The other day, a friend of mine asked me why their first mile was always the fastest, and why their last mile was always the slowest. I answered their question with one of my own: “When you count to 10, do you start at 10, or do you start at one?”
“One, obviously,” they said, not quite getting it yet.
“Then why would you start your run at 10, when there’s nowhere to go but down?” I asked.
They thought about that for a minute, shrugged, and said, “Yeah, but I like the way I run.”
Sure.
What I didn’t tell them is that I very seldom make it to 10, unless it’s on purpose. Most days I’ll cruise around five or six, and just kind of hang out there for a while. Sometimes, I’ll rev up to seven or eight, but I don’t tend to stay there very long. Either way, I always start each run over from the beginning, back at square one.
You can think about that 10-count scale as a means of measuring effort. Elite, highly-trained athletes don’t start their runs going as fast as they can. That would be dumb, for lack of a better word. My friend isn’t dumb, but their approach to running is certainly self-defeating.
When you start at the top end of your physical threshold, the best you can hope for is that you’ve built up enough endurance to hang on for dear life. When you start at the bottom end of your physical capacity, think of all that room you have to work with, and how far it can take you.