The way to grow as a coach is through experience, reading, listening to people who know more than you and asking them questions. Obtaining a coaching certification is important, but it is not what makes you a competent one. It is just a steppingstone into a fascinating world of learning and experimentation. Maintaining curiosity alive is what has made the coach I am today.
One of the most influential people in my coaching journey has been Steve Magness. He is knowledgeable, curious, experienced, science based, and a clear communicator. He is also generous, sharing his expertise and experience through many channels.
Steve Magness is one of the most influential people in my coaching journey
Magness is a globally recognized authority on performance and the author of influential books such as \”Do Hard Things\” and \”Peak Performance\”. His work delves into the intricacies of resilience and the science behind true toughness. Beyond his literary contributions, Magness has coached an array of clients ranging from professional sports teams to executives and artists, emphasizing a holistic approach to performance enhancement. His expertise has garnered attention from publications such as The New York Times and The Guardian, reflecting his profound impact on the realms of elite sport and mental performance.
In a social media world filled with shallowness and stupidity, Magness\’ feeds stand out as an oasis of enlightenment. I\’ve curated three of his posts that encapsulate concise running wisdom. May they prove as beneficial to you as they have been to me.
On Greatness
What does it take to be great?
A relentless drive, a fiery competitiveness?
Yes, but the same thing that makes you great can be your downfall.
The greats balance it out:
– Caring deeply but being able to let go
– Harnessing aggression but in a controlled way
– A desire to win, to achieve, but with enough intrinsic motivation to keep them from chasing.
Learn how to become great without falling apart.
Steve Magness
My take: You have a running goal? Great! Focus and work for it. Work hard. Give it the best chance to become reality. It is OK to want it badly. Nothing wrong with it. But you can’t let it rule your life. Especially if running is not your profession. Don’t let a running goal ruin your life. Your family will still love you if you are not a Sub-2 half marathoner. If your friends don’t value you unless you are a Sub-3 marathoner, it is time to change friends. Maintain perspective.
On the training process:
The 5 Rules of Training:
1. The boring stuff is your foundation. Do that consistently for a long time.
2. Let it Come, Don’t Force it.
3. Take the Next Logical Step. Don\’t skip many steps.
4. You lose what you don’t train. You are either building or maintaining something.
5. Train the individual, not the system.
Steve Magness
My take: Endurance training is a journey that demands trust and patience. While the allure of speed may be captivating, it\’s the establishment of a solid foundation what truly matters. Constructing this base entails a methodical yet sometimes monotonous progression through various training stages. Each one is an essential step for improvement. Your coach is not hiding the shortcuts.
On Competitiveness
We’re used to thinking of competitiveness as either you got it, or you don’t.
But research paints a different picture. It depends where that competitiveness comes from.
Hyper-competitiveness is when we try to maintain our sense of self through winning. We seek validation through the external.
Self-developmental competitiveness occurs when the internal matters more than the external. It’s about growing through competing, discovering who we are, what we’re capable of & how to improve.
Steve Magness
My take: We all know that runner whose self-worth is linked to his/her PRs. Most likely you know someone who rather end up assisted by paramedics than not make it to the podium. Unless you are in the Olympics, it is not worth missing your kids’ wedding. It is not about not making sacrifices for what you want, it is about not neglecting your life, health, and family in exchange for a PR.
If you have any thoughts, please share them in the comment box below.
I came across this book just by chance. I have never heard of John Tarrant, Bill Jones (the author) or The Ghost Runner. But the title was intriguing enough to check what this book was about. Subtitled “The Tragedy of the Man They Couldn’t Stop. The True Story of John Tarrant”, it seemed worth a try. I am glad I gave it a chance.
Bill Jones is an award-winning documentarist for British television. This is his first book. Back in 1984, while working on a documentary about the Centennial of the Salford Harriers, an athletic club based in North Manchester, came along the name John Tarrant and an awkwardly written autobiography he left behind. The more he learned about the man labeled “The Ghost Runner”, the more intrigued he became. In March 2013, the book was released.
John Tarrant was born in 1932 in London. As a young child he was shipped with his younger brother to the safety of a boarding school during the Nazi indiscriminate bombings of London during World War II. After 7 years in a living hell, he came back to a sick mother who died shortly after. His father remarried and the family situation was not very loving.
Tarrant focused his energy on sports and became a boxer. He participated in a handful of low-level fights, earning £17. But John hated boxing and promptly discovered not just the joys of running, but that he had a talent for it. But his meager earnings from his past marked Tarrant’s life, as he became a professional athlete. Back in those days, especially in a classist and discriminatory society like the English, disqualified him from athletics. Not just boxing, but everything.
In the shadows of Britain\’s elite schools, a contrasting ethos emerged—the cult of the gentleman amateur. Rooted in the belief that the working class couldn\’t be trusted to compete fairly due to their perceived penchant for money, these beliefs gained traction. By 1880, the Amateur Athletic Association was established, defining an amateur as someone who, from age 16 onward, never competed for prizes, engaged in monetary considerations, wagered, taught sports for profit, or exploited their abilities for personal gain. This strict definition left figures like John Tarrant uneasy, underscoring a profound shift in sports culture.
Unable to participate in races, he resorted to jumping into them unregistered. He was a talented runner who sometimes even won. The press christened him as “The Ghost Runner” and a legend was quickly born. An adversarial relationship grew with the British Amateur Athletics Association and eventually he was reinstated, only to find at the time to choose the marathon team for the Rome Olympics, that this reinstatement did not include international representation of his country.
John Tarrant
While today jumping into races is frowned upon, the world of road racing in the 1950s and 1960s was a niche community. Bobbi Gibb also jumped into the Boston Marathon in 1966 and is today seen as hero. Tarrant became a star and the races looked forward to having him as an unregistered runner because his celebrity enhanced its profile.
The book goes in depth into Tarrant’s early childhood. Sometimes you may feel it is a bit too much, but then you find it is important so you may find justification for the adulthood of the protagonist. His persona off the asphalt is as equally important of a character as his running self. Both are registered masterfully but this first-time author.
Even though Tarrant set a handful of world records and won a handful of marathons and many local races, this is not the story of one of the great runners of all time. It is, though, the story of someone for whom running was not part of his life, but his life. It is about the hypocrisy of British athletics in the mid-20th century and one man’s, a working-class man, fight to overcome it.
That author says: “The way he saw it, the ghost runner wasn\’t simply a person. He – John Tarrant – was the living embodiment of a cause. The ghost was his alter ego, his weapon, and his disguise.”
Tarrant died in obscurity in 1975 at the age of 42 due to a misdiagnosed stomach cancer. Maybe this early death cost him his place in the pantheon of interesting running characters of our time.
I highly recommend the book. It is well researched, well written and worth the money and time to read it.
If you raced during the GPS watch era, you must have experienced the doubt of considering a race was mismeasured. Typically, it is a matter of not taking tangents or weaving around slower runners as you move. Big, established races rarely mess up this, but it does happen occasionally. The 1981 world record by Alberto Salazar was denied because the NYC Marathon proved to be 152.4 meters (500 feet) short when remeasured.
As unsatisfying as it may be, some times race directors make mistakes measuring the course. Even in the NYC Marathon (Pexels)
Let’s get something clear: Your GPS watch is not the authority that certifies a course. Your GPS gives you an approximation, a guideline. No one is going to launch a ballistic missile or set up an oil rig in the North Sea based on the latest Garmin data on your wrist. The technology is amazing, sure, but it is not intended to be military-grade.
No serious race will measure its course with a Garmin. Maybe a local small, local 5k, but nothing beyond that. I once met a runner who just came from the 2022 Berlin Marathon and complained she missed her PR because the course was long. I did not want to get into an argument with someone I barely knew, but if the course is good enough for Eliud Kipchoge to set a world record, it should be ok with you who ran just for fun.
Racecourses can run long or short. I read once that there are acceptable margins of error for them to go long, but not short. Last weekend I participated in a half marathon, and when I got to mile 12.5, with just one kilometer to go, I decided to push. It was the longest kilometer of my life. The course was long, per my GPS, by 0.5 miles. Many runners complained online that their watches were long from 0.4 to 0.7 miles. This is fishy, for sure. A few tenths here or there are normal. Or, if you run through a downtown with a canyon of high-rises, like the start of Chicago or the end of the Miami Marathon, then it is all out of whack. But that was not the case here.
If you are interested in the procedures to measure and certify a racecourse, you can check the certifications procedure manual by USA Track and Field (USTAF) by clicking here.
So, what happens to my PR?
As far as I know, there are no established rules to govern this anomaly. I only speak by what, based on my experience of 100+ races, I would, and do:
If I know the course is short, I will not take it as a PR. It is lying to myself. The first time I won my age group in a 5K was on a short course. As soon as I finished, I realized I lowered my previous mark by 1+ minute. I knew it was not possible. I took my age group win and gladly display my medal at home, but I won’t consider it my PR. I haven’t even gotten close to that one again.
If a race is long, then too bad! I do not adjust my PR. I would take it if I established one despite the extra distance, but I won’t adjust it to where I crossed the half-marathon mark, or to the best 10K during my 10.5K run. The official records won’t adjust. If I am 100% sure the course was long, then I would try again.
The leading peloton at the 2017 Venice Marathon realized they’ve screwed up and the local wins.
Additional considerations
This may be a stretch for this blog post, but, since we are talking about racecourses, there is another point to consider. As a runner, it is my responsibility to know the path of my race. If you make a wrong turn, there is no time adjustment. If you cut the course (hopefully unintentionally), then it is for you to own the mistake and certainly not adjust a PR based on what it could have been.
Most of my readers won’t be leading the pack in a race, but if you do, make sure you pay attention to your course. In 1994, German Silva was leading the NYC Marathon with half a mile to go when he followed the TV truck leaving the course. He turned around and was able to save the victory. Not so lucky were six runners in the leading peloton of the 2017 Venice Marathon, who followed the lead motorcycle after it made a wrong turn, opening the door for an Italian winner and a conspiracy theory.
I would like to know what your experiences with mismeasured racecourses and screwed PRs are. Let me know in the box below.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Between the time this article was written and the time it was published, the organization of the mismeasured race that prompted this post sent an email acknowledging the error, apologizing, and vowing it won’t happen again.
As 2024 approaches (or it is already here depending on when you are reading this post) and we look forward to a blank canvas to fill out with new goals, challenges, and adventures, we quickly turn our heads back to the year that was, to reminisce and reflect on our running year.
We saw marathon world records fall to the point where it seems feasible that 2024 will give us the first sub-2 marathon for men and first sub-2:10 for women. We are just 36 and 114 seconds away from such feats. We saw the 6-star finisher list growing to 8,143 and it is a matter of time before a 7th Major is included. Many of our friends set PRs in their marathons, shorter distances or just lost their 26.2 virginities. But, for many of us, 2023 was a challenging year. One that tested our core as runner beings. I was in that latter group.
Winning my Age Group at the Plantation F*ck Cancer 5K was one of the few highlight of my 2023 running season.
I completed the 1000-mile challenge with just three days to spare. And sure, it is a nice achievement, but it doesn’t tell the whole story of my 2023. At least I did not get any injury and beyond the normal aches and pains, was able to run throughout the year with no interruption. That alone is a win. Still, it was far from what I expected it to be 12 months ago.
For some reason, it was very difficult to get into the running groove during the year. In my two half marathons early in the season, I was forced to walk after mile 10, finishing in unimpressive times that are embarrassing for me, when compared to what I have done in the recent past. I also had to withdraw from the Marine Corps Marathon because my body could not adjust to the heat and humidity of summer training in South Florida. It was impossible for me to complete more than 8 miles in one run, so I focused on 5 and 10K races until the end of the year. Those are not my favorite distances, as I prefer to go longer, but this was the adjustment that was required, and I am OK with it. I even won my age group in a local 5K, a rare occurrence.
For the first time in the last 15 years if felt little motivation to lace up and run. For the first time in recent memory, I dreaded waking up early on a weekend to go run long. Anxiety from my professional life, which was at an all-time high during the year, crept into my running life and affected me negatively. I gained weight, slowed down and lost the will to dig deep when a run got tough.
My lowest point was one day around September when for the first time ever, or at least that I can recall, I went out for a run and before the first minute was through, I decided I did not want to do this, so I stopped and drove home. Not before stopping at a gas station and stuffing up on cookies and chips. I still look back and can’t believe this happened.
Yet, I kept running. After more than 40 years of being active, I know how you will feel after a good run. The support of my two running groups kept me accountable and sometimes I just forced myself to go out despite not feeling it.
I completed a handful of races with not many results to brag about.
I have tried to pinpoint where the problem lies but I haven’t been able to do so. Maybe it is because I am approaching 60. Maybe two and a half years after my open-heart surgery I must accept I won’t be able to run the same as before. Maybe the anxiety my work life has put me through for the last 18 months is taking a toll on me. Maybe my peak running years are behind me. Maybe it is a combination of everything.
But this difficult year has been an opportunity to analyze life from a different perspective and realize I am still very blessed. My running life is not my life, it is just part of it. My value as a husband, as a father, as a friend, as a son, as a coach or as a professional, is not tied to my marathon PR or my medal rack display at home. I still have a healthy marriage with a wife I adore, a healthy and successful son, both my parents are alive in their eighties and living independently, I have a thriving coaching business, I am part of a phenomenal running community with true friends, and I am injury free. At this stage in my life this is more valuable than running sub-2 in the half once again, or setting up another PR. I call this maturity.
This does not mean I have given up on improvement. I still want to go over 1000 miles in 2024. I still want to run at least 4 or 5 halves and be part of one marathon cycle. I want to get rid of the source of anxiety and lose the extra pounds I added in 2023. I thank God that He is providing me with 12 brand-new, crisp, months to achieve it all.
I originally published this blog post about three years ago under the title “The Trap of Information Overload”. I have coached many new runners since and one of the constants I’ve observed is how they get sucked into the need to track irrelevant parameters just because their watches display them. This is regardless of whether they understand what such parameters are actually measuring. Thus, I have decided to rerun this post, with a few updates. I hope you find it useful.
Is this you while checking your watch during or after every run?
Let’s start by stating that I see nothing wrong with being on Strava, having an Instagram account to share your runs, or checking Facebook every so often to see what your running buddies are up to. It is great to live in an era where we can be in contact with people we haven’t seen in decades, stay connected with that cousin who moved to another country, or your buddies from elementary school you rarely have the chance to see anymore.
It is great to make social media acquaintances with people you\’ve never met in person. I follow a Dutch runner named @mistermarathon on Instagram, who follows me back. When I visited Amsterdam a few years back, he took me for a running tour of the city; we had coffee at the Rijksmuseum and had a great talk. A few years later, he visited Florida, and even though I was injured and couldn’t run, we met for coffee and had another enjoyable conversation. It was great!
But there must be a limit. The data overload from social media, from our watches, from WhatsApp groups, and from measuring up to every stranger who follows our social channels is stealing the joy from many a runner. We should run because we like it. So, if something is stealing our bliss, it must go; or at least, its presence must be adjusted.
Yes, a pre-run picture with your buddies is cool, but if you missed it, you could still run. Skipping the recording of one run because your watch has no battery is not an excuse to miss a scheduled training. Checking your favorite elite runner on Strava and matching their training is a recipe for injury. Thinking that an ultrarunner in Germany, Australia, or Argentina is your buddy because he likes your posts on a regular basis is the prelude for a letdown. Wanting to run from New York to Los Angeles because so-and-so did it, is insanity.
Unless you know what a parameter is measuring, let it go!
It all starts with regulating the consumption of information we get from our GPS watches. It is wonderful to have all the information we could possibly need at a wrist flip. But, with certain exceptions dictated by a specific segment of your training program, the usefulness of such information is relatively innocuous. It is just a reflection of what you are doing, not what you are doing. It is not your worth as an athlete or as a human being. You don’t have to pause the watch because you hit a red light, or because you stopped at the water fountain. You don’t have to check your cadence or vertical oscillation every mile unless you are specifically working on it. And don’t get me started on VO2Max: If you don’t know what it measures, don’t dwell on it. You get the point.
I am amazed by the data that the watch keeps track of. NASA didn’t have such access to astronauts on the Moon. Most of it is great for the analysis of my training, for measuring my progress, or for keeping historical data. But your watch should just serve as a recorder of your performance, not direct it.
The more I use Strava or Garmin Connect, the more I’m impressed by what they can do, but I don’t follow or stalk people I don’t know. If I want to know what a friend is doing, I call him or text her. I don’t need to know what Kelvin Kiptum is doing every day, let alone compare his progress to mine. I don’t need kudos from 50 strangers to validate my run.
Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th President of the United States, once said: “Comparison is the thief of joy”, and I agree 100% with him. Equaling it is part of human nature, and the right dosage of it may be healthy. But if we want to enjoy OUR running, we need to concentrate on what WE are doing and what WE can control. WE must center OUR running life on OUR progress, OUR failures, OUR injuries, and OUR parameters.
Most of the data is useless at the time we are running, anyway. It is afterward that we can learn something from it and make the necessary adjustments. If you list the top 100 reasons why you run, I bet that “to show up Alex in Strava”, “to have more Instagram followers than Maria,” or “to improve my likes on Facebook” won’t make the list. So, get back to basics and take advantage of the exciting tech tools available to you, but don’t become a slave to them.
In my last blog post, I wrote about learning the hard way. Within the same theme, today I bring you the story of Javier Mota, a journalist and friend who despite going out of his way to not consider himself a runner, put together a 1000+ day running streak. Given his accepted stubbornness, he is currently paying the consequences of not listening to his body. With his permission, I am publishing an article he wrote about his experience.
Good and bad consequences after running every day for 3 years and 21 days.
The diagnosis by Dr. Luis Valenzuela from the Meds Clinic in Santiago de Chile, which stopped my 3 years and 21 days of running every day, was forceful:
“You obviously have internal femorotibial osteoarthritis, with a degenerative tear of the internal meniscus. Also, chondral lesions in the patella. There is bone edema of the medial femoral condyle and medial tibial plateau due to joint wear and overload.”
Javier Mota is a renowned automotive journalist and a friend. (Photo: courtesy of Javier Mota)
In simple words, the MRI results showed how badly I messed up my left knee, mainly due to a clear case of the fine line between stubbornness and stupidity.
In hindsight, I should have stopped running when the pain and discomfort began on March 15, 2023, but out of my stubbornness, rather than determination or discipline, I ran 5 additional months in pain, first trying to reach the 1,000-day mark and then, 3 years.
The additional 21 days only confirmed my lack of good sense and probably made things worse.
“Pain is not normal”, another orthopedic doctor once told me during a casual conversation in a bar in St. George, Utah, after I insisted on running for a couple of months despite the discomfort.
Long before that, when I reached the 2-year mark, in August 2022, Dr. Scott Lang, University of Central Florida´s Professor of Family Medicine, warned me: “Never run in pain. If you have muscle pain or joint pain when you run, ice it and rest. If the pain persists for more than a week, see your doctor”.
Obviously, I did not pay attention and on August 21, 2023, at the end of my annual ski trip to Chile, I finally decided to have my left knee checked by Dr. Valenzuela, who after a quick visual and tactile examination, immediately determined that an MRI was necessary.
Of course, between the time that passed from the end of the MRI and the time I received the diagnosis, I went out for the last run (2.75 miles in 30:36) because I sensed the end of the streak was approaching, under medical prescription.
The truth is that the discomfort never reached the point of paralyzing me, although, between March 15 and August 21, 2023, I reduced the distance and speed of each run, thinking that the pain would be reduced. That didn’t happen, but it didn’t get worse either.
This is Javier’s messed up left knee (Foto: Courtesy of Javier Mota)
Dr. Valenzuela attributed this to the fact that through constant exercise for 1,115 days in a row, I was able to build enough muscle mass to absorb most of the impact on my knee.
Now, the next challenge is to dedicate myself with the same intensity to a rehabilitation program and incorporate other athletic activities, without impacting the knees to maintain the physical condition and weight (165 pounds).
Those last two were undoubtedly the biggest benefits of the running streak, which began on August 1, 2020, during the Covid pandemic, thanks to a private Facebook group, to get out of lockdown.
In all, I ran 3,257.3 miles, an average of almost 90 miles per month. The equivalent of driving from Miami to Seattle.
All this, despite the fact that I have never felt like a “real runner”. If I was, I would have followed the 3R advice of the experts to replenish, rest, and recover, and not become a “slave to the streak”, as Running Coach Adolfo Salgueiro warned me. But that’s exactly what I did.
I never warmed up before a run, nor did I stretch at the end. I have never undergone a serious training program to achieve a specific goal. Nor did I pay much attention to the advice not to wear old and worn-out shoes or to buy ones specially molded for my feet. As a consequence, I never improved my time or distance in these 3 years.
And as I said before and I repeat now, I don’t like to run. I think it’s boring, so much so that for the last few months of the streak I tried to entertain myself by picking up trash on the road, sometimes at an astonishing rate of 10+ pieces per mile. Thanks to that, and in a very unscientific way, I verified that the Modelo Especial has indeed become the most popular beer in the United States, given the number of empty cans I have found in recent months during my runs.
I also started stopping to say hello to all the dogs I saw on the trail, perhaps to justify my slower pace and to give my knee a rest, until one of them bit me on the left thigh, something unrelated to the injury, which eventually ended the streak.
Now the benefits
I always appreciated what happens when you run every day. You feel better physically and mentally, you sleep and work better, and you can eat and drink more. And you always feel good after every run, unless you get bitten by a dog.
Also, it was great to receive encouragement from other runners, non-runners and even from companies like New Balance and Apple who sent me products as an incentive to keep the streak alive; and from car brands that celebrated some of the streak’s milestones when they coincided with some of their test driving programs around the world.
One of the 1,021 consecutive runs that lead to the devastating injury (Foto: Courtesy of Javier Mota)
It was also a pleasure to run in 16 countries and over 100 cities.
But what I enjoyed the most was the daily challenge of finding the time and place to run every day, despite the complications of constant travel as part of my job as an automotive journalist.
The longest run (almost 9 miles) was in Munich, Germany, on September 2021, not because I wanted to run that distance, but because I got lost. The fastest run was a 10K at a pace of 7:58 minutes per mile, at home.
On December 31, 2022, I checked out at 11:30 p.m. to complete the daily 5k and then did another one starting right at midnight and ending on January 1st. 2023 to start the New Year.
Several times, I landed at an airport and got out of the car on the way to the hotel so I could run before the end of the day. I also ran inside various airports, before and after flights.
So, in the end, it was a good run while it lasted, but I have a few points to consider now that this is all over:
First, I do not recommend it to anyone! It’s easy to become addicted, even a slave to personal achievement like this one.
And most importantly, as I’ve learned the hard way, it’s essential to recognize that running every day for an extended period, not only can, but surely will cause injury sooner or later.
In conclusion, listen to the experts and to your body; take adequate rest when necessary to prevent exhaustion and possible long-term health problems.
Without a doubt, this streak of three years and 21 days was an extraordinary journey, which some have called “an example of determination, discipline and the pursuit of personal goals”, but it is also important to remember that the physical conditioning process of each individual is unique and must be approached with care and respect for one’s own body.
Maybe I will run again someday, but I will never run every day for 3 years and 21 days.
Javier Mota is a renowned automotive journalist and a friend. You can follow him on Instagram @javiermota, or at his website: https://autos0to60.com/. He made a YouTube video with his original post. If you want to check it out, you can do so by clicking here – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8sdfsl0c9w
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