Racing in the street

Tonight, tonight the strip's just right
I wanna blow 'em off in my first heat
Summer's here and the time is right
For racin' in the street

I came across a link to an opinion in the Globe and Mail today. It seems that this fellow has gained a following for being controversially tough on mediocrity. Apparently it started with a letter to the editor of People Magazine, criticizing their categorization of Katie Holmes' NYC marathon as "impressive." Katie took 5.5 hours to finish the thing. Howard Stern once said "A five hour marathon is not running--it's blocking traffic."

I agree with Mr. Gilfillan, the author of the opinion piece and the letter to People, and I agree with Howard Stern. Many others do not. They think such an opinion is elitist, disrespectful, and arrogant. But I think the point is being lost in all the self-righteous "Hey, a 2:30 half marathon is pretty good for me" business. Let's examine what is really being said here.

First of all, the main point of the opinion piece is not an attack on slow runners. It is a lament for a lack of fast runners. I can see how this might enjoin a "what, I'm not good enough for you?" reaction from those who might not make the cut of "fast" but let's face facts: the average finish time for a marathon in Canada has shot up since the incursion of the Running Room on the scene (or earlier), and the number of fast finishes (say, under 2:20) has plummeted. It would be easy to connect the two, and blame the slow people for the lack of fast people, but that would be wrong. Well, almost wrong.

Of course average times will go up: there are way more people, and the bulk of them are slower. There are reasons to hail this as a good thing. It means more people are exercising. It means more people are getting involved in running, specifically, which we runners like because we want everyone to think running is important (or at least to think we are not abnormal). This is cool. Or it would be cool if there had not been a corresponding drop in elite and sub-elite times. The total number of finishers has shot way up, but it's not like there are limited spots. If someone wanted to go and run a 2:18 marathon, someone could. John Stanton is not stopping you. At least not directly.

So how to make the connection between the two? First, it would be interesting to figure out what it takes to run a sub-2:20 marathon for men or the equivalent for women which might be around 2:45. I take these numbers because there were 9 men under 2:20 and 8 women under 2:45 at the Ottawa Marathon, which is perhaps Canada's premiere marathon. But that is up for debate (somewhere else, not here). To run that fast you have to train long and hard. It requires a lot of work, and sacrifice, and probably some level of pre-existing condition of being relatively healthy.

What does it take to run a sub-4 hour marathon? It's not that hard. All it really takes is being relatively young and healthy. I once advised a young woman (early 20s) on running a marathon. I sent her workouts by email, but she pretty much slacked off the entire summer, played soccer twice a week, partied, and didn't run. She was not sedentary, but she was not a trained runner by any means. I counseled her to not bother with the marathon because it would probably be a painful experience. She did it anyway, and managed to run 3:45. With no training.

Another example is that of the (now ex-) husband of another young woman (mid-20s) I was training. This woman was a sub-elite, former varsity runner. She could run 10k under 40min and was shooting for around a 3:00 marathon. She worked very hard at it, ate well, sacrificed lots (she was also a young mom at the same time). So a few weeks before the big race, her jack-ass of a husband (who was not supportive throughout, making the training even tougher) says, I'm gonna run, too, this marathon bit is a joke. He wandered in around 3:45, right off the couch, no training except a lot of climbing. He wasn't very nice about it, but he did it.

That fact that the absolute time of 3:45 is attainable by a reasonably healthy person with very little training severely diminishes its value to me. In absolute terms, it's not that impressive.

That said, I am not immune to the reward that can come from a slower marathon, and to the efforts required to run one. I coached a slightly overweight woman in her mid-50s whose goal was to qualify for the Boston marathon. At her age, what was required was a 3:59. It actually took her a couple years to do it, so by the time she ran her best marathon of 4:14, she was old enough that the time qualified her. And it was satisfying. And she worked for it.

It really depends who you are. I would say that this woman respected the distance, while those who ran 3:45 on a whim, maybe did not. That concept, of respecting the distance, is something that gets brought up by those lamenting the increase of slowness. But the two are not mutually exclusive. I would say this, though: why? Why do you need to run a marathon, when you could probably get the necessary health benefits, and enjoy your training just as much, by training for a 5k or 10k. That's another tangent I won't get on right now.

This idea of respect, however, connects the decline of elite road racing with the increase of mediocre participation. Attitude and respect. And money. It seems that the running "industry" of the 70s and early 80s was centered around different values. People drawn to the sport then were fighting against something, maybe. They were characters in a Bruce Springsteen song: facing a tough situation, but getting through it. That's not who runners are any more. They are characters in a Nickleback song: whining about how hard things are, but not doing anything about it. The business of running is selling the check-box of a marathon to a generation of runners who haven't really had it rough. They are sold the idea that to be a "runner" you need community, clothes, gear, and snacks. That's not what running is. It can be. But running, at least, the kind of running that elites identify with, is about athleticism, individualism and competition. The thing about elites is, they are cheap. Fast runners thinks he or she should get their shoes for free. They don't want to pay entry fees. So businesses, like the Running Room, and the companies that put on road races, do not cater to them. If the mainstream of running doesn't promote or support elites, is there any wonder we lack them?

But I believe we can have it both ways. The great thing about road races is that the best of the best run along side the recreational joggers. This is a good thing. It's not like Sidney Crosby ever really stops to play shinny with kids. Beer leaguers never get to play with real professionals. In a big road race, "garage league" runners can go head-to-head with the stars. But what I find unfortunate, is the lack of respect that some of the recreational runners seem to have for the elites. Racing is a sport. It's a game, a competition, there are scores. Faster running is a better score. That's really all there is to it. It boggles my mind when I hear slower runners trying to rationalize that somehow the "real" story is the back-of-the-packer who struggles through 4:30, but the dude who breaks 2:18 on his first marathon is not that interesting. You never hear recreational hockey players describing their exploits as being tougher or more impressive than a professional's. At least not in earnest.

The reason why elites get annoyed at the focus on mediocre runners (and partially why the slower runners don't care about the elites) is because each group thinks the other is having a totally different experience. To be fair: I'm generalizing about both sides. There are plenty of elites who respect what an age-group runner goes through, and there are Gallowalkers who are great fans of the best in the sport. But I have heard comments from both sides that show this disconnect. The beauty of the sport is that everyone suffers the same during the race. Even if you are walking for most of your 5:00 marathon, it ain't easy. And while the winners might seem effortless as they cross the line after "only" 2:15 of running at the peak of their aerobic capacity, trust me, they are hurting. But this isn't the message we hear in the media. We hear "run easy" and "a 10 minute mile is the same distance as a 6 minute mile."

I hope that the reaction to an article like Gilfillan's can be, not to cry foul, but to try to find that dirty, gritty hope inside that despite what you are, you can be better. Mediocrity is not really measured by final race time. I think it's fair to say that. The problem is that if people start to think that a mediocre race time is "ok" or "pretty good" then they are only short-changing themselves. If someone runs a 4:15 marathon, and they have thrashed themselves within an inch of their life, then kudos to them. But that's not what we see out there. We see walk breaks, medals just for finishing, and smiles across the finish line. To me, that's disappointing. I know that is not the best you can do. And that's why Gilfillan is saying: you can do better. Do better.