I almost never wear tights or sweats to run in the winter.  I just don’t.  Haven’t since I can recall.  There are two reasons why…

First, when I was in college, I realized that the more money I spent on laundry, the less I would have for sustenance.  Soooooo, shirts got worn multiple times, sweatshirts were worn outside in, then inside out.  And even on the coldest days at the Haven (Lock Haven University, my alma mater), I wore shorts (probably three times before laundering).  “Will Shearer have a shirt on today?  It’s 46 out.”  Probably not. 

The second reason is simple, my legs get hot quickly.  Within 4-6 minutes of the start of any warm-up, I want to shed the threads.  Remember, everything is an experiment of one, so your results may vary.

I do have some limits on the above-mentioned lack-of-leggings.  Below 20, IF there is a wind, causes some issues for my muscles and cramping.  Below 10, if there is no wind, is also a bit chilly, depending on the distance of the run.

So why am I bringing up my personal lack-of-fashion sense?  Or any sense for that matter?  I do not like this time of year, and here’s why.  A week ago, there were days when the temps were below 30, and windy.  And, a week ago, there were days when the temps were above 50, and calm.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

How does the average runner handle the changing of the seasons?  Recent years, these seasonal changes have seemed more abrupt that I can recall in my younger days.  Fall doesn’t seem like that drastic of a shift, but this springtime stuff… wear gloves, don’t wear gloves.  Where’s my hat?  Don’t need a hat.  Bring a hat but carry the hat. 

Most runners look forward to that first day of spring training, when they no longer need to don the windbreaker, third layer, running tights, thermal socks, etc… and they can feel the warming breeze on their face.  And most runners, me included, do not look forward to having to go back into the running drawer to find the cold-weather clothing that we recently put away for the year, thinking the 50+ degree days were here to stay.

Back in 1999, I was hired to direct a race in Delaware County for the local community college.  It was a 5k fund-raiser for the alumni association and was to be held the first weekend in April.  Preregistration numbers approached 220 and we expected over 300 on race day.  What a great day this way going to be!  Except…

Race morning, we awoke to 8 inches of snow and temps in the mid-20s.  Unexpected, too (where’s Cecily Tynan when you need her?).  At 4 am I was informed the campus was closed and the race canceled.  NOOOOOOO!!!  Most of Delco was under driving restrictions.  Now, here’s the funny part… that afternoon, temps rose to 52 degrees, it was sunny and pleasant.  As I fielded phone calls from unhappy athletes, I found myself directing them to a 5k being held in Philly that same afternoon along the Schuylkill River.  Needless to say, they had a great turnout. 

Spring weather can be unpredictable, fickle, and sometimes downright maddening.  Just be prepared for the swings and mentally know, if you think it’s done, it’s probably not done.  Oh, and don’t use me as a guide for what to wear, laundry ain’t cheap.

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

Runners are often cautioned about pacing themselves in workouts and races.  “Don’t go out too fast.”  “Save something for the end.”  “Run an even pace.”  Those are all regularly heard statements from coaches, magazines and peers about races, workouts and even the regular 5-mile run.

But once in a while I say, “Throw caution to the wind; let your hair down (no jokes!) and GO FOR IT!” 

Most runners know April as the month of the Boston Marathon.  I have had the opportunity and joy of running in three Boston races in my life.  My first was in 1987, when I finished in 2 hours 47 minutes.  In 1988 I returned to running it in 2 hours 48 minutes.  Both of those races stand out to me as great experiences and good races.  However, both times I barely cracked the top 500 finishers. 

In 1991 I returned, fully intent on pushing my limits and going for broke.  Boston, being a downhill course, often leads runners to go out a bit faster than they should, leading to a survivor shuffle the last 5-6 miles.  At 10 miles, I had already equaled my all-time 10-mile race time, and by the half-way point, I was secure on my ticket to the broom wagon.  By 20 miles (Heartbreak Hill), I was done and had been placed on the T for transport back to the finish line; race-bib removed, humbled and fully exhausted. 

So what was the point?  I learned something about my limits and what I could and could not accomplish, based on my training, my experience and where I was in my non-running life.  In other words, I needed to reset expectations so that future training would be improved as would my chance of success. 

I’ve often run and raced with people who never learn that lesson about training and racing expectations.  A good friend from years ago used to race ‘crash and burn’ style every single time.  His reason?  “I don’t need one more sub-16 5k.  I’m looking for the sub-15 5k.”  He was searching for that perfect day for his breakthrough.  His error, however, was that he was always searching and never learning.

In both training and racing, the concept of even pacing and saving something for the end is usually a good approach.  But there are times when putting the pedal down well past your comfort zone can help teach you about limits and realities.  Maybe you’ll learn you can go faster or further than you ever thought possible.  Maybe it’s time for you to blow by that caution tape! 

Runners need to give themselves permission to fail sometimes.  How many versions of the lightbulb did Edison create before he found the one that worked?   Well, he started in 1878 and didn’t file the patent until late 1879, so I’d imagine it was more than three.  Of course, due to some legal wranglings it wasn’t until 1889 that his patent stood. 

I suspect it won’t take you 11 years to perfect your efforts, but to risk success you also have to risk failure, particularly if you are in a race rut.  The ‘how do I get faster’ question is pretty easy to answer, but it often sounds rather flippant to just say ‘try to run faster’. 

Try these – run the first mile of a race 10-15 seconds faster than usual and see how long you can hold on.  Practice running downhill somewhere (okay, so Middletown isn’t exactly chock-full of gravity killers).  Add 10 minutes to your next long run (I’d recommend doing this one with someone or on a shorter loop course).  The point is to push past the comfort zone and see where your body and mind can take you.  And always remember to recover afterwards. 

You never know when your running lightbulb will go off unless you flip the switch a time or two.  I usually counsel that a cautious, patient approach leads to success.  But occasionally, let your hair down and go for it.  Your breakthrough may be just around the next corner. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

As we all stood at the starting line, the race director (bullhorn in hand) began his traditional pre-race banter.  “6-minute milers only in the front”.  “The course is marked with white arrows on the road”.  “There will be two commands”.  And a few other remarks as well.  It could have been ANY race ANY where.  But it was HERE!

The ‘here’ was Rehoboth Beach and the event was a tradition in which I have partaken off and on (mostly on) since 1992.  It’s about as far away a destination race while remaining in Delaware as I can get over the Halloween weekend.  To me, Seawitch is ‘the bomb’.  And my family not only approves but usually partakes as well. 

The growth of the destination race began many years ago with the advent of a group out of Boston known as Marathon Tours.  Marathon Tours specialized in vacation packages for the runner-types to places like Dublin, Bermuda, Hawaii and Antarctica (yeah, even the penguins have a marathon).  The concept was simple; to open the possibilities of running in far-away places while providing a top-notch vacation and race experience. 

The destination race has expanded the world of possibilities while at the same time shrinking the globe to a manageable size for us mortals who don’t have a sports agent booking our next flight to run in Dubai.  Hanoi, South Africa, The Great Wall of China, and more have all become accessible to runners and their families.  I mean, who wouldn’t want to race across the Serengeti with zebras and wildebeests as a part of the fan zone?  

There are hundreds of destination events now, both domestic and foreign.  And many races offer their own booking services to access the event and the accompanying holiday.  By the way, I was recently shot down (temporarily) as I angled for a crack at a 10k in Havana. 

Destination events don’t have to take on the super insane or the far-away either.  Seawitch is a perfect example of a destination race that also provides a great two-day family festival.  It’s more than just the race.  There are all sorts of festivals across the country that also have associated races. 

Back in 1999, my bride and I travelled to Davenport, Iowa for the 25^th annual Bix 7.  Bix is an awesome mid-summer race (complete with Kenyans) along the shores of the Mississippi, but it’s also a weekend-long jazz festival.  We ran the race, along with just over 20,000 other runners, then hung out and listened to the sounds in downtown Davenport.  If you’re a jazz-lovin’ runner, I highly recommend the Bix. 

Finding a destination race is easier than you think.  In fact, I’d suggest figuring out where it is you want to go first, THEN looking over the race options.  You may need to be flexible when you travel in order to mix the event with the vacation.  While honeymooning in Iceland in 1995, we found a 10k race and both had the experience of racing overseas in an exotic destination.   I’m not sure we would have just gone for the race, but it was a great addition to an otherwise outstanding adventure.

Running websites and magazines, as well as travel sites and such are all great resources to locate that destination race of choice, whether it’s here or there.  I think I saw the Havana race advertised in AAA magazine. 

So get adventurous, grab a world globe and play that game we all used to play when we were kids – spin it as fast as you can, then stick your finger on spinning globe and voila!  There’s your next destination race location.  Hopefully it won’t be some atoll out in the Pacific.  I did say ANY where, I guess…

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails.

Three questions.  It’s a simple concept but one that can elicit a whole lot of information in a short, succinct way (or a War and Peace sort of way).  Three questions, when they are the right questions, can tell you almost everything you want to know about a subject, from the whys to the wherewithal.  I like ‘wherewithal’…  Whomever came up with the word, kudos to you.

So what are the right three questions to ask a runner?  Recently, the Middletown Athletic Club started a newsletter segment entitled “Three Questions”, in an attempt to get to know one another a little bit better. 

The three questions asked of each subject often opens a whole world of follow-up questions that, hopefully, will give you or me or anybody talking points for the next time you get a chance to run with one of the subjects.  OR it can lead to you asking a fellow runner who you may not know very well these same three queries. 

For the MAC newsletter, the three questions asked of each subject are 1. When/why did you start running?  2. What is your favorite running event/memory?  3. What piece of advice would you share with a fellow runner?

Running is by nature a solitary pursuit.   Allan Sillitoe’s ‘The Loneliness of the long distance runner’ is a must-read (as is ‘Once a Runner’ by John Parker, but for different reasons).  Sillitoe’s work illustrates what many feel like when out on their own, in the elements of heat, cold, rain, wind, etc… 

But add a partner, any partner, to your daily 5 and see how the miles fly by!  In my years of running, I can count on two hands the number of people with whom I regularly enjoy running.  Sorry to those who didn’t make the list. I still like you, and probably occasionally enjoy plodding miles with you, but I’m a follower of Sillitoe.  To me, there’s nothing lonely about it.

Back to the three questions… it’s often nice to run with someone new, and I challenge you (and myself) to start doing that more frequently.  The superficial nature of the questions can oftentimes bring about deeper conversation and connections among people who otherwise wouldn’t connect.  Think about it… other than work, church and the local watering hole, where do we connect with people?  25-30 years ago, people connected through work, church and bars.  Today, people connect cyberly.  I’m not sure about you, but cyberly kinda sucks these days. 

My three question answers?  Well, I never thought you’d ask.

1.  I started running in high school, as a sophomore looking for a place to fit in.  My friend Mike dragged me to the first day of cross country practice (Monday, August 15, 1978) and I’ve been a runner ever since.
2. My favorite memory would be running the Hood to Coast Relay in Oregon in 2015.  I was invited to join a team of 50-somethings for the 200 mile team relay from the 11,000 foot-high Mount Hood to the Pacific Ocean.  We placed 26^th out of 1,100 teams.  My favorite race would be the 1987 Boston Marathon (my first Boston). 
3. My one piece of advice would be to make connections with other runners.  We are a friendly group as a whole, and although I prefer to do most of my running alone, I prefer to hang out with runners.  They are inclusive, empathetic and real. 

I hope you have the wherewithal and the mindset to make those connections.  They can be life-altering and loneliness-killing. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

In early November, the running community of New Castle County, Delaware, gathers in mass at Winterthur (pronounced WIN-ter-tour, for the uninitiated) for the annual New Castle County Cross Country Championship meet. In one day, there are multiple race events featuring middle schoolers, high schoolers (varsity and junior varsity squads) and, as my son likes to call us, Geezers. The unique 5,000m course is a double loop, rolling, all-grass event that trods where horses often trod. Fortunately, competitors do not have to navigate over the wooden barriers like the horsies, although a few have tried during the practice day tour. There are several things that make this event a truly unique and exciting event. First, spectators are treated to perhaps the best viewing experience in all cross country, at least in my 46+ years of experience. With little effort (and I mean LITTLE), one can see racers a minimum of four times. None of that ‘well, they’re in the woods now, let’s go get a hot dog. This event also features every county school, from the small to the big, from private to public, in one race. In my estimation, it is slightly more competitive than the state championship, which breaks schools up into one of two divisions in Delaware. And it’s a great show because it includes 6th, 7th and 8th grade competitors as well. They get their own featured races! Then, there’s the Old-timer’s race. What constitutes an old-timer (or Geezer)? Any alum, coach, parent, friend of, or interested party. There’s no entry fee, the course is the same as the other races (no steeple barriers), and the real stars of the day (middle and high school athletes) get the chance to watch post-high school commitment in action. I’ve had the opportunity to run the Old-timer’s race a few times. Let me preface it by saying, NEVER take cross country lightly. I’ve raced the mile and I’ve raced the marathon, but until you’ve raced cross country, you’ve not really raced. Time is meaningless. It’s about challenging yourself and, as I tell my teams, beating people. This year, I broke 24 minutes on the Winterthur course. It’s a far cry from my younger ‘less-old-timer self’. And for those 24 minutes, nothing was comfortable. But the nature of the Winterthur course means there’s no hiding from fans and spectators and spouses and even other athletes. It’s amazing how many of my ‘pump your arms’, ‘eyes up’, ‘work the downhill’ statements I heard parroted back at me. Am I really that obnoxious when I encourage others? I cannot recommend this event enough, even if you are just a passive ‘weekend 5k racer’. You don’t have to race it, but parking is free, the terrain is beautiful and to me, there’s no better place to be on a crisp fall day than outdoors, watching youth run with passion… and perhaps a few old-timers hammering it out, too. Just make sure you pronounce the name of the park properly. They may not let you in if you don’t. I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails.  

It’s racing season and you know what that means!  You don’t?  Well then… read on!   

If you’re a runner, most likely you’ve entered a race or two in your life.  We runners tend to think that races just happen.  ‘Put on a race’ is a funny way of looking at it, I suppose, but races aren’t just ‘put on’.  Even the most basic of low frills fun runs entail more details than most of us would ever suspect.  But in 2024, if you’re planning to ‘put on’ a race, let me help you get cerebral for a minute or two.

There are two important variables to consider – the runner’s experience and the sponsor’s experience.  Oftentimes, race directors think of the runner and whether this will be something they’d run.  But they overlook the sponsors that foot the bill for most of the event costs.  If it’s a good runner’s experience event, race fees generally won’t cover the costs of ‘putting on’ the event. 

A race through a runner’s eyes includes things like course layout, entry cost, giveaways, competition, date and time, post-race fare, location, and safety.  And that’s just scratching the surface (porta-potties are high on that list, by the way, but please don’t scratch that surface). 

A race through a sponsor’s eyes includes marketing visibility, publicity, charitable connections, amount of investment, return on that investment and event sustainability. 

Even a good low-frills event needs to consider everything a runner would look for in an event.  I’ve directed some pretty low-cost racing events in year’s past and with the ‘to be expected’ low turnout.  Free doesn’t always mean better.  Who wants to run a cross country race in January through 8 inches of snow?  I mean, other than me. 

In almost all cases, the race location and race date will play a major role in who shows up.  Course parade permits from municipalities may hinder or limit where the course is run.  Is the course accurately measured or did you stick a wheel out of a car window and drive ‘about 3.1 miles’?  Will the race be held on the same weekend as a more established event that draws 2,000 runners every year?  It’s nearly impossible to find a unique race date but avoiding the biggies certainly can help with turnout.

Who’s in charge of timing the event?  You know us runners are intense about two things – course accuracy and our time.  Chip timed or hand timed?  How many volunteers will be working in the finish chute?  Or on the course as marshals?  Speaking of marshals, how well is course marked and are those marshals well instructed on just where the course goes?  Will there be water or sports drinks handed out during the race and/or afterwards?   

Your sponsors may want access to your database, as well as be in a high-profile location at packet pickup and race day.  Are there signs and tables?  A good charitable connection oftentimes helps with the feel-good side of a marketer’s experience.  Too many for-profit ventures are getting into the racing scene and forgetting that runners and sponsors alike see community as a part of this racing experience. 

I’ve been involved in some very good race experiences as runner, sponsor and race director.  I’ve also been involved in some really bad ones. Ever come to a four-way intersection with no course markings and no marshal there to direct?  Oh, and there was no course map provided, either.  How about a 2.5 mile ‘5k’?  And what do you mean there are no race numbers or safety pins?  I paid $65 for this? 

‘Putting on a race’ requires logistics, time, a good committee and patience.  Races don’t just happen.  Here’s a big ‘thank you’ to those who undertake any part of planning a race on behalf of those of us who run in those races.  It’s racing season and now you know what that means! 

It has been an odd spring of fluctuating temperatures and conditions.  Put the flannel away, get the flannel out.  Put the gloves away, get the gloves out.  Now I’m no meteorologist but I do know running, and I think I can safely say that summertime means summer running and summer running means warm temperatures and conditions. 

This spring has made it difficult to acclimate to the rising mercury and humidity.  We have traded in wind chills for heat indices.  Most experts will tell you it takes three to four weeks to acclimate properly to seasonal changes, whether it be cold or warm.  The body is, after all, a creature of habit. 

There are some really good tips to bear in mind as you prepare for the heat of summer training that I have predicted above (bet I’m right, too).  Increasing your fluid intake, wearing lighter colored clothing, running or walking in the earlier part of the day or later part of the day, and even reducing your pace can help you acclimate to warmer weather and help you exercise safely.  But remember, it does take time and patience!

Back in 2000, the women’s Olympic marathon trials were scheduled to be held in Columbia, South Carolina in late February.  Even South Carolina can be uncomfortable in the winter.  Race day was warm and humid and not conducive to fast racing.  The majority of race favorites had to contend with cold-weather training (it WAS winter). 

But one unlikely athlete, Christine Clark of Alaska (Alaska – now THERE’S a great place to train for a warm-weather race) trained almost exclusively indoors on a treadmill.  Treadmill running isn’t the same as road running, but it’s much better than no running.  Christine trained in a constant 70-degree environment, which just happened to be the temperature in Columbia, South Carolina on race day.  As the 22^nd seeded runner, Christine Clark won the race and was the sole U.S. representative that year for the women’s Olympic Marathon.  Talk about being properly climate-ready!

She was ready for the weather because she was used to the conditions.  Most runners just train for the race.  In her case, she trained for the race, for the weather, for the necessary fluid and carbohydrate intake and even the terrain, using the treadmill’s elevation program.  Famous Kenyan marathoner Juma Ikangaa once said, “The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare.”

In 2001, I prepared for my 25^th Marathon like most runners do; lots of running.  I averaged 60-70 miles a week from October through December, then tapered.  My race of choice that year was Bermuda, a great destination marathon and a nice treat for #25.  However, November and December were cold in Delaware, and race day in Hamilton, Bermuda dawned warm and steamy. 

By the halfway point, temps had already eclipsed 70 and were headed higher.   I should have used the lesson of Christine Clark the year before but I did not.  I think everyone should see the ER of a hospital in a foreign country, don’t you?  Lesson learned.  And ask my wife about my organ donor card. 

Take time to prepare and acclimate to the warmer temps and higher humidity ahead.  Start now!  Slow it down a bit, dress appropriately (invest in some cool-max or other high tech apparel), increase your fluid intake some and add some diluted sports drinks, avoid high temps until you are ready for them and of course, don’t forget the sunblock!  Running in the summer can be enjoyed – at any temperature, but only if you’ve prepared for it. 

“So Shearer, why are you running 10 miles today?”  That’s not a question I think I’ve ever had to answer.  In 45+ years as a runner, for the most part I’ve always known that every run has a purpose.  Let’s see if I can answer this. 

I’ll be candidly honest here… I have not enjoyed running much the past 30 months or so.  There have been days that I downright hated it, dreaded it, and attempted to avoid it.  It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love with the act of running but rather I’d fallen out of love for MY running. 

A few years ago, I experienced a rather nasty knee injury.  Oddly, the injury did not stem from running, racing or anything resembling my chosen activity.  It was a freak accident that took a few weeks to manifest itself into a debilitating pain that could not be overlooked.  You just know when you know, so off to the surgeon for a diagnosis that left me with few options.  The surgery took place October 2021. 

According to all accounts, the procedure went the way it was supposed to go.  Unfortunately, the time frame for recovery did not.  3 to 6 months became 6 to 12 months became ‘up to two years.’  I was permitted to run to tolerance (HA! If you know, you know).   My Why for running had remained intact up to that point.  It was my ability that had taken the hit.  And as the ability waned, the Why became blurry. 

Recently I was reminded of the Why comment from several of my former athletes and running partners.  One in particular had all but given up her on racing career.  As she put it, “I hated it.  Everything about it.”  She reached out and we chatted a bit.  “Remember your Why, Shearer.  You used to say that all the time.”  I didn’t come up with the saying, but it had stuck with her.  I counseled her to go back to her Why and perhaps seek a different pathway.  Thus far, it appears she has reignited her passion for the daily 5. 

Hmmmm, so maybe it’s time I looked back at that Why again and see where it takes me.  In the past 30 months or so, I’ve reluctantly continued to train and run.  I still seek out racing opportunities.  I read about the sport, I follow the sport, heck I even coach the sport.  Why? 

As I passed the two-year mark in my knee recovery last October, I started mentally and physically changing my approach.  I Cross train a lot more than I ever did before.  I’ve started stretching more frequently and incorporated strength training (no, I am not ‘buff’).  My 1^st mile of any run resembles a slow trot rather than a quick saunter.  I spend 10-15 minutes twice a week doing yoga.  And training paces have become irrelevant to me. 

I am now able to maintain 20-24 miles a week on a regular basis.  There is still discomfort, the occasional extra day off because I overdid it, and the frustration of not really being able to plan a solid ‘training block’.  But the enjoyment is slowly returning.

So why did I run 10-miles that day?  My answer was pretty simple… because I could. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

Thoughts on the Run – How do your feet know what they’re doing? :

“Stop looking at the ground.  Look ahead!”  “Use your arms!” “Eyes up, drive those knees!”  “Hips to lips.  Hips to lips!” 

Ever hear any of these lines being screamed at a race or track meet?  And have you ever noticed if it works, reminding the athlete what they should already know to be doing? 

Running forms are not universal.  Oh, there are some significant suggestions to be made, like from the list above, but really in the long run (see what I did there?), running form is somewhat unique to each individual runner. 

Just what is good running form?  Well, the definition is as varied as the forms themselves.  But here’s the basic gist of it – good running form is a form that allows you to locomote at a maximum speed, while using the least amount of energy.  Wasted movement takes away our ability to move forward while it eats up valuable oxygen in the process.  So, that definition gave you almost zero useful information, didn’t it.

Let’s try this.  A good running form is a form in which you are comfortable while you are running.  Not all individual forms are efficient, but (and here’s where it gets funky…) not all ‘significant suggestions’ are efficient for all runners.  Does that clear up the mud?

One of my former athletes was a pretty good cross country runner.  She sported a sub-20 5k time as a sophomore in college.   Most of her improvements had come without a real coaching presence, so I was excited to be able to work with her.  However, she had one of the worst running forms I’d ever seen.  It looked painful!

One day after practice, I asked her to stay back and work with me a bit with some one-on-one drills, in an attempt to give her some visual and auditory cues that might assist her with her swinging arm carriage, knock-knee drive, whip foot, hunch-backed… running form.  After a few minutes, I asked her one simple question, ‘So tell me about your injury history?’.  ‘Coach, I’ve never been injured.’  I probably should have started there. 

It became apparent I was trying to fix something that wasn’t really broken in the first place.  Her running form was extremely efficient for her body’s structure.  And a few tweaks here and there (‘eyes up’ for example) were the best I could hope for. 

When I was in my upper 20’s, I trained with a pretty zippy group of runners in Virginia.  Three of the club members were under the age of 20, while the other three of us were pushing 30.  One day we were working on forms when I asked Coach Mike (our advisor) to critique what he saw in me.  “I can’t fix it now, Shearer” was his response.  I was a bit hurt and surprised.  I knew better.

I do have a few form anomalies that I’ve worked on over the years and have seen an improvement in my efficiency as a result.  I used to look down quite a bit, wondering if my feet actually knew what they were doing. On a trail, that’s probably a pretty good cue.  On the roads, for the most part, they’re just fine on their own.  Oh, and looking ahead rather than down helps you cue in on your competitors who are trying to outdistance you. 

Form fixes take work, and as I have mentioned, are not always worth the energy expenditure for the return on the investment.  If you do have a hitch in your giddy-up that you wish to tweak, here are a few suggestions…

Ask someone to video you running (both from the side and from behind).  Or have someone watch you and offer up some observations (not suggestions… remember, form is still relatively unique).  ONLY work on one thing at a time and ONLY if it’s something that can help without sucking all the fun out of it.  And finally, be patient.  Form fixed take time, sometimes months or even years.

“Run tall.”  “Pump your arms.” “Breath through your mouth.”.  These are all great auditory cues, but only if you’ve worked on them.  Oh, and look up.  Trust your feet know what they’re doing. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

“I really shouldn’t be here”.  I kept uttering this to myself over and over again.  And to be honest, for once I was right.  I should not have been there in that mental state.

Where is there?  ‘There’ was the 2024 USA Track & Field Cross Country Championships.  There were seven races in one day, including junior nationals, the men’s & women’s open nationals (the races that select the U.S. representatives for the World Cross Country Championships), an all-comer’s race, and of course, the Master’s Championship (aka Geezer Nationals, or as one of my teammates put it, the race for team Advil).

The location was Richmond, VA, for a second straight year.  I ran in the 2023 championship meet and pleasantly surprised myself over the relatively flat 8k course.  The course was four loops, each being 2,000 meters (aka slightly boring after the 2^nd circuit).  And the 2024 event was coooooooold.  Temps were close to 36 with wind chills closer to 20.

“I’m not ready to do this”.  And about 3,000 meters into it, I proved myself right.  A couple of my faster friends had already dropped out, and a few others were actually within spitting distance.  But in my mind, I shouldn’t have started in the first place.  To be honest, it wasn’t a completely unpleasant race, but it was a CHAMPIONSHIP EVENT.  Of everyone over the age of 40, I placed 140^th out of about 170 finishers. 

Over the past year, I have struggled with consistent, pain-free running.  I’ve also struggled a bit with confidence and desire.  But mostly, I’ve just felt blah about the whole racing thing.  My routine of running 6 days a week just 20 years ago has morphed into three or four runs a week, two cycling days and two rowing machine days. 

As Master’s folks commiserate before race-time, conversation almost always runs through ‘what hurts on you these days?’.  Some of us lay it on thick and some of us downplay the ouchies and boo boos.  Some of us have given up completely and some of us are in denial.  And some of us are running like we’re 30 or 40 years younger. 

My stock response to all of this is usually ‘yeah but we’re still doing it’.  Denial.  If I have to be honest, I didn’t want to just be ‘still doing it’.  My friend Matt and I had this discussion just before the race.  His suggestion was spot-on.  He reminded me that every few years, no matter what age group you are in, you need to hit re-set and re-establish your ‘why’.  It is inevitable, even for the speediest among us.

So on a day that my mantra was ‘I really shouldn’t be here’, I probably needed to rephrase it a bit and say ‘I’m okay with not being able to run even what I ran last year, but I’m here’.  I might not have been race-ready, but after 45 years of running, I’m still a runner.  And we all need to remind ourselves of that every so often.  Hit re-set as you head out the door.

  

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails.