Now one of the most accomplished high school runners in U.S. history, a big question is how Verzbicas will balance his interest in Running with his equally passionate interest in racing triathlons. Offhand, I can't think of any other runner who competed in both sports at such a high level at such an early age. I know that Lance Armstrong was an excellent triathlete before he decided to focus on bike racing. I guess that worked out for him.
But back to the Footlocker race, which you can watch again, below:
Now one of the most accomplished high school runners in U.S. history, a big question is how Verzbicas will balance his interest in Running with his equally passionate interest in racing triathlons. Offhand, I can't think of any other runner who competed in both sports at such a high level at such an early age. I know that Lance Armstrong was an excellent triathlete before he decided to focus on bike racing. I guess that worked out for him.
But back to the Footlocker race, which you can watch again, below:
December 06, 2010
A Wild Stubbornness Has Taken Me This Far
I'm planning to end my streak of consecutive days running on January 2, 2011.
I last took a day off last Christmas. Since then, I have run at least three miles every day, 345 days so far. Over the course of the streak, I've tried to train and race the same way I always have. But to keep the streak alive, I've run on days when it definitely would have made more sense to take the day off. For example, I probably didn't need to run the day after the marathon in October, and I probably would have benefited from trading some of those 11 p.m. runs for an extra hour of sleep. Oh well.
I feel like I could remember every one of my runs if I tried, although some stick out more than others:
I remember running ninety minutes in a snow storm with Terry and Tyler, doing loop after loop following a snow plow around the campus of Babson College. It seemed to snow every weekend for a month, and every weekend we faithfully observed the ritual of the long run.
I remember running in a downpour one late afternoon in April, and coming across the deserted turf fields at Concord-Carlisle High School. Already drenched, I was seized by inspiration and took my shoes off and suddenly a dull and joyless obligation became a barefoot frolic. If anyone happened to see me that day, I am sure they thought I was quite insane.
I remember returning from the New England Prep School XC Championships a month ago, trying to decide whether sprinting back and forth around the course all afternoon watching my runners "counted" as a run, concluding that it didn't, and after saying goodnight to the team, slipping away to the Concord track to run three quiet miles in the dark. When I was done, I lay on my back in the middle of the deserted track, and looked up into the starry night for some time before I got cold and decided it was time to go home.
A lot of memories, mostly good. But now I'm about ready to end this thing. I hope I get to do it on my own terms, but there are obstacles remaining. On December 24th, I'll be departing with my family on a trip to Tanzania to visit Joni. Running that day and the next will be tough. Joni tells me that while we're in Arusha, I'll be able to run as long as I don't mind people pointing at me and yelling, but that from December 28th on when we're in the national parks, the only option is to run tiny loops within the perimeter of the campgrounds. In other words, it's strictly forbidden to assert the right to become lion food.
On those days, I'll try to get my three miles done by running in small circles. Joni says it will be like running 35 laps in the old SOA -- if, that is, the SOA had no walls or ceiling, was plagued by malarial mosquitoes, and was in the middle of the Serengeti. In other words, I might not be able to do my runs, but I'm hopeful and I'm stubborn.
If I'm still alive and the streak is intact, I'd also like to run on New Year's Day because I hate the idea of starting a new year with a day off, but on January 2nd, I'm not going to run, even if I feel like it.
Speaking of stubborn, about the only thing I can point to as a "learning experience" from this streak is that running every day has allowed me to cultivate a whole new level of stubbornness of which I'm becoming immodestly proud. It's pretty funny how it manifests itself in trivial things. For example, only a few nights ago I had another day of non-stop obligations that forced me to head out the door at 9 p.m. for one of my freezing late-night three milers. About two miles into my run, one of my shoelaces came untied. Instead of giving in to the shoelace and stopping to re-tie it, I thought to myself "I am NOT stopping to to tie a @#&*ing shoelace on a three-@#&*ing mile run," and I didn't. I ran the rest of the way with the shoelaces flopping and the shoe threatening to become dislodged from my foot. For one mile on the deserted streets of West Newton it was me against a piece of footwear.
I finished my run with the shoe still in place, stubbornness rewarded.
I last took a day off last Christmas. Since then, I have run at least three miles every day, 345 days so far. Over the course of the streak, I've tried to train and race the same way I always have. But to keep the streak alive, I've run on days when it definitely would have made more sense to take the day off. For example, I probably didn't need to run the day after the marathon in October, and I probably would have benefited from trading some of those 11 p.m. runs for an extra hour of sleep. Oh well.
I feel like I could remember every one of my runs if I tried, although some stick out more than others:
I remember running ninety minutes in a snow storm with Terry and Tyler, doing loop after loop following a snow plow around the campus of Babson College. It seemed to snow every weekend for a month, and every weekend we faithfully observed the ritual of the long run.
I remember running in a downpour one late afternoon in April, and coming across the deserted turf fields at Concord-Carlisle High School. Already drenched, I was seized by inspiration and took my shoes off and suddenly a dull and joyless obligation became a barefoot frolic. If anyone happened to see me that day, I am sure they thought I was quite insane.
I remember returning from the New England Prep School XC Championships a month ago, trying to decide whether sprinting back and forth around the course all afternoon watching my runners "counted" as a run, concluding that it didn't, and after saying goodnight to the team, slipping away to the Concord track to run three quiet miles in the dark. When I was done, I lay on my back in the middle of the deserted track, and looked up into the starry night for some time before I got cold and decided it was time to go home.
A lot of memories, mostly good. But now I'm about ready to end this thing. I hope I get to do it on my own terms, but there are obstacles remaining. On December 24th, I'll be departing with my family on a trip to Tanzania to visit Joni. Running that day and the next will be tough. Joni tells me that while we're in Arusha, I'll be able to run as long as I don't mind people pointing at me and yelling, but that from December 28th on when we're in the national parks, the only option is to run tiny loops within the perimeter of the campgrounds. In other words, it's strictly forbidden to assert the right to become lion food.
On those days, I'll try to get my three miles done by running in small circles. Joni says it will be like running 35 laps in the old SOA -- if, that is, the SOA had no walls or ceiling, was plagued by malarial mosquitoes, and was in the middle of the Serengeti. In other words, I might not be able to do my runs, but I'm hopeful and I'm stubborn.
If I'm still alive and the streak is intact, I'd also like to run on New Year's Day because I hate the idea of starting a new year with a day off, but on January 2nd, I'm not going to run, even if I feel like it.
Speaking of stubborn, about the only thing I can point to as a "learning experience" from this streak is that running every day has allowed me to cultivate a whole new level of stubbornness of which I'm becoming immodestly proud. It's pretty funny how it manifests itself in trivial things. For example, only a few nights ago I had another day of non-stop obligations that forced me to head out the door at 9 p.m. for one of my freezing late-night three milers. About two miles into my run, one of my shoelaces came untied. Instead of giving in to the shoelace and stopping to re-tie it, I thought to myself "I am NOT stopping to to tie a @#&*ing shoelace on a three-@#&*ing mile run," and I didn't. I ran the rest of the way with the shoelaces flopping and the shoe threatening to become dislodged from my foot. For one mile on the deserted streets of West Newton it was me against a piece of footwear.
I finished my run with the shoe still in place, stubbornness rewarded.
December 05, 2010
Five in a Row for Fayetteville-Manlius
I've been to Fayetteville and driven through Manlius, and believe me, there's nothing about those towns that would lead you to mistake them for the Rift Valley. So how can it be that an ordinary town in Central New York produces the very best high school cross-country teams in the country year after year?
In case you missed yesterday's Nike Cross Country Nationals, the F-M girls won their fifth straight national title with a record low score of 27 points, while the F-M boys finished second. (You can watch a replay of the webcast here).
If you're curious about the F-M team and its philosophy, I highly recommend listening to an in-depth interview that Letsrun.com did in April with Bill Aris, the team's coach. You can read the transcript of the interview, but listening is better.
Letsrun Track Talk with Bill Aris - April 10, 2010
If, however, you're wondering about "the secret," you're going to be disappointed. As hard as it is to believe, the evidence suggests that with F-M you have to begin with the philosophy and if you can accept that, then admit that the training probably isn't the reason the team is so successful.
Here's a representative quote from Aris from the beginning of the Letsrun interview:
"We start with the athlete's mind and their heart. And people think, 'Well, he's sandbagging again, he doesn't want to talk about workouts.' [but] that's not true... We try to find out what makes a kid tick. We talk to them, we spend time with them, we ask them - this is in advance of any serious running - and find out what motivates them and what they aspire to do and achieve, even if [...] they're not runners yet. OK. And our emphasis is on getting them to see what we may perceive as their potential. And when they see it and they invest of themselves or, as they say, buy into it, then the rest of it's easy. You know, everybody talks about the training, and yeah, certainly training [is] essential. I mean, you can't just run fast on waking up in the morning and having a good attitude. But the fact is, you've got to believe in what you're doing. You've got to believe and trust your coaches. You've got to believe in the aim and the purpose of your program philosophy, and that's really what it's all about."
I don't know how the following anecdote relates to F-M's overall philosophy, but there was a moment at the end of yesterday's race that struck me powerfully and made me reach for a piece of paper to write down what I had just heard.
It is at about 20 minutes into the girls race, and half the runners have crossed the finish line. Most are absolutely spent and some have collapsed on the gold wet grass. It is already clear that F-M has won in a rout. Their top three runners have finished 2nd, 4th, and 6th overall (1st, 2nd, and 4th in team scoring). Their fourth and fifth runners have finished in the top thirty. It is an absolutely dominating performance, and these five girls, who have just given everything to this cold, wet, windy, muddy five kilometers, are beginning to celebrate.
That's when we hear the voice of Bill Aris, cutting through all the cheering and excitement in the finishing chute. He sounds a little angry as he tells his girls "You've got two more coming. We're not a FIVE-man team. Let's go!" And five-sevenths of the best HS team in the country walk back towards the finish line to wait for and cheer in their sixth and seventh runners.
December 04, 2010
Must Watch XC: Nike Cross Nationals Today
If last year was any indication, this year's streaming of the 2010 Nike Cross Nationals meet will provide the best live coverage of a cross country meet you've ever seen. I recommend getting your run in early, clearing out your schedule, and sitting down at your computer to watch the boys and girls races, beginning at 1 p.m. EST. and available from the following link
Live coverage of NXN on Runnerspace
In 2009, NXN restored my faith that cross country was a viable spectator sport for TV or Internet viewing. Two weeks before NXN, the Versus network had butchered the 2009 NCAA Div I XC championships with incompetent coverage and inane post-race commentary, so I wasn't expecting much. Instead, the NXN webcast was superb, serving up vital background information on the teams and individuals and riveting commentary and live team score updates as the race developed.
(NXN Shows How To Cover a XC Meet - 12/6/09)
Several teams have represented Massachusetts at the national meet over the last few years, including Brookline (boys), Lincoln-Sudbury (girls), Newton South (girls) and Bishop Feehen (girls). This year, Mass is represented by Pembroke H.S., who earned their berth in the national championships by finishing second in the Northeast Regional, and by Weymouth's Steve Sollowin, who qualified as an individual.
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