Running, Probably turns two
A look back with an eye on the future
Last week marked the two-year anniversary of the launch of Running, Probably. While I’d like to offer some grand sweeping vision of the future, I’m honestly just proud to have produced over 200 posts during the past two years. It’s been an honor to share my thoughts about running with all of you.
That said, RP has reached a pivotal point in its history. While our paid subscriber base has stayed relatively consistent over the last two years, it’s not enough to continue being my main focus. Without a bump in subscriber revenue, I’m not sure how much longer it can continue in its current incarnation.
If you’ve been on the fence about becoming a paid subscriber, now would be a good time to take the plunge. If you know a runner who’s looking to take the next step or someone who just needs a little motivation getting started, a paid subscription to RP makes a great holiday gift. (Lord knows we already have enough gear in our closets.)
This newsletter is geared toward runners of all abilities. Way back in our debut post, we made the point that the only barrier to becoming a runner is in our minds. Every time we head out the door, we are runners with our own paths to follow.
To be sure, RP offers a snapshot of my own journey from middle-aged schlub to ultra running badass. Yet, the goal is to take the lessons I’ve learned over thousands of miles and make them universal and accessible to everyone, regardless of age, pace, or distance.
Here are a few highlights from the past 12 months:
In January, we kicked off the new year with an introduction to base building. This is arguably the most important component in developing a regular running routine. While relatively simple, base building is a concept many runners choose to ignore (myself included for many years.)
Developed by Arthur Lydiard in the 1960s, base building emphasizes a slow, yet steady, buildup of mileage that prepares us for bigger, faster, and longer adventures in the weeks and months ahead.
If you think of training as a pyramid, as Lydiard did, base building represents the foundation with speed and strength (i.e. hills) layered on top, leading to a peak performance on race day. It doesn’t matter if you’re just getting started or want to set a new PR, base building is a vital part of every training process.
Base building is when your body adapts to the musculoskeletal demands of running, while increasing its aerobic capacity. That helps you burn energy more efficiently, which helps your endurance, and allows running to be performed in what Lydiard termed, “a tireless state.”
Running, Probably isn’t always about running (hence the word, probably). It’s also about getting outside, staying active, and trying new things. Even when they make us uncomfortable. Last winter, we took up cross country skiing as a family activity and it forced me to confront some of my deepest anxieties.
My fear of skiing is not something I like admitting about myself, nor is it something I enjoy sharing with others. But we’re friends here, and part of evolving as humans is acknowledging our weaknesses and trying to come to terms with them.
Enter cross country skiing. The activity appealed to me on a number of levels. In addition to being much, much slower than downhill, classic cross country skiing where you kick and glide is an aerobic powerhouse that’s a natural winter weather cross training complement for runners.
All that sounded great, but before I could even think about learning form or technique, I had to let go of my fear and trust myself.
One of my favorite things about running is that it allows me to enter a flow state. For some runners talk of flow may sound like goo-goo gibberish, but for those of us who have unlocked its mysteries, finding flow is the reason for the run itself.
Entering a flow state is about engaging with the present moment with such clear focus that you not only lose track of time, you lose track of yourself. It’s a conscious act of unconsciousness, or maybe it’s the other way around. An unconscious state of pure consciousness.
So yes, attaining a flow state can feel weird and mystical – where did that come from – or it can feel so normal that you’re not even aware you experienced it until after the fact. Like meditation or other concentration disciples, the harder you try to attain flow, the further away it becomes.
Yet, it’s not a passive experience. There’s an element of work involved before one gets to flow. Consistent deliberate practice over time leads to mastery of skill, which allows flow the opportunity to exist in a challenging environment. It doesn’t just conjure itself out of thin air.
In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, it can be easy to lose track of why we go to the trouble of getting out for our run. It’s a helpful exercise to offer periodic reminders to ourselves about why we do it.
I run because it’s honest. How fast or how far you run is dependent on a whole host of factors, many of which may be out of your control, but there’s no bullshit with running. You start in one place, finish in another, and that’s your run.
Over the years, it’s become clear to me that mental toughness is just as important for runners as physical fitness. Anyone can run when it’s easy. When the going gets hard, the real ones figure out ways to persevere.
The one thing that bonds runners across the spectrum is the existence of struggle miles. No matter how well-trained or fast we become, there’s going to be low points along the way.
What separates mentally tough runners from the pack is their ability to manage their emotions and redirect their thoughts. That allows them to turn negative situations into positive outcomes.
Mentally tough runners even look forward to the occasional sufferfest because they view those moments as an opportunity to train their brain, as well as their bodies.
In September, I achieved a breakthrough performance at the Vermont 50 with a top-25 finish in under 10 hours. That was cool, but what really made the race memorable was being able to reach deep inside my soul and push beyond the limits of perception.
In every race, no matter the distance, there is a moment of truth when everything is on the line. This moment has very little to do with time or place, even though both can be motivating factors. It has to do with what you have going on inside; how you view your performance, as well as yourself.
The moment arrives when the race becomes difficult and you are faced with a choice. Are you prepared to push forward no matter the cost, or will you give in mentally and surrender physically? This is when your race truly begins.
A few weeks after the race, I went out for a recovery run was with my 9-year-old. It was our first “real run” together and it was one of the most gratifying experiences I’ve had as a parent. A few observations/tips on running with kids.
Set expectations and a mindful pace: Before we started, I made it clear that blasting right out of the chute wasn’t going to help him run two miles. He’d have to follow my lead and stay patient. My goal was to find a pace where he felt comfortable, which happened to be around 12-minutes per mile.
Let them lead: Once we found our pace, I let him run a few strides in front. That allowed me to keep an eye on him for any signs of physical distress. It also empowered him to keep a steady pace without feeling like it was a competition.
Have fun, always: Did he jump and touch every low-hanging leaf on every tree? He did. Did he laugh and call me old man while pretending to sprint away from me? Absolutely. When it stops being fun, it’s time to stop.
Honestly, that sounds like great advice for runners of all ages. This newsletter is still fun to produce and I’d like it to continue. I’m grateful for all of your support over the last two years, and for whatever the future holds.
I am grateful for this community you’ve created!