So last week, we discussed the topic of overtraining, concluding that the human body--while considerably adaptable to stress--is fragile on the whole, and appears to pays a heavy price for years and decades of continuous heavy training.
With that said, training appears essential for bringing out any distance runner's fullest potential in the sport. The contemporary example of Galen Rupp under Alberto Salazar is but one example of how a sound training approach can yield improvements over the course of several years. Just because some genetically-gifted runners have performed incredible feats on little training does not mean their potential in the sport was ever reached. The question then seems to be, how shall one maximize one's racing potential while avoiding the chronic issues associated with overtraining? The method I'd like to discuss in this post is peaking.
In a 2005 article for Running Times magazine, Dr. Peter Pfitzinger suggests that, "Peaking implies a sharp improvement in performance followed by a 'slide down the other side '" (Link). The effect of a peak is therefore temporary. Many people accept this fact if it brings them a desired result (a race victory, pr, Olympic gold, etc.). The point is, while hard work appears essential in fulfilling one's running potential, an intelligent application of one's ability to peak seems essential in fulfilling one's racing potential. As the discussion on overtraining highlighted, runners who trained heavily all the time sometimes produced fantastic races, but flopped badly in others; they had great talent and a considerable body of training, but they couldn't consistently bring out their best abilities on race day, especially as they trained even harder to make up for the poor result. So in order to perform well (which includes racing), one needs to understand how to utilize their training to achieve the maximum performance potential on the date of the performance. This maximum performance potential is what I imply by the term "peak."
So how does one peak in distance running? According to Dr. Tim Noakes, the earliest discussions of peaking appear in works by Franz Stampfl (Roger Bannister's coach), swimming coach Forbes Carlile, and running coach Arthur Lydiard. While differing in their details, the essential goal is the same; how to bring the athlete to the desired peak on the day of the competition. Both Carlile and Lydiard divide the year into training phases, emphasizing different types of work in each phase. For Lydiard, these phases include marathon training, hill work, speed work, and finally sharpening. Each phase builds upon its predecessor, making the athlete first very physically fit, and then very racing fit (See more here). The peak is therefore achieved not by incessant heavy training, but by the application of progressively more race-specific training as the competition approaches, culminating in a brief-but-intense period of sharpening in the weeks leading up to the big race.
Dividing a season into phases is known as periodization, and continues to be utilized today. The physiologist Jack Daniels suggests that an ideal season lasts approximately 24 weeks, involving 4, 6-week phases. Like Lydiard's system, each phase in the Daniels' season emphasizes a different aspect of training, leading ultimately to a peak racing season. In this way--much like Lydiard--Daniels' program attempts first to build a person's general fitness, and then to hone their racing fitness. Clearly then, while similar, general fitness and racing fitness appear to be two distinct things.
This is made clearer by Daniels' discussion of seasons which deviate from the ideal (here). For example, if one has only 6-weeks with which to prepare for a big race, Daniels suggests 3-weeks of Phase I training (foundation/injury-prevention) followed by 3-weeks of Phase IV training (final quality). By skipping the Phases II and III, the athlete naturally neglects a fuller development of their overall fitness before preparing the body to race. Yet this appears to be the trade-off that such an athlete would have to face if given only 6-weeks to prepare for a big competition. Simply put, when given so little time within the context, the need to get race fit supersedes the need to get generally fit.
By now, however, you might be wondering how it's possible to differentiate between race fitness and general fitness. After all, doesn't a person need to be exceedingly fit to race well?
The evidence suggests that where peaking for a race is concerned, there is a difference between race fitness and general fitness. In a sub-section describing the science of sharpening, Dr. Tim Noakes cites several studies showing the marked improvement made by athletes who underwent a period of sharpening training. For example, Noakes cites a study which:
"...showed that replacing 15% (about 50km) of a group of cyclists' usual 300-km-per-week training with six twice-weekly sessions of 6 to 8 five-minute rides at 80% V02max or 90% of their maximum heart rates improved their times in a 40-km cycling time-trial in the laboratory by 2 minutes (3.6%). Doubling the total number of training sessions by lengthening the high-intensity training program from three to six weeks did not produce additional benefit (Westgarth-Taylor et al. 1997)" (Noakes, Lore of Running, 305).
A similar study in runners produced a 2.6% improvement in a 3000m time-trial.
As Noakes describes, it is unclear upon what physiological basis these improvements can be laid. The short duration in which these changes occur seem to preclude the possibility that oxygen is suddenly more able to reach the muscles, "thereby rendering them less anaerobic." To put it simply, the athlete's general fitness does not appear to be greatly altered by the sharpening training, yet their racing ability improved a few percentage points in a matter of weeks. How?
Noakes believes the changes occur "in the nervous system, so that sharpening training increases the mass of skeletal muscle that can be recruited during exercise before the central governor is maximally activated, terminating exercise. According to this theory, sharpening training reprograms the subconscious brain to accept a higher exercise intensity as safe than the governor was prepared to allow before sharpening training took place" (Noakes, 306). In this way, one's ability in races can improve without any marked improvement in general fitness. My own experience supports this idea, having found that recent workouts and races allowed me to push a harder pace in subsequent races. Interestingly, sharpening can only be reasonably performed for 8-12 weeks, as the greater intensity appears to make the body more susceptible to infection and injury. One might think of it as riding a knife's edge.
There is another side to the concept of peaking, and it is commonly known as tapering. There are all manner of tapers in the vogue these days, but they all tend to share an element of reducing overall work in the lead-up to competition. The question for our purposes then, is what is the ideal taper?
Dr. Noakes cites a number of studies which offer clues. A study by Shepley (1992) found a taper program of 5x500m on day 1, 4x500m day 2, 3x500m day 3, 2x500m day 4, and 1x500m on day 5 "produced significantly better performances during a maximal run lasting 6 minutes than did either complete rest or low-intensity training entailing a total of 30km of 50%-60% V02max over the same five-day period" (Noakes, 320).
A study by D.T. Martin (1994) found an increase in muscle power in cyclists engaged in a 2-week taper. A study by Hourman and Colleagues (1994) noted a 2.8% improvement in 5k times (9-30 seconds) in sub-elites who reduced mileage and took up interval training at 5k pace. Interestingly, this improvement could not be accounted for by changes in V02max or blood lactate concentrations (Noakes, 320).
Finally, a more recent study (abstract here, summary here) by Scott Trappe (2010) of Ball State found that a reduction in mileage (73% of maximal milage week 1, 73% of maximal mileage week 2, and 50% maximal mileage week 3) led to significantly improved 8km times for the cross-country team involved in the study (average time dropped from 27:42 to 26:12 in those three weeks). Furthermore, it was found that the thigh and calf muscles of the athletes involved increased in size, and became stronger, specifically, the Type-2a muscle ("fast oxidative" or "fatigue-resistant A") fibers. The improvements in performance appear to come primarily from the increased strength of these muscles, since other physiological indicators (V02max, running economy, etc.) remained constant.
Importantly, these results were achieved by reducing "moderate" miles in the athlete's program, not the easy runs or the interval sessions. Tempo runs and fast distance runs were eliminated in the three-week period, giving way to recovery runs and sharpening intervals.
So what can we draw from all this? Namely, that peak performance in racing is a function not only of general fitness but also of race fitness, which appears to be combination of muscle strength and neural allowances by the central governor in the brain. Accordingly, it is entirely possible to be in the best shape of your life and still race poorly (and conversely, to be in sub-par shape and still race decently). In order to maximize one's racing ability, one has to not only become quite fit generally, but also effectively utilize peaking and tapering to bring the body's race fitness to it's highest level on the important day.
At present, the studies cited above suggest that an ideal peaking/tapering method involves three things: a sufficient background of base training, a reduction in "moderate" paced mileage leading up to the competition, and a short-but-intense period of sharpening in close proximity to the big race. These methods do not appear to improve V02max or other physiological indicators of general fitness, but rather affect the structure of the muscles, the allowances of the sub-conscious brain, and the interface between them. The sum of all this would appear to be marked (and short-term) improvements in racing fitness.
It's important to remember that people are unique, and have subtly different requirements where training is concerned. For some people, a peak is relatively easy to reach a number of times a year, while for others, peaking requires more time, but once achieved, lasts longer. A thorough investigation of one's self or of one's charges in this regard would appear essential. A deep appreciation of an individual athlete's particular needs, lifestyle, fears, and ability should be taken into account when considering the development of a training program in general, and a peaking program in particular.
Further research may help to hone our understanding of how to maximize both general fitness and racing fitness. I encourage you to read the literature yourself, and devise experiments to test those assumptions that science has made, and which you might make in your own analysis. Much luck to you in this endeavor, and of course,
Happy Thursday, friends :)
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Of two minds, one slow and one fast
A short op-ed appeared in yesterday's online The New York Times, entitled "Who You Are," by David Brooks. In it, he briefly discusses some ideas from psychologist Daniel Kahneman's new book, "Thinking, Fast and Slow."
The book is said to encapsulate Kahneman's (with the help of his now-late assistant, Amos Tverskey) big insight into human psychology, which suggests that people are not entirely in control of all their thinking. Sub-conscious biases and maxims appear to influence the way people make decisions without them realizing it. It's not that all thinking is governed in this way; rather, as Mr. Brooks states:
"We are dual process thinkers. We have two interrelated systems running in our heads. One is slow, deliberate, and arduous (our conscious reasoning). The other is fast, associative, automatic and supple (our unconscious pattern recognition)."
Mr. Brooks illustrates the general differences in these ways of thinking by invoking two popular works, one emphasizing each method. "In popular terms," he says, "think of it as the debate between Moneyball (look at the data) and 'Blink' (go with your intuition)."
If you're unfamiliar with those works, that's okay, the links should help. The point is, evidence is mounting to suggest that the old way of understanding our own mind is not entirely accurate. "50 years ago," says Brooks, "people may have assumed we are captains of our own ships, but, in fact, our behavior is often aroused by context in ways we can't see." Thinking humans are not merely "rational agents" who "depart from reason...because some passion like fear or love has distorted their judgment." Kahneman and Tverseky have shown that, "...the flaws are not just in the passions but in the machinery of cognition" itself.
This would seem an important understanding. It might even be scary. The point is, the better we understand the reality of our own minds--to the extent that it is possible--the more likely it seems that we might come to terms with those tendencies and habits which lead to grief and harm, both to ourselves and others. To realize that a portion of our cognition is informed by biases, rules-of-thumb, and other maxims without our awareness may allow us to bring them before the light of our own reason, and thereby subject them to conscious investigation. Just as importantly, however, simply knowing these sub-conscious elements exist may help us to better align our lives with our values.
Appreciating that some things are within our control and some are not, would seem a good first step in this process. In fact, this point constitutes the opening lines of the Roman slave Epicetus' stoic handbook, the Enchiridion. Accordingly, one essential element of stoic philosophy is the delineation between those things within one's control and those things outside of one's control. To rightly understand this distinction is to allow one to focus fully on those things one can control, and to cease worrying about those things one cannot.
What Kahneman and Tverskey have shown is that the mind's thinking methods itself can be investigated and divided in like manner. Perhaps Epictetus and the other Stoics would have agreed. The point is, the evidence suggests that the mind has a diverse collection of cognitive tools, some intuitive and some conscious. Realizing that you have both may help clarify some things in your own mind. It may also help you understand the ways of others. Something to consider perhaps.
Happy Friday, friends :).
The book is said to encapsulate Kahneman's (with the help of his now-late assistant, Amos Tverskey) big insight into human psychology, which suggests that people are not entirely in control of all their thinking. Sub-conscious biases and maxims appear to influence the way people make decisions without them realizing it. It's not that all thinking is governed in this way; rather, as Mr. Brooks states:
"We are dual process thinkers. We have two interrelated systems running in our heads. One is slow, deliberate, and arduous (our conscious reasoning). The other is fast, associative, automatic and supple (our unconscious pattern recognition)."
Mr. Brooks illustrates the general differences in these ways of thinking by invoking two popular works, one emphasizing each method. "In popular terms," he says, "think of it as the debate between Moneyball (look at the data) and 'Blink' (go with your intuition)."
If you're unfamiliar with those works, that's okay, the links should help. The point is, evidence is mounting to suggest that the old way of understanding our own mind is not entirely accurate. "50 years ago," says Brooks, "people may have assumed we are captains of our own ships, but, in fact, our behavior is often aroused by context in ways we can't see." Thinking humans are not merely "rational agents" who "depart from reason...because some passion like fear or love has distorted their judgment." Kahneman and Tverseky have shown that, "...the flaws are not just in the passions but in the machinery of cognition" itself.
This would seem an important understanding. It might even be scary. The point is, the better we understand the reality of our own minds--to the extent that it is possible--the more likely it seems that we might come to terms with those tendencies and habits which lead to grief and harm, both to ourselves and others. To realize that a portion of our cognition is informed by biases, rules-of-thumb, and other maxims without our awareness may allow us to bring them before the light of our own reason, and thereby subject them to conscious investigation. Just as importantly, however, simply knowing these sub-conscious elements exist may help us to better align our lives with our values.
Appreciating that some things are within our control and some are not, would seem a good first step in this process. In fact, this point constitutes the opening lines of the Roman slave Epicetus' stoic handbook, the Enchiridion. Accordingly, one essential element of stoic philosophy is the delineation between those things within one's control and those things outside of one's control. To rightly understand this distinction is to allow one to focus fully on those things one can control, and to cease worrying about those things one cannot.
What Kahneman and Tverskey have shown is that the mind's thinking methods itself can be investigated and divided in like manner. Perhaps Epictetus and the other Stoics would have agreed. The point is, the evidence suggests that the mind has a diverse collection of cognitive tools, some intuitive and some conscious. Realizing that you have both may help clarify some things in your own mind. It may also help you understand the ways of others. Something to consider perhaps.
Happy Friday, friends :).
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Discussion of Overtraining
This past week, the world record for oldest person to run a full-length marathon was broken by Fauja Singh, a 100 year-old man who currently lives in England. His finishing time of 8:16:25 is almost exactly four times longer than the current men's marathon world record (2:03:38 by Patrick Makau, of Kenya), which is none too shabby for a centenarian. But the achievement is as instructive as it is remarkable, for Mr. Singh's example reinforces current theories on the subject of overtraining in endurance athletics.
An understanding of overtraining, while fragmentary, has only begun to take hold in competitive distance-running circles over the last few decades. As Dr. Tim Noakes notes in his work The Lore of Running:
"When I was running competitively in the 1970s, the concept that runners could train too hard was anathema and was quickly dismissed by runners with whom I ran. Indeed, an early article I wrote on the topic was passed off as evidence that I was just too lazy."
Yet according to Noakes, "the signs were everywhere. Dave Bedford, the hardest trainer of the era, performed poorly in the 1972 Olympic Games. My friend Dave Levick, who won the 1971 London-to-Brighton Marathon and the 1973 Comrades Marathon in record time after finishing second in the 1971 race, performed increasingly poorly the harder he trained in later years. The performances of Alberto Salazar, who trained and raced hard in the late 1970s and early 1980s, suddenly fell off precipitously" (Noakes, The Lore of Running, 4th Edition, 510).
But what is overtraining? The word itself suggests it involves training too much, but that doesn't tell us a lot. How does training too much affect the body?
Muscle damage appears to be one element. Several studies in the 1980s found that marathon running led to muscle damage requiring upwards of six-weeks from which to recover. It was noted in one of these studies that "veteran runners did have some areas of fibrosis in their muscles, suggesting incomplete repair." That study suggested that the muscles damaged most were those most energy depleted. However, Dr. Noakes suggests that "it is the persistent and repetitive eccentric loading of the muscles, and not energy depletion, that causes this muscle damage" (Noakes, 501).
Evidence also suggests that the fatigue associated with overtraining may be due not only to damaged muscles, but also a reduced capacity of the brain to recruit muscles during exercise. Dr. Noakes suggests this could "act as a protective mechanism. By preventing the athlete from continuing to train when in the overtrained state, the brain is acting to prevent any further damage" (Noakes, 505).
Finally, some studies suggest that overtraining reduces the ability of the body to respond to stress due to exhaustion of the hypothalamus, which regulates the body's hormonal response. Exhaustion of the hypothalamus has been noted in athletes who trained heavily (125-200km a week), though the degree of exhaustion was less than that of overtrained athletes.
To all this, Dr. Noakes states:
"To summarize, bodily changes caused by overtraining include the following:
-Histological changes in muscle, including evidence of muscle fiber and mitochondrial abnormalities. In athletes who suffer from impaired athletic performance after years of decades of heavy training, there may also be alterations in the genetic material in the exercised muscles, suggestion that those muscles have a reduced capacity to respond to the stress of exercise, to repair damage after exercise and to adapt to training.
-A reduced capacity of the brain to recruit the muscles used in the activity for which the athlete is trained.
-A reduced capacity of the hypothalamus-pituitary-axis to mount the normal hormonal response required to adapt to any external stress, including daily heavy training.
-Reduced sympathetic nervous system activity both at rest and during exercise (Foster and Lehmann 1997, Lehmann et al. 1997" (Noakes, 507).
In his concluding remarks on overtraining, Dr. Noakes states that, "...the evidence is absolutely clear. The body only has a finite capacity to adapt to the demands of intensive training and competition. Runners must choose, early in their careers, whether to spread that capacity over a long career, as did Bruce Fordyce and Ironman triathlete Mark Allen, or to use it up in a spectacular but short career, as did Buddy Edelen, Ron Hill, Alberto Salazar, and Steve Jones. This is the reality that both elite and nonelite athletes must confront every day that they run" (Noakes, 513).
I've quoted from Noakes extensively so as to provide a fairly clear conception of how scientists understand overtraining today. Given these conclusions, one might then be tempted to question how a 100 year-old could run a marathon. Examining the facts behind this effort offers some clues.
Perhaps most importantly, Fauja Singh was not a life-time competitive athlete, or for that matter a runner at all. As the article linked at the beginning of this post states, Mr. Singh did not begin running until he was 89 years-old. This point supports Bruce Fordyce's conclusions about master marathon records. He states that:
"The Masters [marathon] record can and will be broken, but it will be broken by a young master, a fresh master (my emphasis). By that we now understand to mean a 50 year-old who only started running in his [or her] forties. This would be a runner who has not grown ring weary and whose legs were still relatively fresh for the task of running 42km in close to 2:30. The runner will break the record, but will probably rue the fact that he didn't discover his talent in his twenties."
Mind you, Fauja Singh is twice the age of the masters runner described by Bruce Fordyce. But the record about which we're discussing isn't one of speed, but rather of longevity. And on this point, Fordyce's prediction is dead on. Mr. Singh didn't start running until he was 89 years-old, suggesting that his legs had not developed the long-term muscle damage associated with years of heavy training. Given this, it seems unlikely that similar feats will be accomplished by elites like Ryan Hall, Haile Gebrselassie, or current world-record holder Patrick Makau. The training that allows them to run world-class marathons in their youth could wear them out by the time they reach middle age.
So what can we take from all this? First, that the human body, while extraordinary in many ways, is also fragile. Franz Stampfl, Roger Bannister's coach when he broke the 4-minute mile, was caught on a torpedoed ship during World War II. From his experience surviving 8 hours in frigid North Atlantic waters, he concluded that the body was stronger than many thought. His conclusion is not unwarranted, and time and again we have seen the amazing capacity of the human body to adapt to training; the Japanese "marathon monks" are one remarkable example. Yet based upon the evidence elucidated above, this capacity appears to come at a cost. As Noakes states in his discussion on treating overtraining:
"That some athletes run long distances, including marathons, with distinction does not prove that the human body is a marathon machine any more than the conquest of Everest indicates that humans are a high-altitude species. Both indicate the extreme adaptive flexibility we have inherited. While we adapt well to a variety of opposing stresses, humans are generalists, and we lack the ability to adapt specifically to any single, severe stress, such as competitive distance running, for any great length of time" (Noakes, 509).
This point may become evident in the coming years. As we discussed in our Memorial to Sammy Wanjiru, one big trend in contemporary distance running is the tendency of talented 5k and 10k runners to take on the marathon in the prime of their career, largely because monetary incentives. This tendency has led to an marked increase in the frequency of fast marathons in recent years, especially (for the men) those falling under 2:05. Yet with so many younger marathoners taking on the intense schedule required to train for and race marathons, it seems likely that the incidence of overtraining will increase among these athletes in the coming years. The fact is that the incentives in competitive distance running make it attractive to train exceedingly hard in a short window, even if such training leads to serious health concerns in the future. The lure of a gold medal, a world record, or serious prize money, could lead to spectacularly brilliant and short running careers for today's crop of talented distance runners the world over.
A similar problem may already be happening in the United States, where most young competitive runners compete on their high school or college teams. One potential problem with this set-up is that the finite number of seasons available to high school and collegiate runners gives them (and their coaches) compelling incentives to train very hard to achieve short-term results. In my experience, winning the conference before graduation is a big incentive for many to pile on the miles during off-season training, or to put oneself through punishing workouts several times a week. Yet these practices appear to be the primary causes of overtraining, which can lead to premature decline in running ability. Talented athletes who are subjected to this type of training time and again come up short in the big competitions. The damage done prevented them from allowing their superior talent to shine.
So what can be done? Chiefly, it seems imperative to avoid overtraining. Both Tim Noakes and Jack Daniels, an exercise physiologist, emphasize the need to "achieve as much as possible on a minimum of training." The improvements on performance due to training are considerable, but not unlimited. As Daniels suggests, a cross-country coach at a college or high school should aim to improve his or her runners' times approximately 10% from their freshman year to their senior year. Further improvement might be possible, but 10% is about what one can reasonably shoot for under most circumstances.
Noakes appears to agree in principle, highlighting the genetic component of performance. As he points out, "who ever records that exceptional runners like Walter George and Alf Shrubb achieved quite remarkable performances on very low mileage? George ran a mile in 4:10.6 and a 16km run in 49:29 on little more than 3km of training per day. Even Paavo Nurmi, the most medalled Olympic runner of all times, trained pathetically little but performed exceptionally, even by today's standards" (Noakes, 291-292) Furthermore, Bill Bowerman, a former coach at the University of Oregon, usually kept his runners at or below 120km a week. The system he pioneered produced decades of collegiate dominance.
Therefore, it's important to bear in mind that while training is essential for elite athletes, it is not everything. In order to maximize one's potential, it appears imperative to work hard, but not so hard as to overtrain. Exceeding effort, ambition, and drive appear essential to success in most fields. Yet within these virtues of elite performance also reside the seeds of potential, premature decline. The need to understand how the training leads to the desired result, in this light, appears essential. As Arthur Lydiard, a famous running coach from New Zealand, once said to an assembly in Osaka, Japan:
"' Suppose you look back at the last season and there is one day where everything went right and you ran your best time of the year. If you know why you ran so well that day and you put your training together so as to produce your top form the day of the Olympics or the Japanese Championship or whatever big race you are pointing for, then you know something about training, but until you can do that, you don't know anything about training. You are just a good athlete who one day might run a good race, but you don't know when, so there's a need for better evaluation and understanding of each aspect of training, as well as how to put them together in a balanced way" (Link).
I encourage you consider the evidence and ideas presented here not as concrete fact, but as insights made by those who have studied the human body and athletic performance in a thorough way. New evidence may yet emerge which overturns these conclusions, but in light of the scientific evidence regarding distance training, it seems important not to overdo it, be it in running or any activity in life. That of course depends on how you you think about things. A famous survey once asked people what they would do if given a pill that would make them an Olympic champion, but kill them a year later. 50% said they would take the pill. Given those results, it seems fair to say that advice regarding overtraining will be taken in a variety of ways. Regardless, however, the above discussion may prove useful.
Happy Thursday, friends :).
An understanding of overtraining, while fragmentary, has only begun to take hold in competitive distance-running circles over the last few decades. As Dr. Tim Noakes notes in his work The Lore of Running:
"When I was running competitively in the 1970s, the concept that runners could train too hard was anathema and was quickly dismissed by runners with whom I ran. Indeed, an early article I wrote on the topic was passed off as evidence that I was just too lazy."
Yet according to Noakes, "the signs were everywhere. Dave Bedford, the hardest trainer of the era, performed poorly in the 1972 Olympic Games. My friend Dave Levick, who won the 1971 London-to-Brighton Marathon and the 1973 Comrades Marathon in record time after finishing second in the 1971 race, performed increasingly poorly the harder he trained in later years. The performances of Alberto Salazar, who trained and raced hard in the late 1970s and early 1980s, suddenly fell off precipitously" (Noakes, The Lore of Running, 4th Edition, 510).
But what is overtraining? The word itself suggests it involves training too much, but that doesn't tell us a lot. How does training too much affect the body?
Muscle damage appears to be one element. Several studies in the 1980s found that marathon running led to muscle damage requiring upwards of six-weeks from which to recover. It was noted in one of these studies that "veteran runners did have some areas of fibrosis in their muscles, suggesting incomplete repair." That study suggested that the muscles damaged most were those most energy depleted. However, Dr. Noakes suggests that "it is the persistent and repetitive eccentric loading of the muscles, and not energy depletion, that causes this muscle damage" (Noakes, 501).
Evidence also suggests that the fatigue associated with overtraining may be due not only to damaged muscles, but also a reduced capacity of the brain to recruit muscles during exercise. Dr. Noakes suggests this could "act as a protective mechanism. By preventing the athlete from continuing to train when in the overtrained state, the brain is acting to prevent any further damage" (Noakes, 505).
Finally, some studies suggest that overtraining reduces the ability of the body to respond to stress due to exhaustion of the hypothalamus, which regulates the body's hormonal response. Exhaustion of the hypothalamus has been noted in athletes who trained heavily (125-200km a week), though the degree of exhaustion was less than that of overtrained athletes.
To all this, Dr. Noakes states:
"To summarize, bodily changes caused by overtraining include the following:
-Histological changes in muscle, including evidence of muscle fiber and mitochondrial abnormalities. In athletes who suffer from impaired athletic performance after years of decades of heavy training, there may also be alterations in the genetic material in the exercised muscles, suggestion that those muscles have a reduced capacity to respond to the stress of exercise, to repair damage after exercise and to adapt to training.
-A reduced capacity of the brain to recruit the muscles used in the activity for which the athlete is trained.
-A reduced capacity of the hypothalamus-pituitary-axis to mount the normal hormonal response required to adapt to any external stress, including daily heavy training.
-Reduced sympathetic nervous system activity both at rest and during exercise (Foster and Lehmann 1997, Lehmann et al. 1997" (Noakes, 507).
In his concluding remarks on overtraining, Dr. Noakes states that, "...the evidence is absolutely clear. The body only has a finite capacity to adapt to the demands of intensive training and competition. Runners must choose, early in their careers, whether to spread that capacity over a long career, as did Bruce Fordyce and Ironman triathlete Mark Allen, or to use it up in a spectacular but short career, as did Buddy Edelen, Ron Hill, Alberto Salazar, and Steve Jones. This is the reality that both elite and nonelite athletes must confront every day that they run" (Noakes, 513).
I've quoted from Noakes extensively so as to provide a fairly clear conception of how scientists understand overtraining today. Given these conclusions, one might then be tempted to question how a 100 year-old could run a marathon. Examining the facts behind this effort offers some clues.
Perhaps most importantly, Fauja Singh was not a life-time competitive athlete, or for that matter a runner at all. As the article linked at the beginning of this post states, Mr. Singh did not begin running until he was 89 years-old. This point supports Bruce Fordyce's conclusions about master marathon records. He states that:
"The Masters [marathon] record can and will be broken, but it will be broken by a young master, a fresh master (my emphasis). By that we now understand to mean a 50 year-old who only started running in his [or her] forties. This would be a runner who has not grown ring weary and whose legs were still relatively fresh for the task of running 42km in close to 2:30. The runner will break the record, but will probably rue the fact that he didn't discover his talent in his twenties."
Mind you, Fauja Singh is twice the age of the masters runner described by Bruce Fordyce. But the record about which we're discussing isn't one of speed, but rather of longevity. And on this point, Fordyce's prediction is dead on. Mr. Singh didn't start running until he was 89 years-old, suggesting that his legs had not developed the long-term muscle damage associated with years of heavy training. Given this, it seems unlikely that similar feats will be accomplished by elites like Ryan Hall, Haile Gebrselassie, or current world-record holder Patrick Makau. The training that allows them to run world-class marathons in their youth could wear them out by the time they reach middle age.
So what can we take from all this? First, that the human body, while extraordinary in many ways, is also fragile. Franz Stampfl, Roger Bannister's coach when he broke the 4-minute mile, was caught on a torpedoed ship during World War II. From his experience surviving 8 hours in frigid North Atlantic waters, he concluded that the body was stronger than many thought. His conclusion is not unwarranted, and time and again we have seen the amazing capacity of the human body to adapt to training; the Japanese "marathon monks" are one remarkable example. Yet based upon the evidence elucidated above, this capacity appears to come at a cost. As Noakes states in his discussion on treating overtraining:
"That some athletes run long distances, including marathons, with distinction does not prove that the human body is a marathon machine any more than the conquest of Everest indicates that humans are a high-altitude species. Both indicate the extreme adaptive flexibility we have inherited. While we adapt well to a variety of opposing stresses, humans are generalists, and we lack the ability to adapt specifically to any single, severe stress, such as competitive distance running, for any great length of time" (Noakes, 509).
This point may become evident in the coming years. As we discussed in our Memorial to Sammy Wanjiru, one big trend in contemporary distance running is the tendency of talented 5k and 10k runners to take on the marathon in the prime of their career, largely because monetary incentives. This tendency has led to an marked increase in the frequency of fast marathons in recent years, especially (for the men) those falling under 2:05. Yet with so many younger marathoners taking on the intense schedule required to train for and race marathons, it seems likely that the incidence of overtraining will increase among these athletes in the coming years. The fact is that the incentives in competitive distance running make it attractive to train exceedingly hard in a short window, even if such training leads to serious health concerns in the future. The lure of a gold medal, a world record, or serious prize money, could lead to spectacularly brilliant and short running careers for today's crop of talented distance runners the world over.
A similar problem may already be happening in the United States, where most young competitive runners compete on their high school or college teams. One potential problem with this set-up is that the finite number of seasons available to high school and collegiate runners gives them (and their coaches) compelling incentives to train very hard to achieve short-term results. In my experience, winning the conference before graduation is a big incentive for many to pile on the miles during off-season training, or to put oneself through punishing workouts several times a week. Yet these practices appear to be the primary causes of overtraining, which can lead to premature decline in running ability. Talented athletes who are subjected to this type of training time and again come up short in the big competitions. The damage done prevented them from allowing their superior talent to shine.
So what can be done? Chiefly, it seems imperative to avoid overtraining. Both Tim Noakes and Jack Daniels, an exercise physiologist, emphasize the need to "achieve as much as possible on a minimum of training." The improvements on performance due to training are considerable, but not unlimited. As Daniels suggests, a cross-country coach at a college or high school should aim to improve his or her runners' times approximately 10% from their freshman year to their senior year. Further improvement might be possible, but 10% is about what one can reasonably shoot for under most circumstances.
Noakes appears to agree in principle, highlighting the genetic component of performance. As he points out, "who ever records that exceptional runners like Walter George and Alf Shrubb achieved quite remarkable performances on very low mileage? George ran a mile in 4:10.6 and a 16km run in 49:29 on little more than 3km of training per day. Even Paavo Nurmi, the most medalled Olympic runner of all times, trained pathetically little but performed exceptionally, even by today's standards" (Noakes, 291-292) Furthermore, Bill Bowerman, a former coach at the University of Oregon, usually kept his runners at or below 120km a week. The system he pioneered produced decades of collegiate dominance.
Therefore, it's important to bear in mind that while training is essential for elite athletes, it is not everything. In order to maximize one's potential, it appears imperative to work hard, but not so hard as to overtrain. Exceeding effort, ambition, and drive appear essential to success in most fields. Yet within these virtues of elite performance also reside the seeds of potential, premature decline. The need to understand how the training leads to the desired result, in this light, appears essential. As Arthur Lydiard, a famous running coach from New Zealand, once said to an assembly in Osaka, Japan:
"' Suppose you look back at the last season and there is one day where everything went right and you ran your best time of the year. If you know why you ran so well that day and you put your training together so as to produce your top form the day of the Olympics or the Japanese Championship or whatever big race you are pointing for, then you know something about training, but until you can do that, you don't know anything about training. You are just a good athlete who one day might run a good race, but you don't know when, so there's a need for better evaluation and understanding of each aspect of training, as well as how to put them together in a balanced way" (Link).
I encourage you consider the evidence and ideas presented here not as concrete fact, but as insights made by those who have studied the human body and athletic performance in a thorough way. New evidence may yet emerge which overturns these conclusions, but in light of the scientific evidence regarding distance training, it seems important not to overdo it, be it in running or any activity in life. That of course depends on how you you think about things. A famous survey once asked people what they would do if given a pill that would make them an Olympic champion, but kill them a year later. 50% said they would take the pill. Given those results, it seems fair to say that advice regarding overtraining will be taken in a variety of ways. Regardless, however, the above discussion may prove useful.
Happy Thursday, friends :).
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Moving on without the Government
In this morning's online version of The New York Times, Joe Nocera contributed an interesting op-ed entitled, "We Can All Become Job Creators." Mr. Nocera seeks to highlight a new program spearheaded by Starbucks, which is designed to tackle unemployment without the assistance of government.
At its root, the idea is to turn Starbucks stores into hubs for collecting money with which to finance small businesses, which are generally believed to be the majority private-sector employer in the US. As the Federal Government appears unable to move beyond ideological struggle, the premise behind the idea is to devise a way in which to employ private citizens in the business of creating jobs.
In his article, Mr. Nocera describes the model in this way: "Americans themselves would start lending to small businesses, with Starbucks as the middle man. Starbucks would find financial institutions willing to loan to small businesses. Starbucks customers would be able to donate money to the effort when they bought their coffee. Those who gave $5 or more would get a red-white-and-blue wristband, which Schultz labeled, 'indivisible.' 'We are hoping it will bring back pride in the American dream," he says. The tag-line will read: 'Americans helping Americans.'"
With the arrangement currently being worked out between Starbucks and Opportunity Finance Network, a representative firm for disadvantaged-community lending institutions, all donations could be leveraged at a 1-7 rate; in other words, for every dollar donated, 7 would be made available for lending to small businesses. In this manner, Starbucks could use its network of stores to develop new lines of credit for businesses that produce jobs.
The idea is an interesting one, as is the premise. If government is unable to remedy the situation, and no amount of voting in the short-term can appreciably change it, then perhaps it is about time that private citizens and institutions begin searching for alternative means of fixing their own society. With the proliferation of the internet and mobile computing, individual citizens have increasingly powerful means by which to share their grievances, resources, and erudition with others. Furthermore, the proliferation of web-based societies appears to be changing the ways in which we think about societies generally. Civil society, commonly understood, could be challenged by "Netizen" political thinking and ethics sooner than we imagine. That is hard to say. The point is that we may well be entering a time in which private citizens and firms actually have the means and know-how of remedying social problems without the active aid of government. It might be a time when society begins to move on without the government.
The Starbucks programs is slated to begin November 1st. As Mr. Nocera notes, the company is hoping to convince other firms to join them in the effort. If the idea interests you, it doesn't appear to cost much to get involved, and unlike mortgages and investment schemes, you're not betting the house on anything shifty, hoping for a big pay-off. At its heart, the Starbucks program appears to be asking people to make a small donation toward the alleviation of a big problem in our country today; a voluntary tax, if you will, that offers to empower common citizens who want to make a difference. Only time will tell how big a difference (for better or worse) the idea will yield. It is something, at least, to consider.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
At its root, the idea is to turn Starbucks stores into hubs for collecting money with which to finance small businesses, which are generally believed to be the majority private-sector employer in the US. As the Federal Government appears unable to move beyond ideological struggle, the premise behind the idea is to devise a way in which to employ private citizens in the business of creating jobs.
In his article, Mr. Nocera describes the model in this way: "Americans themselves would start lending to small businesses, with Starbucks as the middle man. Starbucks would find financial institutions willing to loan to small businesses. Starbucks customers would be able to donate money to the effort when they bought their coffee. Those who gave $5 or more would get a red-white-and-blue wristband, which Schultz labeled, 'indivisible.' 'We are hoping it will bring back pride in the American dream," he says. The tag-line will read: 'Americans helping Americans.'"
With the arrangement currently being worked out between Starbucks and Opportunity Finance Network, a representative firm for disadvantaged-community lending institutions, all donations could be leveraged at a 1-7 rate; in other words, for every dollar donated, 7 would be made available for lending to small businesses. In this manner, Starbucks could use its network of stores to develop new lines of credit for businesses that produce jobs.
The idea is an interesting one, as is the premise. If government is unable to remedy the situation, and no amount of voting in the short-term can appreciably change it, then perhaps it is about time that private citizens and institutions begin searching for alternative means of fixing their own society. With the proliferation of the internet and mobile computing, individual citizens have increasingly powerful means by which to share their grievances, resources, and erudition with others. Furthermore, the proliferation of web-based societies appears to be changing the ways in which we think about societies generally. Civil society, commonly understood, could be challenged by "Netizen" political thinking and ethics sooner than we imagine. That is hard to say. The point is that we may well be entering a time in which private citizens and firms actually have the means and know-how of remedying social problems without the active aid of government. It might be a time when society begins to move on without the government.
The Starbucks programs is slated to begin November 1st. As Mr. Nocera notes, the company is hoping to convince other firms to join them in the effort. If the idea interests you, it doesn't appear to cost much to get involved, and unlike mortgages and investment schemes, you're not betting the house on anything shifty, hoping for a big pay-off. At its heart, the Starbucks program appears to be asking people to make a small donation toward the alleviation of a big problem in our country today; a voluntary tax, if you will, that offers to empower common citizens who want to make a difference. Only time will tell how big a difference (for better or worse) the idea will yield. It is something, at least, to consider.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Friday, October 14, 2011
"Working very hard"
I came across a story this evening. It goes something like this:
"A martial arts student went to his teacher and said earnestly, 'I am devoted to studying your martial system. How long will it take me to master it?' The teacher's reply was casual, 'Ten years.' Impatiently, the student answered, 'But I want to master it faster than that. I will work very hard. I will practice everyday, ten or more hours a day if I have to. How long will it take then?' The teacher thought for a moment, '20 years.'"
Stories like these are meant to be interpreted individually; what you think about it matters, because getting you to think is one reason for their existence.
Personally, I think it captures the essence of what happens when people try too hard at something, and thereby suffer set-backs and frustration. Whether you're working to improve a skill, complete a project, or finish the tasks you've set for yourself on a given day, it's my experience that there is both the possibility of trying too little and too much. In either case, the result is sub-maximal.
To draw upon experience again, it is far more often that people will tell you that your sub-maximal result is a consequence of simply not working hard enough.
I believe this story--which is entitled, "Working very hard,"--is designed to suggest that what people tell you on this issue might be inaccurate; you might actually be working too hard, and that is the reason for your set-backs and poor results. It's ultimately up to you to consider whether you're working too easy, too hard, or just enough to achieve your goals. The task isn't an easy one, and often a good coach can help.
The point is, like working too easily, working too hard can be counter-productive. Finding balance between the two isn't a bad start.
Happy Friday, friends :).
"A martial arts student went to his teacher and said earnestly, 'I am devoted to studying your martial system. How long will it take me to master it?' The teacher's reply was casual, 'Ten years.' Impatiently, the student answered, 'But I want to master it faster than that. I will work very hard. I will practice everyday, ten or more hours a day if I have to. How long will it take then?' The teacher thought for a moment, '20 years.'"
Stories like these are meant to be interpreted individually; what you think about it matters, because getting you to think is one reason for their existence.
Personally, I think it captures the essence of what happens when people try too hard at something, and thereby suffer set-backs and frustration. Whether you're working to improve a skill, complete a project, or finish the tasks you've set for yourself on a given day, it's my experience that there is both the possibility of trying too little and too much. In either case, the result is sub-maximal.
To draw upon experience again, it is far more often that people will tell you that your sub-maximal result is a consequence of simply not working hard enough.
I believe this story--which is entitled, "Working very hard,"--is designed to suggest that what people tell you on this issue might be inaccurate; you might actually be working too hard, and that is the reason for your set-backs and poor results. It's ultimately up to you to consider whether you're working too easy, too hard, or just enough to achieve your goals. The task isn't an easy one, and often a good coach can help.
The point is, like working too easily, working too hard can be counter-productive. Finding balance between the two isn't a bad start.
Happy Friday, friends :).
Thursday, October 6, 2011
A memorial to Steve Jobs (1955-2011)
Following the death of Kenyan marathoner Sammy Wanjiru in May, I wrote a memorial considering his place in the history of the marathon. Yesterday, Apple co-founder Steve Jobs passed away at the age of 56. While I know a great deal less about technology and the history of computing than of distance running, it still seems right as a historian to consider the important role that Steve Jobs has played in that story. For it seems that much as Wanjiru helped change the way athletes and non-athletes alike think about the marathon, Jobs helped lead the way in technological innovation off and on over the last three decades. And while I don't believe you need to be famous or visionary to warrant a memorial, still I think it's important to consider the achievements and effects brought on by innovative people or groups; there are a lot of reasons why movies from the end of the 90's feel dated, and Steve Jobs is one of them. So with that, here is a little memorial to Steve Jobs (1955-2011).
Upon his death, Mr. Jobs has been eulogized by many. Jim Cramer of CNBC's Mad Money called Jobs, "the best America had." The Onion, a satirical newspaper, took the matter, well, satirically, a step further, calling Mr. Jobs, "The last American who knew what the F[***] he was doing." However which way you split it, Mr. Jobs' vision has clearly left a legacy.
But by what kind of legacy will we remember him? The Economist, a British newspaper, called Jobs a "Wizard" who, "stood out in three ways--as a technologist, a corporate leader and as someone able to make people love what had previously been impersonal, functional gadgets." His achievements followed from these premises. Says the Economist, "He repeatedly took an existing but half-formed idea--the mouse-driven computer, the digital music player, the smart phone, the tablet computer--and showed the rest of the industry how to do it properly." While controlling in his executive style, Jobs also " empowered millions of people by giving them access to cutting-edge technology." In short, the legacy of Mr. Jobs was established by his ability to innovate, and by the way his creations helped empower others to do the same.
The implications of this phenomenon have already proved wide-reaching. Some even speculate that Jobs' products could lead to new ways of thinking about government. Matt Bai, a blogger for The New York Times, suggests (here) that Jobs tapped into modern society's increasingly congruent notion of individualism (what Bai calls, "customization") and community, calling them "the twin pillars of the digital age." Bai argues that current political debate assumes these "pillars" are incompatible: "Either we're being told that centralized, 20th-century systems can never be changed to accommodate more individual flexibility (like, say, decoupling health care from employment), or we're being told that all federal programs are wasteful and that every American should basically fend for himself. Either we're suppose to entirely rely on large institutions, or we're suppose to rely only on ourselves."What future generations may believe is unknown, but the experience of growing up surrounded by Jobs-inspired Apple products may well help to bring digital political ethics into main-stream politics.
Whatever the implications, it is clear that, in the moment anyway, Steve Jobs has left an indelible mark on society and how people think about technology, politics, and the world. For better or worse, he overturned the notion that the customer always knows what he or she wants; instead, seeking to create products that fill a place in people's lives that did not yet exist. This in itself mirrors the emerging trend that upwards of half the jobs school-children today will one day occupy do not yet even exist. Furthermore, increasingly people on the web--such as Leo Babauta of ZenHabits--advocate that people can and should create their own job when traditional avenues of employment prove unfulfilling. The types of technology pioneered by Jobs has enabled an entire generation and more to dare to rethink society itself.
And it is on this point perhaps, which Jobs' legacy holds the greatest weight. Apple products of today will soon be out of date, and given sufficient time, the actual devices which Jobs pioneered will be relegated to the antiquated-technology pile. But the shift in social consciousness, and potentially even the inculcation of digital ethics in law and politics, could have profound effects upon future societies. These particular trends--should they ever materialize--will have many people to thank, and one of them will be Steve Jobs.
And so we celebrate the life and achievements of one of the great minds of our time. Not everyone agreed with him, and some may one day curse his name. But presently, it seems fitting that we should remember a person who dared to think differently, and create something novel for the world in which he lived.
Farewell, Steve Jobs, and thank you for your efforts. You will be missed even by those who never met you. Farewell.
Upon his death, Mr. Jobs has been eulogized by many. Jim Cramer of CNBC's Mad Money called Jobs, "the best America had." The Onion, a satirical newspaper, took the matter, well, satirically, a step further, calling Mr. Jobs, "The last American who knew what the F[***] he was doing." However which way you split it, Mr. Jobs' vision has clearly left a legacy.
But by what kind of legacy will we remember him? The Economist, a British newspaper, called Jobs a "Wizard" who, "stood out in three ways--as a technologist, a corporate leader and as someone able to make people love what had previously been impersonal, functional gadgets." His achievements followed from these premises. Says the Economist, "He repeatedly took an existing but half-formed idea--the mouse-driven computer, the digital music player, the smart phone, the tablet computer--and showed the rest of the industry how to do it properly." While controlling in his executive style, Jobs also " empowered millions of people by giving them access to cutting-edge technology." In short, the legacy of Mr. Jobs was established by his ability to innovate, and by the way his creations helped empower others to do the same.
The implications of this phenomenon have already proved wide-reaching. Some even speculate that Jobs' products could lead to new ways of thinking about government. Matt Bai, a blogger for The New York Times, suggests (here) that Jobs tapped into modern society's increasingly congruent notion of individualism (what Bai calls, "customization") and community, calling them "the twin pillars of the digital age." Bai argues that current political debate assumes these "pillars" are incompatible: "Either we're being told that centralized, 20th-century systems can never be changed to accommodate more individual flexibility (like, say, decoupling health care from employment), or we're being told that all federal programs are wasteful and that every American should basically fend for himself. Either we're suppose to entirely rely on large institutions, or we're suppose to rely only on ourselves."What future generations may believe is unknown, but the experience of growing up surrounded by Jobs-inspired Apple products may well help to bring digital political ethics into main-stream politics.
Whatever the implications, it is clear that, in the moment anyway, Steve Jobs has left an indelible mark on society and how people think about technology, politics, and the world. For better or worse, he overturned the notion that the customer always knows what he or she wants; instead, seeking to create products that fill a place in people's lives that did not yet exist. This in itself mirrors the emerging trend that upwards of half the jobs school-children today will one day occupy do not yet even exist. Furthermore, increasingly people on the web--such as Leo Babauta of ZenHabits--advocate that people can and should create their own job when traditional avenues of employment prove unfulfilling. The types of technology pioneered by Jobs has enabled an entire generation and more to dare to rethink society itself.
And it is on this point perhaps, which Jobs' legacy holds the greatest weight. Apple products of today will soon be out of date, and given sufficient time, the actual devices which Jobs pioneered will be relegated to the antiquated-technology pile. But the shift in social consciousness, and potentially even the inculcation of digital ethics in law and politics, could have profound effects upon future societies. These particular trends--should they ever materialize--will have many people to thank, and one of them will be Steve Jobs.
And so we celebrate the life and achievements of one of the great minds of our time. Not everyone agreed with him, and some may one day curse his name. But presently, it seems fitting that we should remember a person who dared to think differently, and create something novel for the world in which he lived.
Farewell, Steve Jobs, and thank you for your efforts. You will be missed even by those who never met you. Farewell.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Coaching for a Better World
A fascinating work appeared in The New Yorker yesterday, entitled "Coaching a Surgeon: What makes top performers better?," by Atul Gawande. The author is a surgeon, who considers the nature and role of coaching in performance. Interestingly, he largely avoids discussing the role of coaches in sport (doing so only to illustrate a traditional coach, typically understood). Instead, Gawande focuses on the role of coaches in less-traditional settings, including teaching, music, and surgery. He suggests that coaching in these fields--properly done--can improve performance, even with experts; "Coaching done well," says Gawande, "may be the most effective intervention designed for human performance."
The author's conclusions are not based specifically on any scientific studies on the subject, but are instead an attempt to answer the question posed in the sub-heading of the article: "Top athletes and singers have coaches. Should you?"
Further investigation suggests that the answer to that question is, "yes, if done properly."
So what makes a non-sport coach useful for performance in non-athletic aspects of life? On one level, Gawande suggests that a good coach acts as an "outside" set of eyes and ears to the performance. This is important, because whether it's music, sports, or some professional skill, the performance is going to look, sound, and appear different from a different perspective. Using the example of violin virtuoso Itzhak Perlman, Gawande describes how Perlman claims his wife helps him "hear" his performances as his audience might. As Perlman states in the article, "'Your physicality, the sensation you have as you play the violin, interferes with your accuracy of listening.'" For Perlman then, having an ear "outside" himself provide a vital perspective on the ways his audience might perceive his performance. The insights from that perspective improve his ability to communicate with the audience through the music.
Citing a five-year study by California researchers in the 1980s, Gawande finds that coaching is also useful for improving teacher performance; more so, in fact, than workshops and other forms of feedback. Research suggests that the failure of the workshop system wasn't necessarily that the techniques and methods were unsound; rather it was the low rate at which teachers were able to transfer their workshop-learning to actual teaching situations. From studies, it was found that only about 10% of teachers were able to adopt what they learned at a workshop to the classroom. That number improved to 20% when feedback was included. However, when teachers were coached following their classroom performances, the rate of workshop technique use increased to well over 90%, yielding not only better teaching, but also higher test results by students. The problem wasn't with the teaching techniques taught at the workshops; it was with the development of those skills in the performers (teachers) who employed them.
So how does one coach a teacher? Gawande poses that question to a fellow by the name of Jim Knight, a director of the Kansas Coaching Project at the University of Kansas. In short, Knight's method is to get coaches to observe individual components of a teacher's performance, and considering which components are well addressed, and which are not. "Knight" says Gawande, "teaches coaches to observe a few specfics: whether the teacher has an effective plan for instruction; how many students are engaged in the material; whether they engage in high-level conversations; whether they understand how they are progressing, or failing to progress." These criteria become the framework for later coach-performer interaction
During class-time, the trained "coaches" looked for these criteria, then discussed them with the teacher afterward. They considered what worked, and what didn't. They discussed why the things that didn't work failed, and how those things that didn't work might be improved for the next time.
In short, the coach and the performer had a conversation, where an attentive, outside perspective was brought respectfully to the attention of the performer. The coach's observations were considered by the coach and the athlete, and then a plan to improve the defects is hashed out between them.
Gawande later uses a similar system by asking an old teacher to observe some of his surgical procedures. The teacher simply showed up to the procedure and watched. Afterward, he would sit down with Gawande, state his observations, and together they would discuss the details of what went well and what did not. The coaching not only led Gawande to notice things of which he had previously been ignorant, but also led him to commit fewer errors in his practice. In short, even an expert benefited from a little coaching.
What can we take from this? In broad strokes, the article suggests that "coaching" can improve performance in a wide variety of fields and practices, many of which are of great practical benefit to society.
On a narrower scale, it also suggests that good coaching requires a particular type of approach, namely, that of an attentive, respectful observer who can convey observations without judgment. A good coach is an outside pair of eyes and ears that can see and hear things which the performer cannot. These observations, thus brought to the fore, become the foundation upon which the individual components of performance are assessed. From these assessments, rationally conceived plans for the improvement of the weakest components can then be made.
These lessons would seem applicable to a wide range of activities, but that does not make it easy to put into practice. Convincing so-called "experts" to submit their performance to the critique of a coach is but one such challenge. Indeed, it would appear that the attitude of the performer is nearly as important, if not more so, than as that of the coach. A coach can make his or her observations as plain and respectfully as he or she likes, but the performer must be willing to consider them for the coaching to be effective. In this way, developing coaches for society is but one side of a coin that also includes fostering an ethic of open-mindedness and willingness to consider the thoughts of others. Mutual respect therefore seems crucial for the partnership to work.
So whether we realize it or not, good coaching can make a difference in many aspects of our lives. Individuals and society alike stand to benefit from the development of effective coaches in all walks of life and profession. A coach's unique perspective has the power not only to shed light upon our faults and virtues, but also provides the knowledge that can help us improve ourselves and our world. Something to consider.
Happy Tuesday, friends :).
The author's conclusions are not based specifically on any scientific studies on the subject, but are instead an attempt to answer the question posed in the sub-heading of the article: "Top athletes and singers have coaches. Should you?"
Further investigation suggests that the answer to that question is, "yes, if done properly."
So what makes a non-sport coach useful for performance in non-athletic aspects of life? On one level, Gawande suggests that a good coach acts as an "outside" set of eyes and ears to the performance. This is important, because whether it's music, sports, or some professional skill, the performance is going to look, sound, and appear different from a different perspective. Using the example of violin virtuoso Itzhak Perlman, Gawande describes how Perlman claims his wife helps him "hear" his performances as his audience might. As Perlman states in the article, "'Your physicality, the sensation you have as you play the violin, interferes with your accuracy of listening.'" For Perlman then, having an ear "outside" himself provide a vital perspective on the ways his audience might perceive his performance. The insights from that perspective improve his ability to communicate with the audience through the music.
Citing a five-year study by California researchers in the 1980s, Gawande finds that coaching is also useful for improving teacher performance; more so, in fact, than workshops and other forms of feedback. Research suggests that the failure of the workshop system wasn't necessarily that the techniques and methods were unsound; rather it was the low rate at which teachers were able to transfer their workshop-learning to actual teaching situations. From studies, it was found that only about 10% of teachers were able to adopt what they learned at a workshop to the classroom. That number improved to 20% when feedback was included. However, when teachers were coached following their classroom performances, the rate of workshop technique use increased to well over 90%, yielding not only better teaching, but also higher test results by students. The problem wasn't with the teaching techniques taught at the workshops; it was with the development of those skills in the performers (teachers) who employed them.
So how does one coach a teacher? Gawande poses that question to a fellow by the name of Jim Knight, a director of the Kansas Coaching Project at the University of Kansas. In short, Knight's method is to get coaches to observe individual components of a teacher's performance, and considering which components are well addressed, and which are not. "Knight" says Gawande, "teaches coaches to observe a few specfics: whether the teacher has an effective plan for instruction; how many students are engaged in the material; whether they engage in high-level conversations; whether they understand how they are progressing, or failing to progress." These criteria become the framework for later coach-performer interaction
During class-time, the trained "coaches" looked for these criteria, then discussed them with the teacher afterward. They considered what worked, and what didn't. They discussed why the things that didn't work failed, and how those things that didn't work might be improved for the next time.
In short, the coach and the performer had a conversation, where an attentive, outside perspective was brought respectfully to the attention of the performer. The coach's observations were considered by the coach and the athlete, and then a plan to improve the defects is hashed out between them.
Gawande later uses a similar system by asking an old teacher to observe some of his surgical procedures. The teacher simply showed up to the procedure and watched. Afterward, he would sit down with Gawande, state his observations, and together they would discuss the details of what went well and what did not. The coaching not only led Gawande to notice things of which he had previously been ignorant, but also led him to commit fewer errors in his practice. In short, even an expert benefited from a little coaching.
What can we take from this? In broad strokes, the article suggests that "coaching" can improve performance in a wide variety of fields and practices, many of which are of great practical benefit to society.
On a narrower scale, it also suggests that good coaching requires a particular type of approach, namely, that of an attentive, respectful observer who can convey observations without judgment. A good coach is an outside pair of eyes and ears that can see and hear things which the performer cannot. These observations, thus brought to the fore, become the foundation upon which the individual components of performance are assessed. From these assessments, rationally conceived plans for the improvement of the weakest components can then be made.
These lessons would seem applicable to a wide range of activities, but that does not make it easy to put into practice. Convincing so-called "experts" to submit their performance to the critique of a coach is but one such challenge. Indeed, it would appear that the attitude of the performer is nearly as important, if not more so, than as that of the coach. A coach can make his or her observations as plain and respectfully as he or she likes, but the performer must be willing to consider them for the coaching to be effective. In this way, developing coaches for society is but one side of a coin that also includes fostering an ethic of open-mindedness and willingness to consider the thoughts of others. Mutual respect therefore seems crucial for the partnership to work.
So whether we realize it or not, good coaching can make a difference in many aspects of our lives. Individuals and society alike stand to benefit from the development of effective coaches in all walks of life and profession. A coach's unique perspective has the power not only to shed light upon our faults and virtues, but also provides the knowledge that can help us improve ourselves and our world. Something to consider.
Happy Tuesday, friends :).
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