The Other Side of the Road

Pedestrian musings in a world full of cars

Time Off

By Nina Russin

There are as many theories about taking time off as there are runners. Some athletes train seven days a week, but take a couple of weeks off after the racing season to recover. Others take a day or two off each week. “Streakers” run seven days a week as long as their bodies allow, and consider their ability to do so a badge of honor.

At one time, I rarely took regular training days off. A once-a-week recovery run of a few easy miles seemed to keep the injury wolf at bay.

Now I take a day off each week. If my training volume is light, I’ll cross train. More often than not, I prefer a day of complete rest: a chance to get some extra sleep, catch up on work, and refill the emotional well.

During a hard training cycle I look forward to my day off like a kid looks forward to summer vacation. But just as summer vacation never quite lives up to one’s expectations, the day off doesn’t either. Once the thrill of some extra sleep wears off, I find myself missing the feeling of accomplishment the run brings.

Scientists might blame endorphins: the “happy chemicals” we generate when we exercise. But I think the answer is simpler than that. I’m a creature of habit, and I don’t like having my daily ritual disturbed.

 I’ve learned from hard experience what skipping the rest day can do. Injuries that started as no more than minor aches required months of recovery. The emotional toll from months without running is much worse than the physical symptoms. A rest day seems easy by comparison.

I’m not suggesting that my ideas about time off fit every athlete’s needs. But in a world that’s already overrun with schedules and stress, a little extra rest is probably a good idea.

Mental Toughness

By Nina Russin

Of all the challenges runners face, the biggest is training the mind. It’s my belief that the body is capable of more than most imagine. What prevents runners from reaching their goals is over-thinking, not overtraining.

Picture the final hundred meters of a race. With the finish line in sight, fatigue is overcome by adrenaline. The mind tells the body that the end is within reach; the rest is intuitive.

The same applies to training. The more familiar one is with a hill, the easier it becomes to run up it. The body can usually finish what the mind perceives as doable.

What’s the best way to keep negative thinking from undermining a workout? For me, it’s learning to focus on the moment.

Reprogramming the psyche isn’t as easy as it sounds. The mind likes to carry on multiple conversations at once. Learning to appreciate each moment for what it has to offer is one of the greatest benefits of training as a runner.

The best way to build mental toughness is by taking the workout one step at a time.

Less is Not More

By Nina Russin

I suppose it’s in the best interest of race promoters to convince anyone who will listen that running is easy. Running is intuitive: children learn to run short distances almost as soon as they can walk. 

But when it comes to training for distance events, especially the marathon, volume is the key ingredient. The body learns to do what it practices. Runners who want to excel in a 26.2 mile race need to include similarly long runs as part of a high-mileage training regimen.

Running high volume makes the athlete more efficient, both in terms of gait, and in the utilization of glycogen: fuel derived from food. Long runs train the body to make slight adjustments in stride length and foot strike as it fatigues, to finish the distance without injury.

Unfortunately, some runners have an easier time adapting to high mileage than others. While strategies such as running on soft surfaces, choosing the proper footwear and in some cases orthotics can help to minimize the risk of injury, the fact is that some people are better adapted to be distance runners than others. Life is not an even playing field.

Suggesting this is not a good way to promote race attendance. But I don’t think it’s fair to mislead people into thinking that marathon training and racing is easy. To do so not only misrepresents the task ahead of the novice; it fails to recognize the accomplishment of those runners who make it to the finish line.

If Phidippides hadn’t died on his way back to Athens, there probably wouldn’t be a race named after the town of Marathon. Finishing a marathon is an arduous task. Even those who train hard and well occasionally need to drop out of a race. Those who finish with their heads up should take pride in an accomplishment that sets them ahead of the pack.

History in the Making
Bernard Lagat’s win at the 103rd Millrose Games is a feat of heroic proportions

By Nina Russin

Bernard Lagat

Friday night, Bernard Lagat raced past the competition to win his eighth Wanamaker Mile at the Millrose Games, securing himself a spot in track and field history. Lagat’s victory broke Eamonn Coghlan’s longstanding record for the most wins of the Millrose Games’ marquis event.

Despite Lagat’s ranking among the world’s top milers, winning the race was anything but a given. Lagat, who is now 35 years of age, was pitted against some formidable opponents: many younger than himself.

 Among them was Asbel Kiprop of Kenya, who was making his indoor debut after winning Olympic gold in Beijing, as well as the Englishman, Andy Baddley. Lagat knew that in order to beat these opponents, he would have to run the perfect race. That’s exactly what he did.

At the start, Lagat settled into third place behind David Krummenacker, the pace setter, and Asbel Kiprop. He bided his time: not an easy thing to do on a track one-eleventh of a mile long. When Krummenacker  pulled out, Lagat stayed tucked in behind Kiprop, who was now leading the race.

Just before the bell lap, Lagat made his move, passing Kiprop in the turn, and out-kicking his opponent to a convincing victory. His winning time of 3:56.34 was a second and a half faster than Kiprop’s 3:58.03, which won him second place.

It’s a shame that track and field isn’t more popular here in the US. I would guess that most of those in the viewing audience Friday night were runners themselves.

Friday night’s race had implications that extend beyond the sport. Bernard Lagat proved that he was more than a gifted runner: he had, in a sense, perfected the art of war.

Lagat’s victory is a textbook example of what it takes to be a winner. Winning isn’t about being the leader of the pack. Ego must take a second seat to strategy. To win on the track, at war and in life, a person must choose his battles carefully. He must study his opponents from the inside out, because winning involves the mind as much as the heart.

Bernard Lagat, a man of slight build with an oversized heart, is a hero of epic proportions.

Wet weather runs

By Nina Russin

It’s my belief that nothing is more boring than running on a treadmill. Watching paint dry is entertaining by comparison.

While others may head to the gym when the weather turns cold, wet or icy, I continue to run out of doors.

I have run through fourteen Phoenix summers, countless monsoons, and a bit of snow. Each has given me a new perspective on the sport.

This morning, I awoke to the sound of wind and rain pounding on our tile roof. Despite the urge to stay in bed, I laced up my running shoes and headed outside.

Because running warms the body, running through a cold rainstorm isn’t nearly as unpleasant as it might seem. I like a nice shower as much as the next guy. Running in the rain is like taking a shower with scenery.

Rain makes the desert smell good. It clears the air of dust and pollution. Puddles are fun to splash through.

Running in the rain reminds me that anticipation evokes different emotions than experience. To enjoy life, we must push aside our preconceptions of what should be, and be open our minds up to happy accidents.

A rainy morning run makes the cup of tea with breakfast more enjoyable. Not only do I have a jump on the day; I feel that I have lived more fully. Running has allowed me to step outside myself, to indulge my senses as nature intended.

Following the run, my cat looks at the water dripping off my hat, sneezes, and slinks off in disgust. Cats don’t like water in any form. They don’t appreciate a warm shower. For all we share, we don’t share my love of running in the rain.

Why I Hate Shoes

By Nina Russin

Vibram Fivefingers

Right now, I have 21 pairs of running shoes in my closet. A couple are still in boxes: shoes I’ll transition into when the current ones wear out. Most of the rest I still run in. I also have a few “happy pairs:” retired shoes from significant races.

I’m not loyal to any particular brand of shoes. The one thing my shoes have in common is that they’re minimal: they come as close as possible to barefoot running.

It’s my belief that no matter how good a shoe design is, it’s not as good as the human foot. The foot is an amazing piece of anatomy: dozens of bones, muscles, tendons and connective tissue working in concert with one goal: to move the body forward.

Unfortunately, most of the surfaces we find ourselves running on aren’t foot-friendly. Not only are concrete and asphalt hard; debris such as gravel, broken glass and other types of litter can cause puncture wounds and possibly infection. Shoes are the best way to prevent those sorts of injuries.

The problem is that shoes interfere with the foot’s proprioception: the ability of nerves to read the surface of the road, and send the appropriate signals to the muscles. The more cushioned, corrective or stiff shoes are, the more they interfere with this very important function.

What begins with the feet travels up the legs. Many common running injuries, including tendonitis in major leg muscles and certain knee problems begin with the feet.

Yet the shoe industry persists in marketing shoes that are, in most cases, over-engineered. Much of the stimulus for this trend comes from non-runners, who are entering marathons in unprecedented numbers.

Shoe designers try to give these first-time marathoners their best chance of success with shoes that correct common gait problems, and provide extraordinary amounts of cushioning.

In writing this, I’m not suggesting that running shoe companies stop making products there’s an obvious market for. My concern is that simple minimal running shoes seem to be going the way of the typewriter.

My request to the running shoe companies is simple: keep a few pairs of thin-soled models in your line-up for me.

The Simple Truth: Running and the meaning of life

By Nina Russin

Flying Pig Marathon

Over the past fourteen years, I’ve occasionally wondered what significance running has in the grand scheme of things. Running at won’t change the world, nor will running at the non-elite level change the sport.

While its health benefits are significant, they can’t account for the time and passion I’ve put into this sport for over a quarter of my life.

Nothing makes a person think more seriously about the meaning of life than death. Seeing my mother’s ashes at the gravesite last June caused me to reflect upon my own life: to wonder what, if anything will remain of my life’s work after I’m gone.

It’s possible decades of work as an automotive journalist will have some significance, at least in a historical sense. Family members will remember me, but those memories fade over time.

What I took away from my mother’s death is an appreciation for how short life is. A human being’s lifetime is a blink on the screen of history: over almost before it has begun.

Movement is the essence of life: not just muscular movement, but the movement of fluids through the body, and electrical currents through the brain. When movement stops, the body dies.

Running is instinctual, although running well requires training and practice. Running satisfies the basic human need to move: to explore the unfamiliar, stimulate the senses, and learn from the experience.

Running teaches us that there is an adventure around every corner, which in turn helps us to appreciate the comfort that lies in familiarity.

I have always been a morning runner, in part because it is the time I can count on as my own, before other obligations take precedence. When I start the day with a run, I can count on the feeling of accomplishment that running brings. I like to run until I’m tired: to feel as if I’ve taken every advantage being alive for another day.

The muscles are warm, the mind more focused. The body is ready to accomplish the tasks and challenges that lie ahead.

I run because it keeps me moving: that’s the simple truth.