It’s not the training that’s tough

There is a selfish luxury to being able to train hard. I used to envy the lives of elite athletes who could justify planning their days and lives around their workouts and recovery. Although now that I look back through the lense of age, I can see that I used to live a life not too far off theirs. At least intermittently (I wasn’t always the most consistent trainer). However, there were times when I would look forward to going to bed early and eating a good dinner in preparation for a long, hard workout the next day. I’d wake up and ease into it, fueling with coffee, breakfast and the newspaper. Then, mentally and physically ready, I would hit the road and really give everything I had to my workout. I would leave nothing behind, and come back home exhausted and content, and in much need of a day filled with napping, refueling, and generally recovering. I recall specifically when I was training for the Ironman in 2004 I had some weekend morning workouts consisting of a 2 hour indoor training ride of hard intervals, followed by a 9 mile run with 3 x 10 minutes at tempo pace. I would finish those workouts so depleted that I’d spend the rest of the day on the couch. Reading and napping was all I had energy for.

My ideal afternoon after a hard workout

My ideal afternoon after a hard workout

These days I may have the mental and physical energy to complete a tough workout like that, but the recovery piece is glaringly absent. As soon as I get in the door from a run, I am in demand. I’m lucky if I can grab a quick shower and snack before dealing with kids’ needs, although often I start cleaning up a mess and making food for people before I have a chance to strip off my wet clothes. And then our day begins with various adventures on bikes, in pools, to museums or zoos. I can do these things (and even enjoy them) with a smile on my face if I’m a little tired. But I can’t manage it if I’m in the pit of exhaustion that extremely hard workouts induce. When I’m in that state, if one thing other than a nap is requested of me I turn into a bear and snap and rage, and no amount of coffee can make me human. My kids who are often faced with a happily endorphined mom who probably lets more slide than she should, are suddenly faced with the opposite extreme as I come close to tears when requested to fix a “bumpy sock” for the tenth time, and lose it when someone spills juice on the floor. I just don’t have the energy to deal.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining. I signed up for this parent gig and I love it. I just have to be mindful of my post-workout energy reserves these days, and make sure there is enough leftover after a workout. I’m careful not to go over the edge because the consequences if I do are way too hard on me and my family. Do I miss the feeling of working out that hard? Maybe a bit. But I’d never trade it for the feeling of sharing laughs and adventures with my family.

Knee deep in post-long run adventures

Knee deep in post-long run adventures

A little self hate goes a long way in running

Are runners generally happy people? Maybe after their runs. My anecdotal evidence tells me that many of us are self-medicating through running. Recently a friend was talking to another friend asking how she pushes herself so hard in workouts and why she herself couldn’t seem to. The friend’s reply: “you just don’t hate yourself enough”. I totally get it. Usually I need a little bit of self-imposed suffering in order to feel balanced.

This isn’t always the case with me, but mostly it is. There have been times in my life when I’ve felt generally at ease and happy. Usually these times coincide with vacations (coincidence?) which is why I think it’s so hard to keep up training while on vacation. When I’m not feeling anxious or a little unhappy with myself I can go for runs. I really enjoy them. But I don’t run extra hard or extra far. I don’t feel the urge, so I don’t do it. I’m reminded of the line from the Barenaked Ladies song which goes, “she’s like a baby, I’m like a cat. When we are happy we both get fat.”

Happy Fat Cat

Happy Fat Cat

Some people seem to tolerate pain better than others, and we know that that tolerance can be trained. You can learn to accept pain. But why would you? There is definitely a subset of people who relish the “cleansing” or “absolving” nature of self-flaggelation on the roads, track or hills for purposes other than simply running a fast time in their next race. The race is actually just a socially acceptable way to justify our need for ritualistic masochism.

This is just a better tool ...

This is just a better tool …

... than this

… than this

So the question lies – if you’re a generally happy person who doesn’t hate yourself enough to train hard enough for that next PB, how can you harness this secret power? My running buddies and I had a good laugh about that the other day. Want to run faster? Try bombing a big presentation OR pick a fight with a loved one where you’re clearly in the wrong OR binge out on all your kids Halloween candy when they’re in bed. Whatever will make you feel guilty enough to dig a little deeper on that extra mile repeat the next day. I’m not sure if you can replicate the exact same twisted torment of self-hate that plagues the hardest working runners, but worth a try, right?

Run Parenting

I’m a runner. I’m also a mom. I’ve been a runner for over 25 years. I’ve been a mom for just over 8 years. I could write many books over on running. I don’t think I will ever feel like I’m “doing it right” in parenting. And that is why it is so hard to know what to do when these worlds collide.

I would love it if my two kids (6 and 8) decided they would like to go for runs with me and train for races. I can do that! In fact we have gone for the odd run together, mostly with great results, but the truth is, going for runs really isn’t their thing right now. They’d rather be playing on the monkey bars or skateboarding in the ally, and to be honest, as long as they’re doing something they love and are getting exercise, I don’t really care. In fact, I truly believe that being a great runner in elementary school has very little bearing on whether they will be good, or more importantly whether they will enjoy it, when they’re older. I cannot make them train, I cannot make them love it and I cannot make them want to do well in a race. The only thing I can do is mess it up by putting pressure or expectations on them.

A few months ago my 6 year-old’s best friend decided she wanted to train for and run a kids’ fun run. If her friend was in, so was my daughter. I asked her a few times whether she wanted to go for a jog with mommy to get ready and she always said ‘no thanks’. The race was 1K so I knew she could complete it – it would just be more of a challenge than if she’d trained. So be it – I’ve entered races under-trained as well. The result was she ran it, was shocked by how hard it was, but was happy with her t-shirt and medal. And that was it. No “what was my time?” No “I want to do better next time” It was purely a one-time experienced influenced by peer pressure. But I was proud and excited for her.

Going for it in her first ever race

Going for it in her first ever race

The next weekend my 8 year-old’s best friend was running a 5K which he’d been training quite seriously for. My son decided he wanted to do it with him. Again, my guy had decided not to train, despite many offers by me to do so with him. He did not want to train but he was determined to race. I had absolutely no idea how it would play out. I decided it could be a disaster but at least it would be a great life lesson. It wasn’t a disaster; he stuck with his friend until the last kilometer where he fell a bit behind, but tried his hardest and ran the whole way finishing in just over 27 minutes. Again, I was proud at his determination and work ethic in the race. Mostly I loved how happy he was afterwards and how great he said he felt.

Feeling great after his first 5K

Feeling great after his first 5K

The school cross-country race is tomorrow. They both say they’re competing although my younger one goes back and forth and it will depend on whether her friends are. Mostly she wants the morning off school. My son is also doing it with his group of friends, although I think he’s a little more personally invested. I’m trying my hardest to remain impartial. They can go if they want. Of course I really want them to go and really want them to try hard and have great races! But I have to remember I only want this for them. I love it when they feel confident and great. Just because my vehicle for these feelings is running doesn’t mean theirs will be. Chances are they’ll find completely different outlets and sources of confidence and I will try to cheer and care as much about those (skateboard tricks? moves on the monkeybars?) as I do about the results of running races. In the end, the only way they will ever love anything is if they are doing it for themselves – not to please someone else. And there is nothing I can do but sit back and watch.