From a coaching position, it’s easy to pass out the sensible advice. I’ve done it enough such that the usual questions are easy to tackle. Despite this, sometimes I slip up and I don’t follow the rules myself. For example it’s easy to tell people to drink water to stave off the dehydration headaches. I’ve written about that myself as well. Still, once in a while I’ll forget to drink a lot of water the night before, and then I’ll end up running through a really hot day. That happened to me today. The resulting headache lasted well into the evening. It’s not that I’m a fool and letting my advice go. I make mistakes; I’m human. It only takes an afternoon of severe headache pain though to knock some sense back into me. Argh.

When I run I’m usually decked out in my usual running gear. During the summer, the uniform is basically a technical tee, shorts, and a hat. In the winter there’s usually another shirt layer, a jacket, pants, and a tuque involved. In all of that gear it’s hard for anyone to tell what I do for a living. There are no indicators saying “I work in IT as a software dev!” Similarly, I’m surrounded by people who’ve also shed off the trappings of the day. It doesn’t matter where we came from or what we’ve been doing all day: at that moment we are all runners. We are all so used to it that it’s easy to forget that this whole other life exists. A person’s occupation doesn’t normally come up in conversation. For example, on Tuesday I was running a little bit faster than I normally would have. I ended up running with people in my group that are usually way ahead of me. In conversation it came up that I work at Symantec. Turns out the person that I was talking with was in a similar field. In my mind she didn’t really fit the stereotypical IT look, so, that shocked me. In a similar vein, when the clinic ends we usually go out to a restaurant to celebrate. I generally tell me group that it’s a chance to see what everyone looks like outside of running gear. Most people take it as a signal to look somewhat decent. Some transformations are crazy! I suppose it would be a detransformation. Anyway, it’s all just another reason why I like running. You leave everything behind and nothing matters except you being present on the road with the world ahead of you.

Note to self:

Always be prepared when it comes to giving a talk at a clinic night. Winging it is not a good idea. I only end up rambling and talking nonsense. It doesn’t look good.

Blah.

I just used the dangling carrot analogy with my running clinic.

In doing so, I effectively called everyone a donkey.

That’s OK because I called myself the chief ass.

SMOOTH.

Over the lunch hour I was fortunate to meet up with one of my running buddies that works in kind of the same area as I do. In discussion I was reminded that my coaching gig starts in about two weeks or so. I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll say it again: I can’t wait to start again. It’s not just because I’m secretly yearning to be active again. I mean, that’s a big part of it, but it’s not the big thing. I am looking forward to being out there again helping other people to reach their goals.

I’ve been discussing this with various people over the past week or two. It seems like I have this thing where I genuinely like helping other people. I think it’s part of a way for me to exert control over my environment and ensure that there’s a fair bit of harmony all around me. If I can help people realize that somewhat lofty goals like running twenty-one kilometres can be achieved with hard work, perseverance, and a general can-do attitude then I know that I’m doing well. That kind of attitude has a way of spreading into other parts of one’s life. So yes, it’s going to be a summer of awesomeness. I hope that I will maintain that level of positivity for my clinic members.