Tag Archive: coaching

All the pieces

My latest coaching gig began last night. It was the first night in a long time that I ran. If I think about it, it’s sort of embarrassing. I mean, to some extent I’m kind of an ambassador of sorts to the activity. And yet, there I was actually avoiding running for weeks. I was feeling a little bit shy to actually get out there. Well, shy or not, I just had to set that all aside. Compared to some of my previous clinics this is a relatively smaller one. All the same, I have to pump out the positivity. Every single bit matters, right?

On Monday night there was a really heavy dumping of snow in the Toronto area. By Tuesday the temperature rose well above freezing meaning that much of the snow had melted down into pools of slush on the sidewalks. During the run my clinic members gingerly sidestepped around everything. I tried to encourage them to just plow through the puddles. I set an example by doing so myself. I ended up with cold soaked shoes, but I didn’t mind. Nasty, but a good reminder about the joys of running through winter.

When I got back to the store, I got my street wear together and headed for the change room. As I sat down I started peeling off my cold socks. As I did my wrinkly shrivelled feet seemed to gasp for air. All of a sudden I had to just pause. I wasn’t about to cry or anything but I knew that there was a thought there that was begging for attention. I wasn’t really able to put it all together until I took a moment to focus. That’s when it finally came to me. The result was mildly melodramatic, but so damn eloquent. After my long absence from running, having done a run among everyone else at the store: I felt whole again.

Jason’s 2011

I really should have started writing this post a few days ago, but I didn’t feel like forcing myself to do it. The words weren’t flowing. Well, here I am on the final day of the year and I really need to get these words out. This year, 2011, was a bit of a harder one than the last. I remember declaring somewhere that it would be a year of buckling down and riding out tougher times. I was right. That’s not to say that this was a bad year for me. I’m just likely to label it as a challenging one. Did I rise to the challenges thrown at me? I think I did.

Anyway, enough blabber. In depth text follows…after the jump! Read the rest of this entry »

Swayed to teach

A couple of days ago I was at a restaurant up north of the city. I was meeting with a lot of my running buddies. We were having a Christmas drinks get together. All in all it was enjoyable. The bar was crowded at the time–there was a good energy permeating the place. It was there that a whole bunch of them were really trying hard to convince me to take on the next half marathon class. A few days prior to the party the store manager emailed me and asked if I was interested in taking on the class. I mean, I’ve done it three times before so I have a good sense of how things should go. All the same, there was a part of me that wanted to give it a pass. I wanted to take a break and focus on other things. I wasn’t sure what to do so I posted a question on Facebook asking my contacts for some guidance. The general response was that I had had enough rest and that I should accept. At the very least it would encourage me to at least continue running. Ever since my last race I’ve only gone for a run once. Terrible, eh? People have been telling me to get my ass back out there. I must say that I agree.

Anyway, back to the get together. That night so many people asked me to do it. They were all talking in positives. By the end of the night, I wasn’t entirely ready to commit but they really swayed me. Two days later I replied back to the manager and told him that I’d take it. There! Done deal! This class starts at the end of January. It’s far enough away that it satisfies my needs to get away for a while. What will be my goal for that class? I want to continue playing up the loud positive persona that I’ve taken up in my coaching duties. I want to stress to the class the idea of how both fast and slow people are worthy of respect. I want to continue making sure that I have contact with all people in the group despite the fact that I cannot move at a speed that would allow me to actually run with the front people. I’ve got so many ideas. Next year will be great.

Time to re-centre

We had a great turnout tonight at the post-race celebration dinner. I swear, this really was a celebration. Everyone that was there was in such a positive headspace. We were all sharing stories about our race results. It’s like everyone regaled each other with tales of triumph and perseverance. From what I heard a good number of people in the clinic actually attained a time of less than two hours. Given that the average is about 2:09, under 2 hours is rather fast. We had one person actually come in under 1:30. I know I say it every clinic, but this truly was a speedy clinic. I’m a bit sad that it’s over, but it’s time to let go. I’ve done a great job and they’ve benefitted. This downtime is my time to re-centre.

One cold and windy morning

Days before the race I wasn’t feeling nerves like I might normally would. It all finally hit me the night before. And it didn’t manifest in the form of an overactive mind. Instead, I barely got any sleep. My body was buzzing with anticipation preventing me from getting into a deep sleep state. By the time I got up, I started piecing all of my gear together.

When I got to the race, I could feel the excitement in the air. After dropping off my bag I hiked over to a hotel lobby which was our designated meeting spot. I started running into a lot of my clinic members. Each one was filled with a personal mix of excitement and nerves. For many of them this was their first half marathon. I was entirely proud of each of them. At one point the whole hotel lobby broke out into cheers. I looked around and there was Fauja Singh and his entourage. Mr. Singh had just turned 100 years old and was planning on running a full marathon. Totally inspirational.

Minutes before gun time we started heading to our corrals. I was in the last corral along with a bunch of other people I knew. We were taking pictures and having a great time. As I looked around I saw some worried faces. I kind of wanted to go up to them and cheer them on but I’m sure some of them would have told me to fuck off. No problem though. I mean, I was there once. I totally get it. And just like that the race started. I think it took me about 11-12 minutes to cross the starting line from where I was. That’s the longest interval between the gun and me crossing the starting line that I’ve encountered so far.

In terms of the race, mine was rather average. I started out slow to get the kinks out. By 5K or so I was feeling good so I started picking up the pace. I was able to maintain things at about 6:00-6:15/km for a good while. I was amazed at just how many more people were around me than when I was running a bit slower farther back. It makes a huge difference. At the rate I was going I was headed to about a 2:17 race. At about 16K, that’s when the fatigue kicked in. I knew it was coming, so instead of panicking I worked things out in my head. I told myself to run slower but pick it up once I’ve worked through it. Somewhere after 16K though there was an aid station that was giving away gels. The ground after that station was entirely sticky. My legs didn’t like that at all. I slowed down by a fair amount through that area, and it took me a while to regain some of my speed. Combined with the fatigue though I don’t think I returned back to where I was. I just couldn’t. I tried, but my body wouldn’t let me. It was at that point that I knew I was facing my usual battle against time slipping away from me.

Every now and then I reminded myself to try pushing again to see if I could get back up to speed. Sometimes I was successful, but slowed back down. By the last kilometre I was doing so many calculations in my head. I was trying to figure out what my likely arrival time would be. I think that’s when I my mind fell briefly into panic mode. The smile went from my face and all I could think was “WTF WTF WTF.” When I saw the sign saying there was 500 metres left. I pushed harder. There’s un underpass in that stretch. In the darkness I felt like I was on drugs. It was a really odd feeling. According to my watch I knew that I could achieve a new personal best if I just kept at it. That was my incentive. Never mind about 2:15, or 2:17: I just wanted to beat my old time of 2:20:19. Just before the finish line I raised my arms in amazement. I did it! I had beaten my old time! I made it in 2:19:46. That’s 33 seconds! It’s not as wide a margin as I wanted, but it’s still a sign of improvement nonetheless. I was so happy.

I was on the verge of tears but I kept it in. My arms and teeth were buzzing. I stuck around the finish chute looking for others from my group. There were some strangers that were in tears or looking worn out. I made it a point to smile at them and congratulate them. They smiled back. I hope I was able to brighten someone’s experience, at least. When I finally ran into someone I knew, the floodgates opened, and I shed a few tears myself. I couldn’t help it. I was just in a weird state at that point. I stuck around longer and saw more and more of the clinic members come in. High fives and hugs were given freely. It was a wonderful time.

Eventually we decided to head over to pick up our bags, which was a terrible experience. The baggage check this year was so poorly organized. It should not take one hour of standing in cold winds to pick up a bag. That was piss poor and must have turned off a lot of people doing this race for the first time, you know? I claimed my prepaid massage and had the guy work on my calves specifically. He was able to find a lot of sore spots. Though…now I kind of wish I got him to focus on my quads and hamstrings. My calves are fine now, but the bigger muscle groups are still sore.

So yeah, that was the STWHM for this year. Generally this race hasn’t been one where I’ve generated personal bests so I’m just amazed I made it out of this one with an improvement. More than anything I’m so happy that so many of my clinic members made it across. They all worked so hard to get that point. It all paid off.

Whatever the race throws at me

Is racing becoming old hat for me? Naw, that’s not the right term. I mean, that would suggest that races are no longer exciting, but they are. The anticipation and the hard work of training for the event is part of the fun. I’m just saying that I’m not as nervous about the details as I used to be. To some extent I have a good idea of what to expect, so I know that I’ll encounter X and I’ll have to do Y to take care of it. I’m a bit better equipped to handle whatever the race throws at me, so I feel like I can focus on enjoying my time out there more. Is that such a bad thing? I’ve put in so much time and effort into helping others achieve their goals such that when it comes to my own goals I can afford to let them be less pressing. This is a good thing. Some races where you’re able to drop all expectations are often the ones that return the best results, know what I mean?

All of this is a roundabout way of saying that I feel good about tomorrow’s race. Full plans to enjoy it.

Up for the final time

Back on Tuesday, I stood in front of my running group for the final time in this clinic. I was animated as I tried to give last minute tips to my group of soon-to-be racers. My group was cheerful and in good spirits. And just like that the talk ended and they were all out for their 10K run. At some point I was sort of expecting to feel somewhat sad about the fact that it was all over. I mean, I was pretty happy with this group. They were enthusiastic and responded well to my style of coaching. So, knowing how I function I really thought that I’d somehow get emotional. I’m glad that I didn’t though. I was happy to send them out. I know I did a great job. A large portion of them are running a half marathon for the first time on Sunday. I have absolutely no doubt that these people are ready! They’ve trained earnestly and honestly over the past 17 weeks. All of the effort will surely pay off. I no longer play a role in their performance–it’s all up to them. Job well done, Jason. A time for rest will arrive soon enough.

Set up for success

So back on Sunday morning I woke up listening to the radio. I was trying to push myself to get out of bed, but I just couldn’t without putting in extra effort. I knew that my cold was making things difficult. I wanted to get ready to meet with my running group. Sunday was scheduled to be our longest run in the clinic. I really wanted to run it with everyone to show solidarity. Even without the shutters open though I heard the sound of rain pounding the window. I reluctantly got myself to the bathroom, but in that short walk I felt light headed. I was coughing hard as well. With all of these symptoms apparent I knew that a 21K run in the rain would make everything much worse. The general rule of thumb is to not run if any symptoms happen below the neck. Well, the chest cough was enough for me to know I’d be better off staying inside.

I emailed my group leaders asking them to cover for me. I was slightly worried that people might get confused over the route. At one point I was even considering just driving up to send everyone off from the store. That’s a bit insane, really. One responded telling me that all would be fine. It really wasn’t enough to placate all of my fears. I ended up making a comment on Twitter about how I was concerned whether my group would be fine. Of of my followers replied with perhaps the perfect comment for my worry:

Yes! I’ve worked my ass off to make sure they’re prepared for anything. They’re race-ready. They can do it. There was truly nothing more I could do. And with that reply I went back to sleep.

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