Kid n’Play

On Wednesday nights, a group of us get together for a weekly run around the Boulevard on the East Side of Providence. We're a mix of former Div I and Div III athletes, as well as a few "weekend warriors" thrown in between. Some of us run 25 miles a week, others are well into 70 and 80 miles a week as they ramp up for marathons and even ultra marathons. I think the youngest in the group is around 27 years old, the oldest is in his late 40's, but we all seem to run around the same pace and enjoy the conversation over our 7 mile loop.

Last week we were talking about our training regimens, and how some of us are doing speed workouts while others are just running distance. We were comparing these workouts to what we did in college, and how fast we used to run them. We compared the benefits of repeat quarter miles versus tempo runs at race pace, and heart rate-based versus time-based recoveries. I mentioned that it's been about 10 years since I used any of this knowledge "in practice." That's when the old jokes started coming around, and we all made comments about how good we "used to be." I joked about the fact that I was a faster runner in middle school than I am right now, but I then realized that it's 100% true. (5:09 mile at age13, slower than 5:09 at age 32...)

Back at that age, running was easy, fun, and just come naturally. I didn't think about what pace to run at, how far to go, or what to eat before I stepped foot on the track. It wasn't a mental exercise for me, it wasn't something I planned my day around. It was just fun. We'd scamper around the track, play tag as we sprinted back and forth around the ball fields, and goofed around more than we trained. I don't remember having to match my pairs of socks, or to rotate my shoes when they started to get old. I just ran, and it was fun.

20 years later, running is still "fun" for me. It keeps me in shape, it helps me relax, and it allows me to eat as much food as I want ('cause I LOVE food.) I've also picked up cycling along the way, as I want to be able to train for many more years to come. But, while it's fun, it doesn't bring with it that same care-free attitude. I don't have to free-flowing form or that effortless glide. A 5 mile run feels just as laboring as a 12 mile run. What used to be a sense of "play" for me, is now "work." I have fun doing it, but it's certainly not easy.

As I say that, I'd like to tell you about my bike ride this afternoon. I rode with a couple guys I train with on those Wednesday night runs. The three of us are all quick on the bike, and can churn some pretty big gears. With the sun setting (it's the Autumn now, sniff...) we tore off to a local park called Lincoln Woods, which boasts a twisty, hilly 2.5 mile loop. I've done a few runs at this park, and always wished that I had my bike with me. But, until tonight, I never had the change to actually do a loop on two wheels. The loop itself is open to walkers, cyclists, and unfortunately, cars. But, they (the cars) are few and far between, and it's a one-way loop, minimizing the confusion on the road. Along the 2.5 mile loop one can find 40mph downhills, decreasing radius hairpin corners, and an uphill "corkscrew" that leaves your quads screaming for oxygen. If you time your efforts right, you can probably average close to 30 mph for the loop! After an "easy" warm-up lap, we decided to do a hard effort around the next loop, and launched ourselves into a quick pace line. With the darkness setting in I couldn't read my speedometer, nor did I get a chance to record a split for the loop. But man were we flying! We were tucking in around the corners and nailing the apexes, trying to extract the maximum amount of speed from each corner. By the time we hit the uphill corkscrew, my legs were screaming! A quick little crest of that hill and back down we went, full blast towards the end of the loop. We hit the line and all slumped over our handlebars, gasping for air. It was painful, it was tiring, and my legs are complete mush now, 5 hrs later. But, there's something about that speed, that wind trying to rip the sleeves off your shirt and the glasses off your head. It's a blast, it's an adrenaline rush that I no longer get when I'm running, and it's a hell of a lot of fun! While we rode back, I continued to suck in air and tried to catch my breath. However, that huge grin on my face made it hard to do so. I had found that free-flowing form, that effortless glide. It was fun, and I can't wait until it's time to play again.

Be that kid and find the play in your life, and always remember to have fun.

Ben