A Racing Meaning Poem

Being in the Presence of the Best

There can be something

That is the best

About every race—

Even if it is not

The time.

Of course,

Usually when runners

Speak of, “the best,”

They mean time.

But if a runner

Runs enough races,

It is impossible

To always

Run faster.

And even with a race

That is planned for months

With meticulously scheduled

Workouts,

Sometimes things don’t work. 

For some races,

I can see it weeks in advance.

Weather was bad.

Workouts were missed.

Injuries.
Life gets in the way.

For other races,

It is clear that morning.

Bad night’s rest.

Something eaten didn’t sit right.

Too hot.

And sometimes it is during the race

That it becomes clear

That it will not be the fastest.

But it doesn’t mean

That there can’t be something

That is the best.

And if I pick out

What I think

Might be best

In advance,

And think about

Being in the presence of the best,

Then the race can still be one

To remember.

Scenery.

Most constant pace—

Even if not the fastest.

Meeting other runners.

Helping someone

Who would otherwise

Be behind me,

By encouraging them

As they run

Alongside me—

Or ahead of me.

Or maybe smiling more.

Or maybe just

Taking the time

To take in the sights

And sounds

And smells

Of the race.

Doing this will ensure

That the race will be

More than just

A few random bytes

With a name, date, and time

In my electronic device.

It will be a story

I can someday share
With my children’s children.

40 Days to Better: Day 13

This morning I surprised myself with 15.6 miles at a 7:38 pace.  A bit shorter than last week (when I ran 20) but a bit faster than last week—averaging 10 second per mile faster. 

While the run was faster, it was not necessarily better.  And certainly not smarter.  Today, I began with an 8:04, then ran 7:29, 7:37, 7:46, 8:13, 7:45, 7:42, 7:35, 7:41, 7:22, 7:28, 7:41, 7:43, 7:10, 7:26, and the final 0.6 in 7:20.  All the stability I showed last week just went by the wayside.  Started slowly.  Sped up more than I thought.  Slowed down a little running up University Parkway to get to the JHU lacrosse field area. Slowed down even more as I continued along University where there were no streetlights (much to my surprise) and with the steep uphill to Roland, faster on Roland, okay across Northern and up Charles, okay on Stevenson (including the hills—that was the 7:41), faster down Osler and around onto Towsontown (it helped that another runner showed up and I aimed to pass), okay headed to Bosley, okay on Bosley headed around to York, okay as I made my by up Fairmount and across Joppa, faster headed back down York, then okay in the neighborhood.  Times all over the place.

So, as I said, even with a faster pace, not as good a run.  Combining this less smart run with yesterday’s slow run, I could certainly add a comment after yesterday…not every run can be the best run—no matter how hard I try. 

My past two days demonstrate this clearly for workouts.  It is also clear for races.  Both back in high school and with my grown up running since 2009, I have found the same thing.  As I got started, I did get faster each race for a while.  Then, once I approached my capacity, not every race was a personal best. 

And, of course, the idea that not every activity can be the best one is true in other areas of life as well.  There is no way that every day at work can be better than the last.  Some days are up and some days are down.  The key is overall growth—a general upward trajectory. 

There is no way that every day in marriage will be better than the last.  Some days are up and some days are down.  The key is a general strengthening of the relationship overall over time.

When I play a musical instrument, there is no way that every song will be better than the last. 

It is not the case that every blog entry is better than the last.

If I were a visual artist, not every piece of art work would be better than the last.

In a friendship, not every interaction is necessarily better than the last.

And even in parts of life that focus on improvement or departure from something in the past not every day is necessarily better than the last.

The key for me in all cases is to remember what a friend said to me recently about a process she is going through.  She compared it with a marathon.  Some good miles. Some bad miles.  But you keep pushing toward the finish line.  And that is what I do in all parts of my life.  Realize there will be some good times and some bad times.  But always push for the goal. 

Because I Can

"Because I can" is a phrase that I mentioned in yesterday's blog entry, and it is a wonderful thing to be able to say.

Does it need to be tempered?  Of course.  It needs to be tempered with a moral compass.  It needs to be tempered with a sense of what can be balanced in my life.  It needs to be tempered by a lot of things.

But when it comes to running that is part of my exercise routine (as long it does not interfere with work and family), it is an absolutely great thing to be able to say.

I run--because I can.

I run a great distance--because I can.

I run relatively (and it is all relative after all) fast--because I can.

I cross the finish line--because I can.

I run races--because I can.

I train for very long distance races--because I can.

Is it always best to run as far as I can or as hard and fast as I can?  Just about every assessment of training that I have ever read says "no".  Does that change my behavior?  A little.

I will occasionally take a day off.

If there are days on which my body really only can go at a slower pace, I don't stress any more.

And if a race isn't perfect--I've had enough good races that I may fuss about money spent to register for a race that didn't go so well, but I don't really worry about it any more.  Still, that doesn't prevent the butterflies before each race that I mentioned yesterday.

But the "because I can" attitude makes the end of each run great.  And it means that I can continue to set goals around how fast and how far and not just "let me get out and see what I can do."  It helps to give me a sense of why I run.

Not everyone needs to have goals about times and distances and races.  Some people can just enjoy running for the sake of running.  I admire those people.

Not everyone needs to build a social life around their running.  I admire those people as well, and I personally have a mixture of social and individual experiences while running that is just fine.

Not everyone who runs needs to run to feel like they are fulfilled in life.  That is fine.  But that is not me.

Are all my characteristics the right ones?  For me--yes.  For everyone else--I'll leave that for everyone else to decide.

What I focus on is the fact that everyone probably has a "because I can" thing for themselves.  Something that they do and when asked why they simply answer "because I can".  I haven't asked others about this.  But I do wonder how much each person gets from something like this.  And whether each person feels that the "because I can" activity helps them to be the best person they can be.  Certainly my running helps me be the best me that I can be.

And if someday I can't, then I am sure that at first I will be disappointed.  And right now I cannot imagine not being able to say that I am running because I can.

But I am adaptable and I will find a new activity if and when that time ever comes that helps to continue to define who I am, help me achieve self actualization, and move ahead.  And why is that?

Because I can.