Going Tribal

Another week in the SwimEx. I've been really trying to work it lately, pushing my body to its limit in the pool to take advantage of the low-impact training. My leg, while slowly getting better, is not in a hurry to repair itself completely; I figure I'll be back in another 5-10 days, but who knows. I've accepted the fact that this season is pretty much over competitively, and now I just want to return to running so I can get back in shape and have some fun. The limits placed on my training over the past few weeks have given me a lot of time to think, and I've come to realize a few things:

1. I have been injured more or less continually for the past 16 months.

2. These injuries are all chronic, over-use injuries. I nearly always have at least one at any given time, sometimes multiple.

3. Russ and the athletic trainers have put me through every treatment imaginable in the attempt to fight off these injuries, yet nothing but old fashioned ice has had any effect.

4. I've also been guided towards the use of increasingly more supportive and well-cushoined (not to mention more expensive) shoes, as well as insoles, arch supports, heel gel cushoins, etc.

5. Despite the increase in technology put into my shoes and treatments, I'm getting hurt more frequently and for longer periods.


After putting all this together I've made a conclusion: None of it is helping.




I'm currently reading the best selling book, Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. This fascinating (and highly entertaining) tale recounts the experiences of the author as he ran the treacherous trails and cliffs of Mexican no-man's-land, slowly transforming himself from a tall, gangly injury-magnet into an ultramarathoner. He's joined by a small crew of runners from all over the country, each expressing their love for the sport in unique and colorful ways. There's a couple of California surfers who spend their days running along the beach while listening to Beat poetry, a vegan champion known for his primal screams at the start of every race, a trainer who's coached ordinary people into superathletes, and a seemingly crazy barefoot fanatic who deftly picks his way through the trickiest of terrain while relying on nothing but the natural design of his feet. They are all led by a mysterious man whom the Mexicans call the "White Horse," an American who left everything behind to live among a tribe of running machines hiding in seclusion deep within canyons visited by few outsiders other than the occasional drug traffickers. The group hopes to link up with these tribesmen for a 50 mile race that no one would watch.



I haven't finished the book yet, but it's already pointed something out to me: If you really want to be great at running, you need to love it. You need to live it. You need to become a runner. Running is not what you do. It's who you are.



Faced with the fact that all the modern sports science has failed, I've decided to throw it all away. I'm starting over with a clean slate. As of this moment I'm overhauling my diet, going back to the more or less vegetarian cuisine that I used to love in my high school days. I'm getting rid of processed carbs, or processed anything for that matter, and focusing more on whole grains, fruits, and vegetables. When I finally ease back into running, I'm ditching my expensive Brooks Glycerins and the high arch supports in favor of...my feet. I'm going barefoot as much as possible, weather and conditions permitting. I might even try to dig up a cheap pair of generic running shoes with as little cushoining as possible. I'm going to be the best teammate I can be. I'm going to stop worrying so much about my own performance and just enjoy the ride. I'm going against the flow, rebelling against everything my coaches and trainers have taught me over the past few years, and seeing what happens. I'm not going to train. I'm going to run. I'm going to be who I want to be, not who scientists and coaches and all the "experts" tell me to be. I'm might end up going to nationals next year, or I might end up exactly where I am now. I'm just going to do it, and I'll find out how things work as I go along.

Let the revolution begin.