Head - Personality - Heart October 2010

Head, Personality, and Heart

By T-Roy “Trackie/Tadpole” Pruett

From time to time I like to spend time considering running quotations.  There are several funny, inspirational, and contemplative favorites.  I like this one from Hal Higdon when I’m asked what it is like to go from a 5K to a marathon, "The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over hot coals."  I can relate to this.  Question is why?  I like the realist approach provided by Gene Thibeault, "If you start to feel good don't worry, you will get over it." I’ve been there a few times myself.  I also think Rod Dixon would have been a perfect fit for RAW, “I just want to drink beer and train like an animal.”  I think of Rod about half way through any track session.

During the Steamtown Marathon in October I found myself at the start line thinking about head, personality, and heart.  Mike Fanelli’s quote, "Divide the race into thirds. Run the first part with your head, the middle part with your personality, and the last part with your heart," is a longtime favorite.  

I set my sights on a marathon PR at Steamtown after an awesome half marathon performance at Fontana CA in May.  Right after registration I rolled my left ankle.  The injury coupled with already worsening pain in the heel resulted in terrible summer training.  For a marathon PR attempt I would need to run 80-90 miles a week and several two-a-days during the week.  Week after week I cycled up and down the mileage chart trying to find the sweet spot for my ankle.  In the end I averaged about 40 miles per week with long runs ending at or before 18.  Each run became a tutorial in pain management.  Pain scale of 4:  Great run, 5-6:  OK run and glad to have been able to finish, 8:  Hope I don’t have to far to walk back.

Many thought I was nuts (myself included) for going to Steamtown.  I knew it would hurt at some point but hoped the down time during the taper would give me a few extra not so painful miles.  So there I am at the start line on a beautiful running day, pain level 3, and I hear someone a couple rows back say, “It’s all about heart at the finish.” I stopped thinking about how much this is going to hurt and started thinking about head, personality, and heart.   

Head.  I knew I needed a smart 10-11 miles.  Steamtown is a net downhill course and I was concerned the stress from the downgrade would wreak ankle havoc early.  Beveled road edges were a problem so running near the center and missing the tangents would help.  Finally I hoped that altering stride length and foot strikes would buy me a couple of miles.  The plan worked until the half and the pain scale started to rise. 

Personality.   I knew I looked like crap, it was a long way to go, and there really were some long climbs at the end.   Telling it like it is just wasn’t going to cut it this time (Note to reader:  I still enjoy the verbal harassment by the RAW Nation).  Luckily Steamtown has really great crowd support and I was smart enough to wear my tie-dye outfit.  I truly appreciated the smiles, cheers, and “love the outfit” comments.  I found myself drifting towards the edges, making eye contact, smiling, hand slapping, and waving at the spectators.  I even barked at a few dogs.  Thankfully, for more times than I can remember, these brief personal connections were enough to let me forget about the pain and keep running. 

Heart.  In spite of the positive outreach effort, the pain just kept coming.  At mile 20 the pain scale was up to 7.  Sometimes there just are not enough “looking goods” to help.  It’s all about heart for the final marathon miles.  Looking deep inside to find yourself and what you can give.  Understanding you have been there before during many days of training.  Knowing you have the ability and will to survive the worst.  Finishing this marathon without walking now meant more to me than completing any event I have ever done.  

I climbed the last set of hills in agony, grimacing with every step.  I ran across the finish line a teary eyed snot dripping mouth drooling hobbling goblin of a freak.  Proud to know I ran with my head, ran with personality, and emptied my heart.   

(PS:  Tired of limping through runs, I finally went to a surgeon in late November.    While cutting maybe the eventual solution the doctor and I agreed to non-blood generating treatments first.  No running then reduced running, wearing a splint several hours a day, custom inserts, stretching plans, and magic pills.  In the meantime this rather long tadpole is learning to become one with the water. )