Not racing for all of the last fall season got me thinking: do we race too often? Like most running-related questions, the answer is simple; but unfortunately, that's where it gets complicated.
I decided to break this down into two parts with two different answers. And really, I think these parts speak to the divide between the competitive sport and the participant activity. Part one focused on high school and collegiate cross country and track athletes. This one will cover more of the road, trail, and ultra racing scene.
So. Do we post-collegiate (or non-collegiate...or heck, let's just call it "open" runners) race too often?
No. In fact, I don't believe we race often enough. [He writes, with a 5k last weekend and a marathon this one.]
Back in the day, athletes like Bill Rodgers might race nearly every other week, at any distance from the 5k to the marathon. Seriously, scroll down to the bottom of his 1977 log -- he competed in an astonishing 26 races, including an unheard-of-today 5 marathons.
Today, it's all too common to see canned plans or training groups for the masses focusing on a goal half or full marathon that only schedule in one race -- if that. I cringe whenever I see these training schedules; if your end goal is peak performance at a race, then shouldn't you practice racing before your goal? I get that more isn't always better, but more than one lone pre-competition race certainly is necessary.
But instead of lamenting the lack of racing going on, I'd rather try to figure out the reasons behind this shift in mindset.
The most glaring difference is that races today are much more expensive than they used to be. You can thank an increased demand for races in general (i.e., more total people running) for the higher prices. Even your local neighborhood 5k is often upwards of $30 -- and that's if you pre-registered. Try to sign up day-of, and you'll absolutely see some sticker shock. And that's not to mention the fact that $100+ is commonplace for half and full marathons. I supposed it's not all that different than being an avid golfer -- regular outings for 9 or 18 holes will set you back similarly -- but it's still a significant barrier, especially for the younger, more competitive runners who often don't have an established career and/or income flow yet.
Another problem is that races today are less competitive than they used to be. Perhaps there are just too many options out there, so that the competition is diluted between many events as opposed to all congregating at the premier (or only) race around. Part of the point of regular racing is to push yourself in a way you can't in a workout, since you'll have runners all around you and the competitive juices flowing. But if the competition is too disperse, then you just end up running by yourself, which is no different than you would have done in your workout. And if the race offers no different an atmosphere than a workout, why pay the entry fee and deal with the logistical stress of navigating a race that's really an 'event'?
Finally, I do think there's a psychological block to racing often. We're afraid of failure, and nothing is as stark a reminder of your true fitness than a race. In said race, the clock -- and your place -- doesn't lie. In a workout, you may be able to rationalize a rough run -- oh, I wasn't recovered from my recent training, or I was trying to go on tired legs, or the weather wasn't quite ideal -- but in a race, your true shape is exposed for everyone to see. I've certainly fallen into this trap before.
And not only that, but we also sacrifice the good for the great. Meaning, we are so focused on a goal race that all of our training and every single workout has to go just right; we have to hit every single benchmark we set for ourselves before we feel confident in accomplishing our goal. In trying to be perfect in training, we end up sacrificing practice in racing. Because failing a race, or not setting a PR, will make you question how your training is actually going. It's much more comfortable to exist in own own little bubbles than to face the vulnerability that race day exposes.
But you can't race well if you're afraid, even subconsciously, of discomfort. Embrace it, and embrace racing more.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Speaking of racing, my goal for the spring season is fast approaching.
This Sunday (5/28), I'll be running the Vermont City Marathon in Burlington, VT. While I do have more concrete goals for my performance (that I'm keeping private), I really just want some semblance of redemption at the marathon distance after two disasters and an injury last year.
I decided to break this down into two parts with two different answers. And really, I think these parts speak to the divide between the competitive sport and the participant activity. Part one focused on high school and collegiate cross country and track athletes. This one will cover more of the road, trail, and ultra racing scene.
So. Do we post-collegiate (or non-collegiate...or heck, let's just call it "open" runners) race too often?
No. In fact, I don't believe we race often enough. [He writes, with a 5k last weekend and a marathon this one.]
Back in the day, athletes like Bill Rodgers might race nearly every other week, at any distance from the 5k to the marathon. Seriously, scroll down to the bottom of his 1977 log -- he competed in an astonishing 26 races, including an unheard-of-today 5 marathons.
Today, it's all too common to see canned plans or training groups for the masses focusing on a goal half or full marathon that only schedule in one race -- if that. I cringe whenever I see these training schedules; if your end goal is peak performance at a race, then shouldn't you practice racing before your goal? I get that more isn't always better, but more than one lone pre-competition race certainly is necessary.
But instead of lamenting the lack of racing going on, I'd rather try to figure out the reasons behind this shift in mindset.
The most glaring difference is that races today are much more expensive than they used to be. You can thank an increased demand for races in general (i.e., more total people running) for the higher prices. Even your local neighborhood 5k is often upwards of $30 -- and that's if you pre-registered. Try to sign up day-of, and you'll absolutely see some sticker shock. And that's not to mention the fact that $100+ is commonplace for half and full marathons. I supposed it's not all that different than being an avid golfer -- regular outings for 9 or 18 holes will set you back similarly -- but it's still a significant barrier, especially for the younger, more competitive runners who often don't have an established career and/or income flow yet.
Another problem is that races today are less competitive than they used to be. Perhaps there are just too many options out there, so that the competition is diluted between many events as opposed to all congregating at the premier (or only) race around. Part of the point of regular racing is to push yourself in a way you can't in a workout, since you'll have runners all around you and the competitive juices flowing. But if the competition is too disperse, then you just end up running by yourself, which is no different than you would have done in your workout. And if the race offers no different an atmosphere than a workout, why pay the entry fee and deal with the logistical stress of navigating a race that's really an 'event'?
Finally, I do think there's a psychological block to racing often. We're afraid of failure, and nothing is as stark a reminder of your true fitness than a race. In said race, the clock -- and your place -- doesn't lie. In a workout, you may be able to rationalize a rough run -- oh, I wasn't recovered from my recent training, or I was trying to go on tired legs, or the weather wasn't quite ideal -- but in a race, your true shape is exposed for everyone to see. I've certainly fallen into this trap before.
And not only that, but we also sacrifice the good for the great. Meaning, we are so focused on a goal race that all of our training and every single workout has to go just right; we have to hit every single benchmark we set for ourselves before we feel confident in accomplishing our goal. In trying to be perfect in training, we end up sacrificing practice in racing. Because failing a race, or not setting a PR, will make you question how your training is actually going. It's much more comfortable to exist in own own little bubbles than to face the vulnerability that race day exposes.
But you can't race well if you're afraid, even subconsciously, of discomfort. Embrace it, and embrace racing more.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Speaking of racing, my goal for the spring season is fast approaching.
This Sunday (5/28), I'll be running the Vermont City Marathon in Burlington, VT. While I do have more concrete goals for my performance (that I'm keeping private), I really just want some semblance of redemption at the marathon distance after two disasters and an injury last year.
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