The Zen Buddhist tradition has contributed a number of things to the world, but perhaps one of the most interesting can be found its stories. I encountered the following story some years ago, but forgot about it until recently. It reads something like this:
"A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself. 'It's overfull, no more will go in!' the professor blurted. 'You are like this cup' the master replied, "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"
(Source)
Recognize the tale? It's not long (less than 100 words in this telling), yet in its brevity the story also seems to capture an interesting facet of human psychology.
As discussed in an earlier post, positive psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi contends that the human brain is only capable of processing about 110 bits of information per second. Accordingly, a person's ability to focus and take in new information is based upon a fairly finite sum (about the amount of attention it takes to follow two spoken conversations at once).
Since a person's attentive powers are finite, they share a property with tea-cups, which have a finite volume. As the story above (and perhaps your own experience) suggests, you can only pour so much tea into a cup before it overflows. Similarly, when a person's attention becomes overwhelmed, their appraisal of an experience tends to revert toward sub-optimal mental states for learning and happiness(consider the graphic from earlier post).
In light of this fact, the Zen metaphor of a tea-cup for the mind makes sense. Like a tea-cup, you can't put anything more into a mind that is already preoccupied (and for all intents and purposes, full); a listener trying to follow two simultaneous conversations cannot equally attend to a third, given the finite capacity of human attention.
At the conclusion of the story, the Zen master asks rhetorically, "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?" Similarly, how can a person learn anything--or do anything challenging--without first emptying their mind?
n the words of the Tao-Te-Ching:
"We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
but it's the inner space that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use."
(Source)
Something to consider.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Talent vs. Training debate considered
Drs. Ross Tucker and Jonathan Dugas run a blog called The Science of Sport, on which they discuss and analyze the latest ideas in sports performance. It's a bit like posts on this blog, except that they're doctors and know a whole lot more than me. But as I'm sometimes told, you have to start somewhere so you might as well just dive in and learn.
Recently, Ross Tucker wrote a post on a discussion he had at a conference in London on the talent vs. training debate. In it, he challenges modern thinkers like Matthew Syed and Malcolm Gladwell, who claim that talent is a myth, and that success is merely a function of sufficient training and opportunity.
Dr. Tucker contends that such claims do two things. First, they states what many believe is obvious; that elite performance requires considerable practice. While talent alone may give some an advantage in a competition where no one is trained, that talent becomes increasingly insufficient as the quality of competition increases, or as Dr. Tucker writes:
"...individuals who attempt to [get] by on talent alone are washed away in this more competitive landscape...the key is that the athlete who succeeds all the way to the Olympic podium is the one who dominated without training (that is, he's talented or genetically gifted), but then trained incredibly hard to stay a champion as the competition intensified."
In this way, Dr. Tucker believes that thinkers like Syed and Gladwell simply state the obvious when they claim that practice is necessary for elite performance.
Accordingly, Dr. Tucker believes that the second thing Mr. Syed's and Gladwell's claims do is "unnecessarily polarize[-] the complexity of performance by ignoring genes and talent." As described above, Dr. Tucker does not believe that talent alone makes a champion when everyone is highly trained. But he does claim that talent and genes play a role in selecting those individuals who are peculiarly well-endowed for a particular activity. To be fair, Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers suggests something similar in the form of a "threshold," or a level of endowment which great achievers must usually possess. Gladwell describes this idea most clearly as follows:
"What Hudson is saying is that IQ is a lot like height in basketball. Does someone who is five foot six have a realistic chance of playing professional basketball? Not really. You need to be at least six foot or six one to play at that level, and, all things being equal, it's probably better to be six two than six one, and better to be six three than six two. But past a certain point, height stops mattering so much. A player who is is six foot eight is not automatically better than someone two inches shorter...A basketball player only has to be tall enough--and the same is true of intelligence. Intelligence has a threshold" (Gladwell 2008, 80).
In other words, as much as Gladwell points to practice, nurture, and other things later in his book, he too recognizes--on some level--the role that talent and genes play in performance.
But returning to Dr. Tucker's post, he ultimately concludes that "training is the realization of genetic potential." In other words, you need to practice if you want to be as good as your talent allows, but practice alone won't make a champion. Even Arthur Lydiard, a firm believer in the power of training to produce champions, pointed to the role of innate ability when he stressed that middle-distance runners needed natural speed to win the big race. Good practice only prepares the body to race, and get the racer to the last 200m "tireless" so they could use their natural speed for the finish, passing their less-conditioned (but often naturally faster) opponents.
And perhaps that is the lesson we should draw from Dr. Tucker's discussion of the issue. If you want to realize your full potential, it would seem that you absolutely must practice. Talent appears to be a vital component, but in a field of relatively equal talent (such as an Olympic final), other factors start coming into play. Differences in practice may prove the vital difference.
With that said, too much training can be as much if not more of a detriment than too little. As an earlier discussion on overtraining described, training more than the body can handle appears to lead to poor performance, and in the worse cases, "premature decline." Striking a balance appears essential.
So to summarize, Dr. Tucker contends:
1.) Practice alone does not make elite athletes (or elite performers)
2.) Genes (and variations of genes) and talent play an important role in performance.
3.) In a relatively equal talent pool, differences in training matter.
I encourage you to consider these points further, bearing in mind that as scientifically-based conclusions, they are subject to revision and improvement. Much luck!
Happy Saturday, friends :)
Thursday, November 24, 2011
A Wholesome Thanksgiving
Good morning, friends :). Or good afternoon, good evening, etc. In America (and perhaps elsewhere), today is Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays of the whole year. It has food, fellowship, and kindness. Perhaps the only positive thing it's missing is a musical tradition to match that of Christmas, but what can you do?
As it turns out, the idea of Thanksgiving may also be quite good for your health and happiness. For such is the power of gratitude, and its most potent outward expression--smiling--that perhaps it is in our own best interests to have multiple Thanksgivings each year. It is something at least to consider.
The growing scientific understanding of gratitude's positive effect on people was related a few days ago in an article from the online New York Times, entitled "A Serving of Gratitude May Save the Day." In it, writer John Tierney describes the benefits of feeling genuine gratitude. As it turns out, feeling grateful (but not indebted) markedly improves a person's happiness, self-esteem, and ability to empathize with others. Interestingly, this improved empathy also makes people less likely to retaliate when things don't go their way. As Dr. Michael McCullough is quoted as saying in the article, "'More than other emotions, gratitude is the emotion of friendship...It is part of a psychological system that causes people to raise their estimates of how much value they hold in the eyes of another person. Gratitude is what happens when someone does something that causes you to realize that you matter more to that person than you thought you did.'" For these reasons, Mr. Tierney suggests "a serving of gratitude" may well "save the day."
Yet it is not only a "serving of gratitude" that has a positive effect on people. As a recent TED talk by Ron Gutman describes, there is also a potent, yet "hidden power of smiling." As Mr. Gutman relates, research on the act of smiling shows tremendous benefits for those who frequently partake in the act. Smiling has been shown to influence the length of a person's life, the quality of their well-being, and the ways in which others regard each other. One study suggests that a single smile produces the same stimulation as eating 2,000 pounds of chocolate, or finding 16,000 pound sterling (approx. $25,000) on the ground. Sadly, only about 1/3 of adults smile more than 20 times per day, and 14% smile less than 5.
The good news is that smiling is also evolutionarily-contagious; the more you smile, the more likely others around you will also smile. And since each smile is equivalent to approximately 2,000 pounds of chocolate, or $25,000 cash, there is perhaps no greater gift one can give to someone for which they care.
Perhaps it's for these reasons that Thanksgiving is such a wonderful holiday in my eyes. For not only is the holiday a time of gratitude and thankfulness, but also one of family, friends, and smiles all around. Leaving aside nutritionally-dubious aspects of the holiday (copious amounts of beer, pumpkin-pie, stuffing, etc.), there appears to be a profoundly wholesome side to this day, one of the first "made-in-America" products we still have and cherish. Something to consider.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends :)
As it turns out, the idea of Thanksgiving may also be quite good for your health and happiness. For such is the power of gratitude, and its most potent outward expression--smiling--that perhaps it is in our own best interests to have multiple Thanksgivings each year. It is something at least to consider.
The growing scientific understanding of gratitude's positive effect on people was related a few days ago in an article from the online New York Times, entitled "A Serving of Gratitude May Save the Day." In it, writer John Tierney describes the benefits of feeling genuine gratitude. As it turns out, feeling grateful (but not indebted) markedly improves a person's happiness, self-esteem, and ability to empathize with others. Interestingly, this improved empathy also makes people less likely to retaliate when things don't go their way. As Dr. Michael McCullough is quoted as saying in the article, "'More than other emotions, gratitude is the emotion of friendship...It is part of a psychological system that causes people to raise their estimates of how much value they hold in the eyes of another person. Gratitude is what happens when someone does something that causes you to realize that you matter more to that person than you thought you did.'" For these reasons, Mr. Tierney suggests "a serving of gratitude" may well "save the day."
Yet it is not only a "serving of gratitude" that has a positive effect on people. As a recent TED talk by Ron Gutman describes, there is also a potent, yet "hidden power of smiling." As Mr. Gutman relates, research on the act of smiling shows tremendous benefits for those who frequently partake in the act. Smiling has been shown to influence the length of a person's life, the quality of their well-being, and the ways in which others regard each other. One study suggests that a single smile produces the same stimulation as eating 2,000 pounds of chocolate, or finding 16,000 pound sterling (approx. $25,000) on the ground. Sadly, only about 1/3 of adults smile more than 20 times per day, and 14% smile less than 5.
The good news is that smiling is also evolutionarily-contagious; the more you smile, the more likely others around you will also smile. And since each smile is equivalent to approximately 2,000 pounds of chocolate, or $25,000 cash, there is perhaps no greater gift one can give to someone for which they care.
Perhaps it's for these reasons that Thanksgiving is such a wonderful holiday in my eyes. For not only is the holiday a time of gratitude and thankfulness, but also one of family, friends, and smiles all around. Leaving aside nutritionally-dubious aspects of the holiday (copious amounts of beer, pumpkin-pie, stuffing, etc.), there appears to be a profoundly wholesome side to this day, one of the first "made-in-America" products we still have and cherish. Something to consider.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends :)
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The effortless-effort of "Flow"
Have you ever performed a task during which all sense of the outside world seemed to vanish? Have you ever become so engrossed in an activity that you forgot to eat, sleep, or tend to your body's basic needs? Did the experience leave you feeling fulfilled, content, even blissful? If so, then it's likely you have entered what positive psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi terms "Flow," or a state of intense-yet-effortless concentration on a particular task.
Dr. Csikszentmihalyi is not the first person to investigate the foundations of the "Flow" experience. Daoists in ancient China developed a term called Wu wei, which translated can mean, "action without action," "effortless doing," or "without effort." These translations all correspond with Dr. Csikszentmihalyi's findings, in that a "Flow state" is inherently an effortless application of extreme effort.
Yet how is this possible? Dr. Csikszentmihalyi suggests that any experience is a function of two variables: challenges and skills. Different combinations of these make an experience interesting, boring, terrifying, etc.
Consider the graphic above. The point where all lines converge is the average of a person's daily experience (average challenge meets average skill). According to the graph, when the challenge value is below the average for a corresponding value of skill, the result falls somewhere between "Apathy" and "Relaxation" (imagine playing an easy video game, for instance, or performing a very simple task). Conversely, when the challenge value is above the average for a corresponding value of skill, the result usually falls between "Worry" and "Arousal" (for example, taking a test on unfamiliar material, or performing something difficult for the first time).
According to Dr. Csikszentmihalyi, "Flow" is an optimal combination of above-average challenges and skills. The experience occurs when a person performs a challenging task with a high degree of skill; i.e. a musician performing a difficult piece, a mountain-climber scaling a challenging peak, or simply a skilled reasoner solving a difficult puzzle. In all cases, the challenge is great, but remains within the upper-level of a person's ability. The combination absorbs a person's attention, which appears not only to allow them to do their best work, but also leaves them in a state of extreme happiness. "Flow" can therefore be imagined as a state of happiness brought on by extreme-yet-effortless concentration.
Furthermore, it appears that the concept of "Flow" corresponds with the growth of character, as described in an earlier post on the role of challenge and failure in this process. According to the above graphic, when a high challenge level is matched with a low skill level, the result is either "Worry" or "Anxiety." The suggested manner of alleviating this difficulty is to increase one's skill level until the discomfort is replaced with something more desirable. It seems possible, therefore, that the mechanism which drives the growth of character (as described in the earlier post) is founded in a need to develop one's skills so as to match the demands of high-challenge situations, and by such efforts--consciously or otherwise--to achieve the optimal balance.
A possible difficulty in drawing this connection is the role of effort in each case. In short, learning the necessary skills to make challenging tasks more manageable requires a great deal of "effortful-effort," if the term may be used. This occurs because such effort must, by necessity, occur outside the optimal "Flow" zone. Accordingly, the effort needed to affect a shift from the "Anxiety" zone to the "Flow" zone is highly inefficient, and therefore likely prone to failure. Perhaps this is one reason why people who seek to rapidly master a challenging subject or task usually fail; effortful-effort is not particularly rewarding in the short-term, nor is it intrinsically motivating. For this reason, failure is common with such an approach.
Yet not all is lost. According to the model, the effortless-effort associated with "Flow" is achieved when high challenge levels correspond with high skill levels. One could read this as meaning that in order to achieve effortless-effort (and thereby, "Flow"), one needs to already possess a high degree of skill. In actuality, however, it's not the degree of skill relative to other people that matters, but the degree of skill relative to one's own, unique average; a professional tennis player has a different average from a beginner. So for a complete novice, just hitting the ball over the net is a difficult task, and requires a relatively high degree of skill. While the expert finds such a task simple--even boring perhaps--the novice finds the task difficult yet possible. Focusing on this one task, the novice has created a situation where a (relatively) challenging task meets a (relatively) high degree of skill.
And this is how someone new to a skill might use the principles of "Flow" to improve their ability. By focusing on the smallest aspect of a task--what blogger Leo Baubata calls "The Half Step That Will Change Your Life"--a person can utilize the effortless-effort inherent in "Flow" to bring about genuine improvement, even as a beginner. It needn't be large improvement to be important. According to Mr. Baubata, the "first step" allows you to "do a second, then a third, but you can't do those without a first." By shrinking the challenge, the optimal combination of challenge and skill becomes possible even for people with little or no skill in a particular activity. In this way, "Flow" can be harnessed to help you concentrate as you learn and enjoy something new.
According to Dr. Csikszentmihalyi, the human brain is only capable of processing about 110 bits of information per second. In this way, our ability to pay attention to anything is finite and scarce. It therefore makes sense to maximize this attention to such things as benefit us. "Flow" is perhaps one of the most efficient ways in which the brain can not only focus on something difficult--helping us grow as professionals and people--but also produce a feeling of happiness and self-worth. Cultivating circumstances where this feeling is achieved seems like a valuable use of thought, time, and resources. I encourage you to consider the idea, and see how such circumstance may be produced in your own life.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Dr. Csikszentmihalyi is not the first person to investigate the foundations of the "Flow" experience. Daoists in ancient China developed a term called Wu wei, which translated can mean, "action without action," "effortless doing," or "without effort." These translations all correspond with Dr. Csikszentmihalyi's findings, in that a "Flow state" is inherently an effortless application of extreme effort.
Yet how is this possible? Dr. Csikszentmihalyi suggests that any experience is a function of two variables: challenges and skills. Different combinations of these make an experience interesting, boring, terrifying, etc.
Consider the graphic above. The point where all lines converge is the average of a person's daily experience (average challenge meets average skill). According to the graph, when the challenge value is below the average for a corresponding value of skill, the result falls somewhere between "Apathy" and "Relaxation" (imagine playing an easy video game, for instance, or performing a very simple task). Conversely, when the challenge value is above the average for a corresponding value of skill, the result usually falls between "Worry" and "Arousal" (for example, taking a test on unfamiliar material, or performing something difficult for the first time).
According to Dr. Csikszentmihalyi, "Flow" is an optimal combination of above-average challenges and skills. The experience occurs when a person performs a challenging task with a high degree of skill; i.e. a musician performing a difficult piece, a mountain-climber scaling a challenging peak, or simply a skilled reasoner solving a difficult puzzle. In all cases, the challenge is great, but remains within the upper-level of a person's ability. The combination absorbs a person's attention, which appears not only to allow them to do their best work, but also leaves them in a state of extreme happiness. "Flow" can therefore be imagined as a state of happiness brought on by extreme-yet-effortless concentration.
Furthermore, it appears that the concept of "Flow" corresponds with the growth of character, as described in an earlier post on the role of challenge and failure in this process. According to the above graphic, when a high challenge level is matched with a low skill level, the result is either "Worry" or "Anxiety." The suggested manner of alleviating this difficulty is to increase one's skill level until the discomfort is replaced with something more desirable. It seems possible, therefore, that the mechanism which drives the growth of character (as described in the earlier post) is founded in a need to develop one's skills so as to match the demands of high-challenge situations, and by such efforts--consciously or otherwise--to achieve the optimal balance.
A possible difficulty in drawing this connection is the role of effort in each case. In short, learning the necessary skills to make challenging tasks more manageable requires a great deal of "effortful-effort," if the term may be used. This occurs because such effort must, by necessity, occur outside the optimal "Flow" zone. Accordingly, the effort needed to affect a shift from the "Anxiety" zone to the "Flow" zone is highly inefficient, and therefore likely prone to failure. Perhaps this is one reason why people who seek to rapidly master a challenging subject or task usually fail; effortful-effort is not particularly rewarding in the short-term, nor is it intrinsically motivating. For this reason, failure is common with such an approach.
Yet not all is lost. According to the model, the effortless-effort associated with "Flow" is achieved when high challenge levels correspond with high skill levels. One could read this as meaning that in order to achieve effortless-effort (and thereby, "Flow"), one needs to already possess a high degree of skill. In actuality, however, it's not the degree of skill relative to other people that matters, but the degree of skill relative to one's own, unique average; a professional tennis player has a different average from a beginner. So for a complete novice, just hitting the ball over the net is a difficult task, and requires a relatively high degree of skill. While the expert finds such a task simple--even boring perhaps--the novice finds the task difficult yet possible. Focusing on this one task, the novice has created a situation where a (relatively) challenging task meets a (relatively) high degree of skill.
And this is how someone new to a skill might use the principles of "Flow" to improve their ability. By focusing on the smallest aspect of a task--what blogger Leo Baubata calls "The Half Step That Will Change Your Life"--a person can utilize the effortless-effort inherent in "Flow" to bring about genuine improvement, even as a beginner. It needn't be large improvement to be important. According to Mr. Baubata, the "first step" allows you to "do a second, then a third, but you can't do those without a first." By shrinking the challenge, the optimal combination of challenge and skill becomes possible even for people with little or no skill in a particular activity. In this way, "Flow" can be harnessed to help you concentrate as you learn and enjoy something new.
According to Dr. Csikszentmihalyi, the human brain is only capable of processing about 110 bits of information per second. In this way, our ability to pay attention to anything is finite and scarce. It therefore makes sense to maximize this attention to such things as benefit us. "Flow" is perhaps one of the most efficient ways in which the brain can not only focus on something difficult--helping us grow as professionals and people--but also produce a feeling of happiness and self-worth. Cultivating circumstances where this feeling is achieved seems like a valuable use of thought, time, and resources. I encourage you to consider the idea, and see how such circumstance may be produced in your own life.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Monday, November 21, 2011
My first marathon
I ran my first marathon yesterday, finishing in a time of 4:43:18. That's approximately 10:48/mile, or 6:43/kilometer. It was in Philadelphia, and the weather was lovely.
The race began well enough, even though I ended up in the wrong corral (a designated wave of runners, arranged according to their predicted finishing time, so as to prevent traffic jams), and I cruised through the early miles slightly behind the 3:40 pace group. The first half of the race progressed easy enough, and later calculation revealed an 8:20/mile average for that 13.1 mile stretch. Considering that the longest sustained run I had managed in the previous three month involved an easy 5-miler with Dan and Dante, I considered this a positive development.
Things continued to progress well, until suddenly they didn't. This occurred just after mile 14, when I felt the need to walk for a bit. I managed to run a bit a few minutes later, but could only manage 10 minutes before needing to walk again. So I decided to try walking for 5 minutes and running for 10. This quickly became "walking for 10 minutes and running for 5." By mile 17, it became "run for 30 seconds whenever possible." By mile 19, I began counting steps up to 60, then starting over. By mile 20, I continued the exercise, only counting every other step. When mile 22 rolled around, I was down to counting every 4th step up to 30, rather than 60. At mile 23, I counted every 4th step up to 20.
At this point, I managed to jog through the mile-markers, and for a short interval after them before returning to a trudge. At mile 25, I jogged through the mile as usual, but instead of slowing to a walk, I just kept on running. From there I began to accelerate, a fact which surprised me as much as it seemed to surprise the hordes of people I managed to pass in that last 1.2 miles. Even a gradual incline near the finish didn't seem to slow me down; the pace, if anything, seemed to quicken. In the space of a few minutes, things had gone from a hopeless march to a spirited finish. The final stretch felt like the finishing kick of a PR cross-country race, or the end of a well-fought 10K. To the sound of a cheering crowd and Bart Yasso's commentary, I crossed the line with a smile on my face, happy to have survived my first marathon.
The race began well enough, even though I ended up in the wrong corral (a designated wave of runners, arranged according to their predicted finishing time, so as to prevent traffic jams), and I cruised through the early miles slightly behind the 3:40 pace group. The first half of the race progressed easy enough, and later calculation revealed an 8:20/mile average for that 13.1 mile stretch. Considering that the longest sustained run I had managed in the previous three month involved an easy 5-miler with Dan and Dante, I considered this a positive development.
Things continued to progress well, until suddenly they didn't. This occurred just after mile 14, when I felt the need to walk for a bit. I managed to run a bit a few minutes later, but could only manage 10 minutes before needing to walk again. So I decided to try walking for 5 minutes and running for 10. This quickly became "walking for 10 minutes and running for 5." By mile 17, it became "run for 30 seconds whenever possible." By mile 19, I began counting steps up to 60, then starting over. By mile 20, I continued the exercise, only counting every other step. When mile 22 rolled around, I was down to counting every 4th step up to 30, rather than 60. At mile 23, I counted every 4th step up to 20.
At this point, I managed to jog through the mile-markers, and for a short interval after them before returning to a trudge. At mile 25, I jogged through the mile as usual, but instead of slowing to a walk, I just kept on running. From there I began to accelerate, a fact which surprised me as much as it seemed to surprise the hordes of people I managed to pass in that last 1.2 miles. Even a gradual incline near the finish didn't seem to slow me down; the pace, if anything, seemed to quicken. In the space of a few minutes, things had gone from a hopeless march to a spirited finish. The final stretch felt like the finishing kick of a PR cross-country race, or the end of a well-fought 10K. To the sound of a cheering crowd and Bart Yasso's commentary, I crossed the line with a smile on my face, happy to have survived my first marathon.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Your honest passion
The online New York Times recently published an article entitled, "As New Graduates Return to Nest, Economy Also Feels the Pain." Written by Catherine Rampell, the article describes an unusual consequence of increasing numbers of college graduates returning home after college because of poor job prospects. In short, it's not just that the unemployed buy less stuff generally (which reduces economic activity); rather it's that the unemployed (particularly the young) also don't start households, which can have a powerful effect on a country's total economic output.
It's an interesting issue, and could prove difficult to fix. The reason is because establishing house-holds appears to require not only consistent and sufficient income, but also confidence that the larger economy is doing well. The problem arises when people with otherwise sufficient means refuse to start their own house-holds because they deem it unwise given the barren and uncertain times. As the article suggests, the combination of high-unemployment among potential house-hold starters, and the low-confidence in people of marginal exacerbates what John Maynard Keynes termed the "paradox of thrift." "Saving is good for the individual," says Ms. Rampell, "but en masse can hurt the economy by reducing demand."
The good news is that some economists believe pent-up housing demand needs only an improvement in employment (or in employment prospects) to reverse the current trend. As it is estimated that such demand could top 1.1 million houses, and that the establishment of a single house-hold adds approximately $145,000 in total output, improvements in this regard could have a pronounced effect on the national economy.
This argument suggests that one way to improve economic growth in the US today is to release the constraints which currently hold back demand in the housing market, namely high unemployment and low confidence. While President Obama's jobs bill seeks to address both issues, the ideological struggles of the government in our time make compromise difficult. Perhaps it's possible to remedy such ills without the government.
One method is entrepreneurship. As a recent post by Washington Post blogger John Harrison describes, while entrepreneurship in US is down 0.3% since 2009 (7.7% compared to 8.0%) necessity-driven entrepreneurship is up 5% (28% compared to 23%) in that same interval. In short, more people are turning to entrepreneurship because they need it to earn a living rather than because they have a stellar idea.
Interestingly, a growing number of bloggers and "netizens" advocate just such an approach for helping the unemployed, underemployed, or otherwise-unhappily employed find work for which they feel passionate. A major advocate of this approach is Leo Babauta, founder of blog Zen Habits, who among other things encourages readers to improve their lives one habit at a time. Keeping things simple, he believes, can help people discover their passion in life, and from there follow it. With technology empowering millions of people as never before, the possibilities for people to contribute to society are great.
In short, it appears that we live in a time when the ability to create our own job has never been more possible or necessary. With anemic economic growth, global uncertainty, and dysfunctional government, the current times appear ripe with danger and opportunity; danger, in that we might find ourselves unemployed, ill-used, or without the means to live creatively; and opportunity, in that the context has never provided so many tools for helping us improve our position. The future prosperity of our country depends on us finding those things we do best, and expressing those abilities with the tools of our times. Your honest passion, given a chance to grow, may not only promote prosperity in the land, but also assist you in living a happy and healthy life. I wish you all much luck.
Happy Friday, friends :)
It's an interesting issue, and could prove difficult to fix. The reason is because establishing house-holds appears to require not only consistent and sufficient income, but also confidence that the larger economy is doing well. The problem arises when people with otherwise sufficient means refuse to start their own house-holds because they deem it unwise given the barren and uncertain times. As the article suggests, the combination of high-unemployment among potential house-hold starters, and the low-confidence in people of marginal exacerbates what John Maynard Keynes termed the "paradox of thrift." "Saving is good for the individual," says Ms. Rampell, "but en masse can hurt the economy by reducing demand."
The good news is that some economists believe pent-up housing demand needs only an improvement in employment (or in employment prospects) to reverse the current trend. As it is estimated that such demand could top 1.1 million houses, and that the establishment of a single house-hold adds approximately $145,000 in total output, improvements in this regard could have a pronounced effect on the national economy.
This argument suggests that one way to improve economic growth in the US today is to release the constraints which currently hold back demand in the housing market, namely high unemployment and low confidence. While President Obama's jobs bill seeks to address both issues, the ideological struggles of the government in our time make compromise difficult. Perhaps it's possible to remedy such ills without the government.
One method is entrepreneurship. As a recent post by Washington Post blogger John Harrison describes, while entrepreneurship in US is down 0.3% since 2009 (7.7% compared to 8.0%) necessity-driven entrepreneurship is up 5% (28% compared to 23%) in that same interval. In short, more people are turning to entrepreneurship because they need it to earn a living rather than because they have a stellar idea.
Interestingly, a growing number of bloggers and "netizens" advocate just such an approach for helping the unemployed, underemployed, or otherwise-unhappily employed find work for which they feel passionate. A major advocate of this approach is Leo Babauta, founder of blog Zen Habits, who among other things encourages readers to improve their lives one habit at a time. Keeping things simple, he believes, can help people discover their passion in life, and from there follow it. With technology empowering millions of people as never before, the possibilities for people to contribute to society are great.
In short, it appears that we live in a time when the ability to create our own job has never been more possible or necessary. With anemic economic growth, global uncertainty, and dysfunctional government, the current times appear ripe with danger and opportunity; danger, in that we might find ourselves unemployed, ill-used, or without the means to live creatively; and opportunity, in that the context has never provided so many tools for helping us improve our position. The future prosperity of our country depends on us finding those things we do best, and expressing those abilities with the tools of our times. Your honest passion, given a chance to grow, may not only promote prosperity in the land, but also assist you in living a happy and healthy life. I wish you all much luck.
Happy Friday, friends :)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
The New Teacher
The Wall St. Journal online had this article posted the other day, entitled "My Teacher Is an App," by Stephanie Banchero and Stephanie Simon. It details the recent surge in online cyber-schooled students, whose full-time enrollment has increased 40% in just the last three years. Where once such schooling catered only to the otherwise-occupied (young elite-athletes, child-actors/actresses, etc.), the current batch of new enrollments hail from all across the social spectrum.
Results of this surge are so far mixed. As the article more fully relates, in some cases test scores went up when kids engaged in a cyber-school, and in others the scores went down. The lack of a full-time teacher building lesson plans and actively working with students proved disastrous on some occasions, and perfectly fine in others. Perhaps the only consistent winners in these cases have been state budgets (though incidentally, not school districts' budgets) which save considerable sums when students switch from ordinary schools to a cyber-schools.
Given that, the cyber direction could well point to the future, especially the hybrid variety, which includes both human and computerized teachers. With increasingly sophisticated teaching games--which adapt to a student's ability over time--it might be possible to individualize education so that students are grouped according to their actual ability in a subject rather than by their age. So while today one might group all 8-9 year-olds into "Third Grade," a hybrid-cyber approach might group them according to their specific ability in each subject. For example, students with a particular aptitude for math might progress to learning algebra by the time they're 9, while those who struggle with the subject might remain on material deemed by today's standards "below grade-level." The potential beauty of this approach--assuming sufficiently adaptable software--is the specificity with which a student's ability could not only be assessed, but also matched with the type and level of work most congruent with that ability. So whether a student is "quick" or "slow" in picking up a subject, an adaptive cyber approach would allow them to set their own pace.
To use an analogy, in distance-running (a subject I've studied more than pedagogy), specific stresses yield specific adaptations. Accordingly, it stands to reason that any coach who seeks to improve the performance of his or her charges should endeavor to provide the specific stress that each athlete requires for improvement. Like students, all athletes are unique in their abilities, and therefore have unique needs. The task of the coach then becomes two-fold; to assess the specific needs of each athlete, and to develop a program for providing those needs in an optimal way.
For teachers, one potential benefit and challenge inherent in the cyber-hybrid approach could involve the increased attention they might give particular students. With computers doing the "base" assessment and teaching through adaptive games, teachers could concentrate on the more nuanced educational (and ancillary) needs of their charges. What are the student's particular interests? Do they have a healthy lifestyle? What is the nature of their particular temperament? And how easily do they bounce back from adversity? While experience suggests that this is already done, perhaps it is possible that the current system forces teachers to teach too much like a computer, and not enough like a human.
And that's the real benefit I see from the increasing use of cyber teaching methods. It's not that computers are better at teaching people new things; in most ways I would suggest they're not. Rather, the benefit is the potential freedom it gives both teachers and students to work together toward a student's self-realization. Most would agree that knowledge is a necessary component of schooling, but knowledge alone does not yield achievement or contentment. As discussed in an earlier post on the constructive role of failure, research suggests that "character" is at least as important as knowledge in achievement, be it in schooling, professional careers, or simply in attaining happiness. Given the critical role that character plays in these fields, it would seem essential that a student's education should assist in developing it.
Perhaps computers will one day allow teachers to specialize in the study and development of character, which today seems relegated to secondary importance by an emphasis on content and skill-based exams. Perhaps the trend toward greater cyber instruction will give teachers the space and perspective they need to be foremost active agents in the development of that mysterious quality of "mental-toughness" that seems so essential to doing almost any difficult task. Something to consider.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
Results of this surge are so far mixed. As the article more fully relates, in some cases test scores went up when kids engaged in a cyber-school, and in others the scores went down. The lack of a full-time teacher building lesson plans and actively working with students proved disastrous on some occasions, and perfectly fine in others. Perhaps the only consistent winners in these cases have been state budgets (though incidentally, not school districts' budgets) which save considerable sums when students switch from ordinary schools to a cyber-schools.
Given that, the cyber direction could well point to the future, especially the hybrid variety, which includes both human and computerized teachers. With increasingly sophisticated teaching games--which adapt to a student's ability over time--it might be possible to individualize education so that students are grouped according to their actual ability in a subject rather than by their age. So while today one might group all 8-9 year-olds into "Third Grade," a hybrid-cyber approach might group them according to their specific ability in each subject. For example, students with a particular aptitude for math might progress to learning algebra by the time they're 9, while those who struggle with the subject might remain on material deemed by today's standards "below grade-level." The potential beauty of this approach--assuming sufficiently adaptable software--is the specificity with which a student's ability could not only be assessed, but also matched with the type and level of work most congruent with that ability. So whether a student is "quick" or "slow" in picking up a subject, an adaptive cyber approach would allow them to set their own pace.
To use an analogy, in distance-running (a subject I've studied more than pedagogy), specific stresses yield specific adaptations. Accordingly, it stands to reason that any coach who seeks to improve the performance of his or her charges should endeavor to provide the specific stress that each athlete requires for improvement. Like students, all athletes are unique in their abilities, and therefore have unique needs. The task of the coach then becomes two-fold; to assess the specific needs of each athlete, and to develop a program for providing those needs in an optimal way.
For teachers, one potential benefit and challenge inherent in the cyber-hybrid approach could involve the increased attention they might give particular students. With computers doing the "base" assessment and teaching through adaptive games, teachers could concentrate on the more nuanced educational (and ancillary) needs of their charges. What are the student's particular interests? Do they have a healthy lifestyle? What is the nature of their particular temperament? And how easily do they bounce back from adversity? While experience suggests that this is already done, perhaps it is possible that the current system forces teachers to teach too much like a computer, and not enough like a human.
And that's the real benefit I see from the increasing use of cyber teaching methods. It's not that computers are better at teaching people new things; in most ways I would suggest they're not. Rather, the benefit is the potential freedom it gives both teachers and students to work together toward a student's self-realization. Most would agree that knowledge is a necessary component of schooling, but knowledge alone does not yield achievement or contentment. As discussed in an earlier post on the constructive role of failure, research suggests that "character" is at least as important as knowledge in achievement, be it in schooling, professional careers, or simply in attaining happiness. Given the critical role that character plays in these fields, it would seem essential that a student's education should assist in developing it.
Perhaps computers will one day allow teachers to specialize in the study and development of character, which today seems relegated to secondary importance by an emphasis on content and skill-based exams. Perhaps the trend toward greater cyber instruction will give teachers the space and perspective they need to be foremost active agents in the development of that mysterious quality of "mental-toughness" that seems so essential to doing almost any difficult task. Something to consider.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Weight-training and distance running
In the last few posts, we've discussed a number of running-related topics, including: bare-foot running, peaking, and overtraining. As we've seen, there's some controversy surrounding these topics, and in each case I've advised readers to both experiment with and think critically about the facts, theories, and opinions inherent in each before taking their conclusions at face value. Put simply, the human body is very complex, and can vary in small but critical ways (so far as distance running is concerned) from one person to the next. So it seems important not only to read, but also to think and experiment so as to find the training methods that work best for you. Sound research and a coach can be helpful in this pursuit, but may not prove necessary. As always, due caution is advised.
The topic I'd like to discuss today is weight-training for distance runners. Just as competitive runners almost invariably consider whether to embrace a high or low-mileage training scheme, it's not uncommon for those same runners to eventually consider whether they should do weight-training.
Not surprisingly, fanatics exist on both sides of the debate. Historically, the Australian Percy Cerutty is one early example of a coach who whole-heartily embraced weight-training. Among other things (Cerutty never allowed his athletes to drink milk, consume white flour, or drink water during or shortly after meals), his athletes were said to lift three times per week, each session lasting two hours (link). Most famously, he required anyone he coached to be able to lift, in some manner, one's body weight above one's head. This training he supplemented with intense bare-foot fartleks over sand-dunes, long runs in natural locations, and a holistic philosophy that included moderate alcohol consumption, no smoking, and no staying up past mid-night.
On the other side of the issue, the New-Zealander Arthur Lydiard considered weight training anathema for distance runners, suggesting that runners lift weights for their legs only if no hills were available. In several of his books, Lydiard points to Lasse Viren, the Finnish runner who won the gold medal at the 5,000m and 10,000m at both the 1972 and 1976 Olympic Games, as having the ideal shape of a distance runner. Viren's "plucked chicken" look seemed to Lydiard the closest thing to a perfect distance-running build then available. A brief glance at most large cross-country invitationals (be it college or high school) today reveals the continuing appeal of this idea.
According to Kenny Moore, Bill Bowerman, a famous coach at the University of Oregon, felt that Lydiard's New Zealand runners could forgo weight-training because they, "...still pitched hay and cut woods in New Zealand. 'If we did that...we wouldn't have to lift weights'" (Moore, 146). (As an interesting aside, Geoffrey Mutai--winner and course-record setter of this year's Boston and New York City marathons, including the fastest 26.2 mile marathon time ever recorded (2:03:02)--took up lumber-jacking before his break-out performances in 2011.Coincidence?) Moore notes that Bowerman's runners did pull-ups and other similar exercises, and even swam some days so as to recover. Weight-training, then, appears to have held a small but important place in Bowerman's training regimin at Oregon.
It is this sort of position that most "moderates," if you will, espouse on the topic today. A review of some interesting studies in 2000 found that, "strength training is indeed beneficial to endurance athletes," most particularly when "it mimics the movements and actions of the athlete's sport." The review cautions, however, that it remains unclear whether strength-training benefits carry over into distances over 5,000m.
These conclusions are reinforced by a 1997 study performed on female runners, in which test subjects were given a 10-week program of strength and endurance work, and then compared to a control group given only endurance training. The study found that no increase in V02max resulted from the addition of strength training to an endurance regimen. However, running economy improved "significantly" in the Strength and Endurance group, a result which did not prove true with the Endurance-only group.
So it would appear that weight training can improve running economy. Based on the review linked above, this improvement would likely occur in runners whose strength-training closely mimicked the motions of running. The adaptation of specific muscles involved in running finds support in the Muscle Power Model, which "predicts that changes in exercise performance may result from increased muscle contractile function caused by biochemical adaptations in muscle that increase force production or the rate of sarcomere shortening, or both, independent of changes in neural recruitment by the brain" (Noakes, 38). A 1992 study of swimmers found similar conclusions regarding swimmers' muscles and the application of force against the water, stating, "'...it must be remembered that strength per se does not indicate fast swimming. The forces generated by the muscle must be effectively applied to the water if they are to propel the body. Thus, strength specifically is the key to swimming success'" (Noakes, 38). Accordingly, strength exercises that closely mimic the running motion could improve economy.
In conclusion, it would seem that weight training can have a positive effect on running performance, at least in races up to 5,000m in distance. I suspect the benefits would extend to almost any distance, but the literature I could find does not say. Improvements in running economy should mean that the same running speed can be maintained with less effort at any distance. This adaptation means not only potentially faster racing times, but also faster training paces. Weight-training may therefore allow an athlete to train at a more intense level, and reach a higher level of general fitness before beginning the race-specific sharpening training, as discussed in the post on peaking.
I encourage you to experiment with these ideas as you can. Consulting a knowledgeable trainer may help you to avoid common mistakes while weight-training, and by extension lessen the risk of injury. Dietary considerations should also be discussed, especially regarding protein and iron-intake. With some help and a careful approach, it seems likely that weight-training could benefit your competitive running.
Happy Thursday, friends :).
The topic I'd like to discuss today is weight-training for distance runners. Just as competitive runners almost invariably consider whether to embrace a high or low-mileage training scheme, it's not uncommon for those same runners to eventually consider whether they should do weight-training.
Not surprisingly, fanatics exist on both sides of the debate. Historically, the Australian Percy Cerutty is one early example of a coach who whole-heartily embraced weight-training. Among other things (Cerutty never allowed his athletes to drink milk, consume white flour, or drink water during or shortly after meals), his athletes were said to lift three times per week, each session lasting two hours (link). Most famously, he required anyone he coached to be able to lift, in some manner, one's body weight above one's head. This training he supplemented with intense bare-foot fartleks over sand-dunes, long runs in natural locations, and a holistic philosophy that included moderate alcohol consumption, no smoking, and no staying up past mid-night.
On the other side of the issue, the New-Zealander Arthur Lydiard considered weight training anathema for distance runners, suggesting that runners lift weights for their legs only if no hills were available. In several of his books, Lydiard points to Lasse Viren, the Finnish runner who won the gold medal at the 5,000m and 10,000m at both the 1972 and 1976 Olympic Games, as having the ideal shape of a distance runner. Viren's "plucked chicken" look seemed to Lydiard the closest thing to a perfect distance-running build then available. A brief glance at most large cross-country invitationals (be it college or high school) today reveals the continuing appeal of this idea.
According to Kenny Moore, Bill Bowerman, a famous coach at the University of Oregon, felt that Lydiard's New Zealand runners could forgo weight-training because they, "...still pitched hay and cut woods in New Zealand. 'If we did that...we wouldn't have to lift weights'" (Moore, 146). (As an interesting aside, Geoffrey Mutai--winner and course-record setter of this year's Boston and New York City marathons, including the fastest 26.2 mile marathon time ever recorded (2:03:02)--took up lumber-jacking before his break-out performances in 2011.Coincidence?) Moore notes that Bowerman's runners did pull-ups and other similar exercises, and even swam some days so as to recover. Weight-training, then, appears to have held a small but important place in Bowerman's training regimin at Oregon.
It is this sort of position that most "moderates," if you will, espouse on the topic today. A review of some interesting studies in 2000 found that, "strength training is indeed beneficial to endurance athletes," most particularly when "it mimics the movements and actions of the athlete's sport." The review cautions, however, that it remains unclear whether strength-training benefits carry over into distances over 5,000m.
These conclusions are reinforced by a 1997 study performed on female runners, in which test subjects were given a 10-week program of strength and endurance work, and then compared to a control group given only endurance training. The study found that no increase in V02max resulted from the addition of strength training to an endurance regimen. However, running economy improved "significantly" in the Strength and Endurance group, a result which did not prove true with the Endurance-only group.
So it would appear that weight training can improve running economy. Based on the review linked above, this improvement would likely occur in runners whose strength-training closely mimicked the motions of running. The adaptation of specific muscles involved in running finds support in the Muscle Power Model, which "predicts that changes in exercise performance may result from increased muscle contractile function caused by biochemical adaptations in muscle that increase force production or the rate of sarcomere shortening, or both, independent of changes in neural recruitment by the brain" (Noakes, 38). A 1992 study of swimmers found similar conclusions regarding swimmers' muscles and the application of force against the water, stating, "'...it must be remembered that strength per se does not indicate fast swimming. The forces generated by the muscle must be effectively applied to the water if they are to propel the body. Thus, strength specifically is the key to swimming success'" (Noakes, 38). Accordingly, strength exercises that closely mimic the running motion could improve economy.
In conclusion, it would seem that weight training can have a positive effect on running performance, at least in races up to 5,000m in distance. I suspect the benefits would extend to almost any distance, but the literature I could find does not say. Improvements in running economy should mean that the same running speed can be maintained with less effort at any distance. This adaptation means not only potentially faster racing times, but also faster training paces. Weight-training may therefore allow an athlete to train at a more intense level, and reach a higher level of general fitness before beginning the race-specific sharpening training, as discussed in the post on peaking.
I encourage you to experiment with these ideas as you can. Consulting a knowledgeable trainer may help you to avoid common mistakes while weight-training, and by extension lessen the risk of injury. Dietary considerations should also be discussed, especially regarding protein and iron-intake. With some help and a careful approach, it seems likely that weight-training could benefit your competitive running.
Happy Thursday, friends :).
Friday, November 4, 2011
Experimentation and Barefoot running
Christopher McDougall, best known for his 2009 book Born to Run, wrote a piece a few days ago in the online version of The New York Times Magazine entitled The Once and Future Way To Run. The article largely covers the major themes of Mr. McDougall's book: that humans have been constructed by evolution to be long-distance runners; traditional running shoes cause injuries; and barefoot running forces people to run naturally. According to McDougall, the "once and future way to run' is the light, "whisper-soft" stride of the experienced barefoot runner.
Mr. McDougall practices what he preaches, having become a barefoot runner after travelling in 2008 to Copper Canyon, Mexico, home of the Tarahumara Indians. The experience "transformed" him from a "broken-down, middle-aged, ex-runner" into a runner capable of completing a 50-mile ultra-marathon over extremely rigorous terrain. The race is described in Born to Run, and regardless of your interest in barefoot running generally, I'd definitely recommend it.
In the subsequent two years since the book was published, barefoot running has become and remains a major topic of discussion in the running community, though admittedly less so these days than a year ago. People have argued themselves hoarse over the supposed benefits of ditching running shoes, adopting a fore-foot strike, and lessening impacts forces. It seems probable that this debate is one reason why the minimalist shoe industry has grown into a $1.7 billion dollar business. Regardless, the issue seems to warrant investigation.
In the article, Mr. McDougall cites a 2010 US Army Public Health Command report which concludes that running shoes, "'had little influence on injuries.'" Runners' World columnist Amby Burfoot came to similar conclusions in his 2010 review of the "Dismal Science" surrounding research on the running shoe question. In that review, Mr. Burfoot noted that the current research suggested that some shoes increased the amount of torque experienced by foot during exercise, but that the precise relationship between increased torque and increased injury incidence remained unclear. Without a clear-cut understanding of that relationship, Mr. Burfoot ultimately decides that runners could probably get away with a more minimal shoe than they currently use, but that it would be wise to experiment first.
Exercise physiologist Jack Daniels expressed a similar opinion in a video interview on the subject. Taking up the debate on whether a fore-foot, mid-foot, or rear-foot foot-strike is most effective for running, Daniels concludes from his research that the matter is unclear, but that individual mechanics appear to influence what type of foot-strike is most economical for each runner. It is entirely possible that a life-time heel-striker is actually more economical with a fore-foot strike, but that doesn't automatically make a fore-foot strike desirable for everyone. As with the running shoe question, careful experimentation currently appears to be the most sure what of determining what is optimal for particular individuals so far as foot-strike patterns are concerned.
In that vein, the barefoot vs. running shoe and fore-foot vs. heel-strike debates are but guides revealing a continuum of possibility in one's training. People have run quite fast without shoes (just look at Abebe Bikila in the 1960 Olympic Marathon). Furthermore, Jack Daniels points out in the video from above that in one study, it was found that adding 100g to the foot leads to a 1% decrease in performance (about 1 minute in a marathon). Given the physics of circular motion, the amount of torque required to move an object (one's leg and foot through a stride) increases with both distance and force ( Torque = radius x Force, or Torque = radius x [(mass)(acceleration)]), so having more mass further from one's body (i.e. 10 ounce running shoes on one's foot as opposed to just one's foot) requires more torque to move it. But there is also the question of receiving return energy from the shoe itself, such that while it costs more energy to move a shoe-clad foot, the benefits of the shoe may outweigh the additional cost in torque.
More research is required on this matter, and I suspect that because everyone's body is high individual, that individual experimentation is therefore the best means of determining whether you're more economical with or without shoes; fore-foot striking, mid-foot striking, or heel-striking. It could well be that how you run now is precisely how you ought to run to achieve optimal performance. But you'll never know for sure (so far as one can be sure) without a little experimentation. Due caution is, of course, advised.
Happy Friday, friends :)
Mr. McDougall practices what he preaches, having become a barefoot runner after travelling in 2008 to Copper Canyon, Mexico, home of the Tarahumara Indians. The experience "transformed" him from a "broken-down, middle-aged, ex-runner" into a runner capable of completing a 50-mile ultra-marathon over extremely rigorous terrain. The race is described in Born to Run, and regardless of your interest in barefoot running generally, I'd definitely recommend it.
In the subsequent two years since the book was published, barefoot running has become and remains a major topic of discussion in the running community, though admittedly less so these days than a year ago. People have argued themselves hoarse over the supposed benefits of ditching running shoes, adopting a fore-foot strike, and lessening impacts forces. It seems probable that this debate is one reason why the minimalist shoe industry has grown into a $1.7 billion dollar business. Regardless, the issue seems to warrant investigation.
In the article, Mr. McDougall cites a 2010 US Army Public Health Command report which concludes that running shoes, "'had little influence on injuries.'" Runners' World columnist Amby Burfoot came to similar conclusions in his 2010 review of the "Dismal Science" surrounding research on the running shoe question. In that review, Mr. Burfoot noted that the current research suggested that some shoes increased the amount of torque experienced by foot during exercise, but that the precise relationship between increased torque and increased injury incidence remained unclear. Without a clear-cut understanding of that relationship, Mr. Burfoot ultimately decides that runners could probably get away with a more minimal shoe than they currently use, but that it would be wise to experiment first.
Exercise physiologist Jack Daniels expressed a similar opinion in a video interview on the subject. Taking up the debate on whether a fore-foot, mid-foot, or rear-foot foot-strike is most effective for running, Daniels concludes from his research that the matter is unclear, but that individual mechanics appear to influence what type of foot-strike is most economical for each runner. It is entirely possible that a life-time heel-striker is actually more economical with a fore-foot strike, but that doesn't automatically make a fore-foot strike desirable for everyone. As with the running shoe question, careful experimentation currently appears to be the most sure what of determining what is optimal for particular individuals so far as foot-strike patterns are concerned.
In that vein, the barefoot vs. running shoe and fore-foot vs. heel-strike debates are but guides revealing a continuum of possibility in one's training. People have run quite fast without shoes (just look at Abebe Bikila in the 1960 Olympic Marathon). Furthermore, Jack Daniels points out in the video from above that in one study, it was found that adding 100g to the foot leads to a 1% decrease in performance (about 1 minute in a marathon). Given the physics of circular motion, the amount of torque required to move an object (one's leg and foot through a stride) increases with both distance and force ( Torque = radius x Force, or Torque = radius x [(mass)(acceleration)]), so having more mass further from one's body (i.e. 10 ounce running shoes on one's foot as opposed to just one's foot) requires more torque to move it. But there is also the question of receiving return energy from the shoe itself, such that while it costs more energy to move a shoe-clad foot, the benefits of the shoe may outweigh the additional cost in torque.
More research is required on this matter, and I suspect that because everyone's body is high individual, that individual experimentation is therefore the best means of determining whether you're more economical with or without shoes; fore-foot striking, mid-foot striking, or heel-striking. It could well be that how you run now is precisely how you ought to run to achieve optimal performance. But you'll never know for sure (so far as one can be sure) without a little experimentation. Due caution is, of course, advised.
Happy Friday, friends :)
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