In yesterday's post we discussed Dr. Tim Noake's new paper, which contends that exercise fatigue is not a "physical event" so much as an emotion the brain uses to regulate exercise performance. This idea proved highly stimulating, as well as challenging. After all, how can fatigue not have a physical component? The effects of overtraining--another concept pioneered by Dr. Noakes--seem to suggest otherwise; that even if fatigue is simply an emotion, it does serve to outline certain limitations inherent in particular individuals.
It was at this point in my thinking that I remembered an earlier post discussing the role of one's expectations in determining exercise performance. Written last September, it analyzed an article from The New York Times which described experimental evidence suggesting that changes in a person's expectations of their performance could modestly influence it. To briefly summarize, the study had cyclists perform several 4km time trials on stationary bikes so as to determine their maximum speed over the distance. The cyclists were then told they would race an avatar which had been programmed to move at the cyclists' best time-trial effort. What the cyclists didn't know was that the avatar would actually be racing slightly faster (2% more power, or 1% faster) than the cyclists' best effort. Interestingly, in the subsequent test the cyclists were able to match the faster speed, even though they had already supposedly "maxed-out" in previous solo time-trials. When the test was repeated with the avatar riding with 5% more power, however, the cyclists proved unable to keep up. The author of the Times piece then suggests that the increase in performance may provide evidence of Dr. Noakes Central Governor Theory.
At the time I wondered how this could be true, given the fact that the "Central Governor" is, according to the theory, a sub-conscious network in the brain tasked with maintaining full body homeostasis. How could conscious motivation affect a sub-conscious Governor's tolerances?
Yesterday's post may offer clues. For example, Dr. Noakes' idea that fatigue is an emotion suggests that conscious elements do actually come into play when the Governor (if it exists) begins forcing the body to terminate exercise. So while some systems begin shutting down sub-consciously (for example, a reduced ability to recruit muscle), others require conscious choices (in Dr. Noakes' paper, "somewhere in the final section of the race, the brains of the second, and lower placed finishers accept their respective finishing positions and no longer choose to challenge for a higher finish.").
Synthesizing what we learned from the cycling experiment described above, and Dr. Noakes' notion of fatigue as an emotion, we begin to see a possible hypothesis explaining the extent to which conscious choices affect race performance. As the cycling experiment showed, cyclists registered a modest 2% increase in power when their expectations were "tricked" into believing their previous maximum power-output had not yet been reached. However, this trick proved insufficient when a 5% increase in power was tested; according to the Times article, "The athletes kept up for about half the race, then gave up."
It seems likely, therefore, that the conscious appraisal of fatigue has a modest yet measurable effect on performance. So while sub-conscious elements appear to play the major role in determining when exercise is terminated, but it may be that the final--and in a race, potentially-decisive--decision is ultimately left to conscious choice.
Happy Friday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Fatigue as an Emotion
In his most recent post, RunnersWorld blogger Amby Burfoot discusses a fascinating new paper by Dr. Tim Noakes. Entitled "Fatigue is a brain-derived emotion that regulates the exercise behavior to ensure the protection of whole body homeostasis," the paper (published in the journal Frontiers in Physiology) expands upon Dr. Noakes conception of the Central Governor Model of exercise.
The Central Governor Model (CGM) suggests, broadly speaking, that maximal exercise is regulated by parts of the brain so as to maintain homeostasis throughout the body; in other words, a kind of sub-conscious network that ensures you don't kill yourself while exercising. It should be noted that critics are quick to point out that people do sometimes die in athletic events, suggesting the CGM may not account for all cases in which catastrophic failures in the body lead to a loss in homeostasis.
With that said, the CGM does provide a fascinating (and unique) perspective on the notion of fatigue in exercise, and is therefore worth exploring. Indeed, the big difference between this paper and other writings on the CGM centers on the notion of fatigue; that "A key component of the CGM is its proposal that fatigue is not a physical event but rather an emotion (St Clair Gibson et al., 2003) that is used by the brain to regulate the exercise performance (Tucker, 2009)." Consequently, Dr. Noakes re-imagines "fatigue" primarily as a brain-based phenomenon, described succinctly by Bainbridge in 1931 as:
"…the sense of fatigue is often a very fallacious index of the working capacity of the body…there is not necessarily any correspondence between the subjective feelings of fatigue and the capacity of the muscles to perform work … it is a protective feeling, which tends to restrain a man from continuing to perform muscular work when this would react injuriously upon his whole system” (Bainbridge, 1931, pp. 176–177)."
An important implication of this theory, as Dr. Noakes describes in the final section, is the possibility that athletic success "...will be strongly influenced by the manner in which the brains of the respective runners generate the sensations of fatigue during exercise." Indeed, if fatigue is an "emotion" rather than a "physical event," it is possible that the limitations of what our bodies can do are not simply a consequence of physiology, but rather a nexus of physiological and psychological phenomenon interacting together. In short our perceptions of fatigue, both in training as well as racing, appear to play a significant role in how hard we can push ourselves.
Interestingly, this point appears to share great affinity with those on the same subject made by Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott in their 1999 book Running Within. In chapter 12 of the work, they discuss strategies for dealing with in-race fatigue. One thing all these strategies share is a process of redefining fatigue as something less harmful than it at first appears, stating, "...if you change your beliefs about physiological limits, you will the change the pain's effect on you" (Lynch and Scott 1999, 126). Such strategies include:
"...[interpreting] it [fatigue] simply as a feeling you get when your muscles are working hard. See it as an important indication that you are exploring the outer boundaries of your running potential. Think about how necessary fatigue is if you wish to experience significant breakthroughs in your performance. Fatigue is there because you are exploring your potential and giving your best effort...When you create this shift in consciousness, notice how there is a subsequent shift in the fatigue as well" (Lynch and Scott 1999, 126-127).
According to everything we've now considered, it appears that our perceptions of fatigue may heavily influence our performance regardless of physiology. Furthermore, both sub-conscious and conscious factors appear to play a role. Differences in perception, be they cases of individual variation or the result of training, may yield large differences in performance. Something to consider maybe.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
The Central Governor Model (CGM) suggests, broadly speaking, that maximal exercise is regulated by parts of the brain so as to maintain homeostasis throughout the body; in other words, a kind of sub-conscious network that ensures you don't kill yourself while exercising. It should be noted that critics are quick to point out that people do sometimes die in athletic events, suggesting the CGM may not account for all cases in which catastrophic failures in the body lead to a loss in homeostasis.
With that said, the CGM does provide a fascinating (and unique) perspective on the notion of fatigue in exercise, and is therefore worth exploring. Indeed, the big difference between this paper and other writings on the CGM centers on the notion of fatigue; that "A key component of the CGM is its proposal that fatigue is not a physical event but rather an emotion (St Clair Gibson et al., 2003) that is used by the brain to regulate the exercise performance (Tucker, 2009)." Consequently, Dr. Noakes re-imagines "fatigue" primarily as a brain-based phenomenon, described succinctly by Bainbridge in 1931 as:
"…the sense of fatigue is often a very fallacious index of the working capacity of the body…there is not necessarily any correspondence between the subjective feelings of fatigue and the capacity of the muscles to perform work … it is a protective feeling, which tends to restrain a man from continuing to perform muscular work when this would react injuriously upon his whole system” (Bainbridge, 1931, pp. 176–177)."
An important implication of this theory, as Dr. Noakes describes in the final section, is the possibility that athletic success "...will be strongly influenced by the manner in which the brains of the respective runners generate the sensations of fatigue during exercise." Indeed, if fatigue is an "emotion" rather than a "physical event," it is possible that the limitations of what our bodies can do are not simply a consequence of physiology, but rather a nexus of physiological and psychological phenomenon interacting together. In short our perceptions of fatigue, both in training as well as racing, appear to play a significant role in how hard we can push ourselves.
Interestingly, this point appears to share great affinity with those on the same subject made by Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott in their 1999 book Running Within. In chapter 12 of the work, they discuss strategies for dealing with in-race fatigue. One thing all these strategies share is a process of redefining fatigue as something less harmful than it at first appears, stating, "...if you change your beliefs about physiological limits, you will the change the pain's effect on you" (Lynch and Scott 1999, 126). Such strategies include:
"...[interpreting] it [fatigue] simply as a feeling you get when your muscles are working hard. See it as an important indication that you are exploring the outer boundaries of your running potential. Think about how necessary fatigue is if you wish to experience significant breakthroughs in your performance. Fatigue is there because you are exploring your potential and giving your best effort...When you create this shift in consciousness, notice how there is a subsequent shift in the fatigue as well" (Lynch and Scott 1999, 126-127).
According to everything we've now considered, it appears that our perceptions of fatigue may heavily influence our performance regardless of physiology. Furthermore, both sub-conscious and conscious factors appear to play a role. Differences in perception, be they cases of individual variation or the result of training, may yield large differences in performance. Something to consider maybe.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Getting back on track: learning from a creative trough
A friend once told me that a good blog is generally updated daily, or almost daily if that can't be managed. Assuming for the moment that's true, it means this blog has been lagging a bit of late, a problem I've had before. And just as before, I'm finding the experience both maddening and instructive. A lot of things are like that it seems.
Thankfully, previous experience with writers' block helped me utilize the present bout more effectively. For starters, I worried a lot less this time around about the dearth of new material. Sometimes these things just happen, and excessive worry does little to remedy it. Any number of reasons could be at work, but taking a little time seemed to offer a universal solution no matter what it turned out to be. So I let the matter rest, and thought about other things.
This worked surprisingly well, and reinforces some of the ideas we've discussed in an earlier post on creativity. To summarize, there appear to be two broad ways by which creativity generates new ideas; one involving industry and the other insight. In the first case, people tend to have a general idea and need some focused work to get the details right. In the second case, people tend to be at a loss of where to go next--the classic "gosh, I'm stumped," syndrome--and need some insight before continuing. Neither example follows the model absolutely (sometimes industry leads to insight, or vice-versa), but it does provide a useful framework for thinking about creative problems.
The point is that in my particular case, a lack of ideas for new posts seemed to mean a lack of new insight, not industry. Solving the problem meant disengaging from it for a while, letting the mind rest and associate freely across experience and memory, rather than plowing ahead. After about five days the germ of an idea came to mind. From there, the problem immediately changed from one of insight to one of industry. After all, "the germ of an idea" is not a completed work, and time, energy, and thought would be required to make it one. Having had the insight, I shifted gears and got to work.
Creativity is an important skill, and seems to be increasingly so. Getting a sense of how creativity functions for you--both when it's working, and when it's not--may prove helpful. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Thankfully, previous experience with writers' block helped me utilize the present bout more effectively. For starters, I worried a lot less this time around about the dearth of new material. Sometimes these things just happen, and excessive worry does little to remedy it. Any number of reasons could be at work, but taking a little time seemed to offer a universal solution no matter what it turned out to be. So I let the matter rest, and thought about other things.
This worked surprisingly well, and reinforces some of the ideas we've discussed in an earlier post on creativity. To summarize, there appear to be two broad ways by which creativity generates new ideas; one involving industry and the other insight. In the first case, people tend to have a general idea and need some focused work to get the details right. In the second case, people tend to be at a loss of where to go next--the classic "gosh, I'm stumped," syndrome--and need some insight before continuing. Neither example follows the model absolutely (sometimes industry leads to insight, or vice-versa), but it does provide a useful framework for thinking about creative problems.
The point is that in my particular case, a lack of ideas for new posts seemed to mean a lack of new insight, not industry. Solving the problem meant disengaging from it for a while, letting the mind rest and associate freely across experience and memory, rather than plowing ahead. After about five days the germ of an idea came to mind. From there, the problem immediately changed from one of insight to one of industry. After all, "the germ of an idea" is not a completed work, and time, energy, and thought would be required to make it one. Having had the insight, I shifted gears and got to work.
Creativity is an important skill, and seems to be increasingly so. Getting a sense of how creativity functions for you--both when it's working, and when it's not--may prove helpful. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Riding the waves of life
ZenHabits blogger Leo Babauta presented an interesting metaphor in his most recent post, suggesting that in life, "We are not walking a path, but surfing a sea." Like the sea, life is full of "waves" over which we have little control. Consequently, riding these waves isn't about strict planning so much as doing the best you can with whatever the sea (or life) offers.
Some days the offering is quite small, while others it's overwhelming. Knowing how to take whatever is given and make it meaningful is perhaps an important skill according to this understanding.
I rather like Mr. Babauta's metaphor, because it seems to capture something important about the diversity of influences in our lives; that some are within our control and others are not; indeed, a lot of trouble can arise when we confuse which is which. It's not an easy judgment to make, given the way influences change with context (another affinity with the sea). But it's one that with practice may help us appreciate all the gifts--obvious and otherwise--that life sends our way. Learning to use whatever is at hand may help us all ride the waves of life a little more peacefully. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Some days the offering is quite small, while others it's overwhelming. Knowing how to take whatever is given and make it meaningful is perhaps an important skill according to this understanding.
I rather like Mr. Babauta's metaphor, because it seems to capture something important about the diversity of influences in our lives; that some are within our control and others are not; indeed, a lot of trouble can arise when we confuse which is which. It's not an easy judgment to make, given the way influences change with context (another affinity with the sea). But it's one that with practice may help us appreciate all the gifts--obvious and otherwise--that life sends our way. Learning to use whatever is at hand may help us all ride the waves of life a little more peacefully. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Innovation and Failure
An interesting essay appeared in yesterday's The Wall Street Journal, entitled "Educating the next Steve Jobs," by Tony Wagner. Its purpose is to answer "how schools can teach innovation."
Mr. Wagner begins by asserting "that young Americans [today] learn how to innovate most often despite their schooling--not because of it." He goes on to describe a nexus of flaws in how modern education is delivered, which might be summarized in short as: the penalization of failure; the pressure to specialize; the passivity of most educational experiences; and an emphasis on grades rather than creating things. Following an exposition of each flaw, Mr. Wagner offers a possible solution to each: allow trial and error ("without [it], there is no innovation); emphasize inter-disciplinary learning; make class-work more "hands-on"; and ditch grades for some new method of assessment, such as a portfolio.
I believe Mr. Wagner makes some interesting points. The issue of penalizing failure is perhaps the most important. It's rarely helpful in my experience, though it does seem to motivate some people to be more diligent with their class-work. This benefit comes at a cost, however, in that it creates scenarios in which students may learn a lot but have only poor marks to show for it. Scenarios like this could make students more risk-averse even in situations where little is at stake, and much may be gained. Failure is important for learning, perhaps even essential; why penalize it? We might be better served developing systematic ways for teaching young people to use failure more constructively. Let's empower students to endure and learn from mistakes, not fear them.
Mr. Wagner's other points are also worth considering, but grappling with the issue of failure is arguably the most essential. As we discovered in an earlier post, even when they attended some of the most hands-on and rigorous private schools available today, students who could learn from failure (as opposed to those with the highest grades) out-performed everyone else. Perhaps this, as well as Mr. Wagner's others points, are worth considering.
Happy Saturday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Mr. Wagner begins by asserting "that young Americans [today] learn how to innovate most often despite their schooling--not because of it." He goes on to describe a nexus of flaws in how modern education is delivered, which might be summarized in short as: the penalization of failure; the pressure to specialize; the passivity of most educational experiences; and an emphasis on grades rather than creating things. Following an exposition of each flaw, Mr. Wagner offers a possible solution to each: allow trial and error ("without [it], there is no innovation); emphasize inter-disciplinary learning; make class-work more "hands-on"; and ditch grades for some new method of assessment, such as a portfolio.
I believe Mr. Wagner makes some interesting points. The issue of penalizing failure is perhaps the most important. It's rarely helpful in my experience, though it does seem to motivate some people to be more diligent with their class-work. This benefit comes at a cost, however, in that it creates scenarios in which students may learn a lot but have only poor marks to show for it. Scenarios like this could make students more risk-averse even in situations where little is at stake, and much may be gained. Failure is important for learning, perhaps even essential; why penalize it? We might be better served developing systematic ways for teaching young people to use failure more constructively. Let's empower students to endure and learn from mistakes, not fear them.
Mr. Wagner's other points are also worth considering, but grappling with the issue of failure is arguably the most essential. As we discovered in an earlier post, even when they attended some of the most hands-on and rigorous private schools available today, students who could learn from failure (as opposed to those with the highest grades) out-performed everyone else. Perhaps this, as well as Mr. Wagner's others points, are worth considering.
Happy Saturday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Friday, April 13, 2012
The Power of Small Changes
So I opened a retirement account this morning. It's a strange feeling planning so far into the future (I can't touch the account without penalties for almost 40 years), but I've learned there's a very good reason for it; namely, that small changes over a long interval can make an enormous difference.
That got me wondering about the power of small, consistent changes in how we do things. Call them habits if you will. Small changes in habit are usually easy to make, primarily because they're small and don't require much effort. Staying consistent also isn't usually hard, because the demands for time are so miniscule.
Yet small, consistent changes over time have the potential to make a real difference. Consider, a musician who spends just 2 minutes on technique drills at the beginning or the end of every practice session accumulates about one hour of focused technique work every month (assuming they play everyday). That's approximately 12 hours a year, and 120 hours a decade. That's just 2 minutes a day. Now imagine doing technique drills for 5 minutes a day instead. That's 2.5 hours a month, 30 hours a year, and 300 hours per decade.
As the above example illustrates, large transformations don't necessarily require huge stockpiles of will-power and grit. They just need a little of both, consistently and at the right time. This is good, you know, because while many people don't have an abundance of will or grit, they usually have some (however small), and making use of that finite capacity each day is one way they can make a big change in their life. You don't have to be a superman to make a big change; you just have to use what you've got in a consistent, well-understood manner. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Friday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
That got me wondering about the power of small, consistent changes in how we do things. Call them habits if you will. Small changes in habit are usually easy to make, primarily because they're small and don't require much effort. Staying consistent also isn't usually hard, because the demands for time are so miniscule.
Yet small, consistent changes over time have the potential to make a real difference. Consider, a musician who spends just 2 minutes on technique drills at the beginning or the end of every practice session accumulates about one hour of focused technique work every month (assuming they play everyday). That's approximately 12 hours a year, and 120 hours a decade. That's just 2 minutes a day. Now imagine doing technique drills for 5 minutes a day instead. That's 2.5 hours a month, 30 hours a year, and 300 hours per decade.
As the above example illustrates, large transformations don't necessarily require huge stockpiles of will-power and grit. They just need a little of both, consistently and at the right time. This is good, you know, because while many people don't have an abundance of will or grit, they usually have some (however small), and making use of that finite capacity each day is one way they can make a big change in their life. You don't have to be a superman to make a big change; you just have to use what you've got in a consistent, well-understood manner. Something to consider anyway.
Happy Friday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
"The Blue Mountain" turns 1
Today marks the 1-year anniversary of "The Blue Mountain," a blog I started last April to explore ideas that interested me. A lot has changed in that time. For instance, at first the blog was titled die blauen Berg, an incorrect rendering of the German phrase "the blue mountain." The error was brought to my attention by my German TA, and subsequently corrected to der blaue Berg. Earlier this month, the name was changed again to its direct English rendering, "The Blue Mountain." A brief explanation as to why can be found here.
Another change that's occurred involved my own situation, in that since the blog's beginning I've graduated college and gone about finding my way in the world. This transition has proved one of the most transformational (and difficult) I've yet experienced, and the road ahead remains unclear. It's also provided a trove of ideas and experience, which together have expanded the range of topics explored on the blog. I don't know what fruit if any this exercise will yield for others, but for myself it has served to highlight a little further everyday life's oddities, conundrums, and simple blessings from unexpected corners. This, I believe, is a good thing. Sharing the journey with others is likewise.
At any rate, I would like to thank everyone who's taken the time to read the blog, and provide such insight as they might have. It's been an amazing year, and perhaps the coming year will prove similar. Thank you again, and
Happy Tuesday, friends :).
P.S. In case you're curious, this was "The Blue Mountain's" first ever post.
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Another change that's occurred involved my own situation, in that since the blog's beginning I've graduated college and gone about finding my way in the world. This transition has proved one of the most transformational (and difficult) I've yet experienced, and the road ahead remains unclear. It's also provided a trove of ideas and experience, which together have expanded the range of topics explored on the blog. I don't know what fruit if any this exercise will yield for others, but for myself it has served to highlight a little further everyday life's oddities, conundrums, and simple blessings from unexpected corners. This, I believe, is a good thing. Sharing the journey with others is likewise.
At any rate, I would like to thank everyone who's taken the time to read the blog, and provide such insight as they might have. It's been an amazing year, and perhaps the coming year will prove similar. Thank you again, and
Happy Tuesday, friends :).
P.S. In case you're curious, this was "The Blue Mountain's" first ever post.
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Discussing Amby Burfoot's interview with Alberto Salazar
I found an interesting interview the other day by Amby Burfoot, a Runner's World columnist, with Alberto Salazar. The interview was conducted in light of Mr. Salazar's forthcoming autobiography, 14 Minutes, which hits bookstores today (see a review here, or the amazon page here).
The interview (see part I and part II) interested me for a number of reasons, but two stood out in particular. First was Mr. Salazar's discussion of Galen Rupp's potential marathon debut. As some may know, Mr. Rupp surprised many by entering the US Olympic Marathon Trials this past year, only to withdraw shortly before the race. The incident sparked much discussion regarding Mr. Rupp's marathon potential, given his 10km and half-marathon results. Later, rumors arose that Mr. Rupp would make his marathon debut following the London Olympics in 2012. These rumors where quashed in the interview we're now discussing. In it, Mr. Salazar mentions briefly why he's ruled out the marathon for his charge for the time being:
"He [Rupp] absolutely will run the marathon some day. I’ve had conversations with both Carey Pinkowski and Mary Wittenberg [Chicago and New York City Marathon directors] about Galen running their races this fall. At first I was thinking that he could run a fall marathon and then get back to where he was in maybe five months to be ready for the next track season.
Now I’m looking at it another way. I’m looking at Galen’s improvement curve, which is basically continuous through his entire career to this point. And I’m thinking: Why do anything that interrupts the improvement curve? Our goal isn’t to experiment with something new that might work out, but might not. Our goal is to keep improving."
As the Letsrun.com link from above (here) hints at, some people believe marathon training would be ideal for Mr. Rupp's development in shorter distances. After all, the example is not without precedent. Discussed in this Running Times article, Peter Snell ran his first (and only) marathon in the build-up to his world-record 1:44.3 800m on grass in 1962. Yet as we discussed in an earlier post, marathon running seems to cause a kind of muscle damage from which it takes considerable time to recover (upwards of six-weeks according to some studies). This does not suggest people should not run marathons; it does suggest, however, that muscles damaged in marathons take a long time to heal. In Mr. Rupp's case, who is to say that time might not be more effectively employed developing other components of fitness?
This leads to the second point from the interview which I found interesting. At one point, Amby Burfoot asks Mr. Salazar what he thought was the biggest mistake in his running career. To this he replied:
" I didn’t give myself enough breaks during the training year to recover. I didn’t understand the power of periodization. I would take maybe two days off after a season, then do 70 miles the next week, and 100 the week after that. I basically got no rest at all.
My training was very, very hard, but that’s something you have to do. I wouldn’t change that. You can’t run incredible races without incredibly hard workouts. Nobody can do mediocre workouts, and then sprinkle pixie dust on them to produce great races. I did the workouts, but didn’t have the recovery periods, and that’s why I burned out sooner than I should have."
Accordingly, Mr. Salazar puts a strong emphasis on recovery for the athletes he coaches today:
"With my runners now, they get two month-long breaks during the year. In the first, after summer track season ends, they take two weeks completely off, and then do two weeks of easy jogging. In March, they take a week off, do a week of jogging, and then do two moderate weeks with light interval training before they get back into the real training cycle.
I’ve found that my athletes run their best races after about 10 weeks of intense training. They can’t sustain it and get the same results if they go beyond 10 weeks. And 20 weeks of training with less intensity doesn’t lead to the same peak."
In addition to his point on recovery, Mr. Salazar also echoes conclusions we've discussed regarding periodization and peaking, in that it takes about 10-weeks of intense training to reach a peak level of fitness for a season. Longer periods with less intensity, as he notes, produce less-favorable results.
Mr. Salazar's approach to coaching, so far as it is revealed in this interview, is instructive in that it points to an understanding of training that's focused on long-term improvement. In addition to his knowledge of modern training theory, Mr. Salazar also draws on his own experiences with over-training and pre-mature decline. Indeed, for all the importance Dr. Tim Noakes puts on the superior genetic pedigree of elite athletes, Mr. Salazar's partnership with Galen Rupp this past decade is a testament to the efficacy of a sensibly-designed training program for cultivating continuous improvement. Mr. Salazar's refusal to enter Rupp in a marathon is perhaps just one more indication of this focus on long-term development. I'm sure many would disagree with this approach, but I do not. Well-conceived training is a blessing not every athlete gets in their athletic life, and it's possible that Mr. Salazar's experiences with a spectacular-yet-short career may well benefit Mr. Rupp and others as they seek out the limits of their own potential. Something worth considering anyway.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
The interview (see part I and part II) interested me for a number of reasons, but two stood out in particular. First was Mr. Salazar's discussion of Galen Rupp's potential marathon debut. As some may know, Mr. Rupp surprised many by entering the US Olympic Marathon Trials this past year, only to withdraw shortly before the race. The incident sparked much discussion regarding Mr. Rupp's marathon potential, given his 10km and half-marathon results. Later, rumors arose that Mr. Rupp would make his marathon debut following the London Olympics in 2012. These rumors where quashed in the interview we're now discussing. In it, Mr. Salazar mentions briefly why he's ruled out the marathon for his charge for the time being:
"He [Rupp] absolutely will run the marathon some day. I’ve had conversations with both Carey Pinkowski and Mary Wittenberg [Chicago and New York City Marathon directors] about Galen running their races this fall. At first I was thinking that he could run a fall marathon and then get back to where he was in maybe five months to be ready for the next track season.
Now I’m looking at it another way. I’m looking at Galen’s improvement curve, which is basically continuous through his entire career to this point. And I’m thinking: Why do anything that interrupts the improvement curve? Our goal isn’t to experiment with something new that might work out, but might not. Our goal is to keep improving."
As the Letsrun.com link from above (here) hints at, some people believe marathon training would be ideal for Mr. Rupp's development in shorter distances. After all, the example is not without precedent. Discussed in this Running Times article, Peter Snell ran his first (and only) marathon in the build-up to his world-record 1:44.3 800m on grass in 1962. Yet as we discussed in an earlier post, marathon running seems to cause a kind of muscle damage from which it takes considerable time to recover (upwards of six-weeks according to some studies). This does not suggest people should not run marathons; it does suggest, however, that muscles damaged in marathons take a long time to heal. In Mr. Rupp's case, who is to say that time might not be more effectively employed developing other components of fitness?
This leads to the second point from the interview which I found interesting. At one point, Amby Burfoot asks Mr. Salazar what he thought was the biggest mistake in his running career. To this he replied:
" I didn’t give myself enough breaks during the training year to recover. I didn’t understand the power of periodization. I would take maybe two days off after a season, then do 70 miles the next week, and 100 the week after that. I basically got no rest at all.
My training was very, very hard, but that’s something you have to do. I wouldn’t change that. You can’t run incredible races without incredibly hard workouts. Nobody can do mediocre workouts, and then sprinkle pixie dust on them to produce great races. I did the workouts, but didn’t have the recovery periods, and that’s why I burned out sooner than I should have."
Accordingly, Mr. Salazar puts a strong emphasis on recovery for the athletes he coaches today:
"With my runners now, they get two month-long breaks during the year. In the first, after summer track season ends, they take two weeks completely off, and then do two weeks of easy jogging. In March, they take a week off, do a week of jogging, and then do two moderate weeks with light interval training before they get back into the real training cycle.
I’ve found that my athletes run their best races after about 10 weeks of intense training. They can’t sustain it and get the same results if they go beyond 10 weeks. And 20 weeks of training with less intensity doesn’t lead to the same peak."
In addition to his point on recovery, Mr. Salazar also echoes conclusions we've discussed regarding periodization and peaking, in that it takes about 10-weeks of intense training to reach a peak level of fitness for a season. Longer periods with less intensity, as he notes, produce less-favorable results.
Mr. Salazar's approach to coaching, so far as it is revealed in this interview, is instructive in that it points to an understanding of training that's focused on long-term improvement. In addition to his knowledge of modern training theory, Mr. Salazar also draws on his own experiences with over-training and pre-mature decline. Indeed, for all the importance Dr. Tim Noakes puts on the superior genetic pedigree of elite athletes, Mr. Salazar's partnership with Galen Rupp this past decade is a testament to the efficacy of a sensibly-designed training program for cultivating continuous improvement. Mr. Salazar's refusal to enter Rupp in a marathon is perhaps just one more indication of this focus on long-term development. I'm sure many would disagree with this approach, but I do not. Well-conceived training is a blessing not every athlete gets in their athletic life, and it's possible that Mr. Salazar's experiences with a spectacular-yet-short career may well benefit Mr. Rupp and others as they seek out the limits of their own potential. Something worth considering anyway.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Friday, April 6, 2012
A Thought-Experiment
I performed a little thought experiment this evening while cooking and thought I'd share it. The experiment began with a question:
What are some things that sound easy at first, but are actually quite difficult in practice?
It's a funny question you know, in large part because of the way it can surprise and astonish. This quality, I believe, is a good thing.
At any rate, two things in particular came to mind upon asking this question of myself. The first involved sitting quietly in a room and doing nothing at all for about an hour. You might think doing nothing is easy enough, but for many people (myself included) doing nothing is actually quite difficult. Try it if you like, just to see how you react. Consider the thoughts that enter your mind, or the impulses that emerge from the inner-chatter of your thought. How do you feel when you do nothing? Does it require much effort to stay put and keep from applying your energy to something other than sitting? The exercise is an interesting one, and as I said, it can prove far more difficult in practice than it sounds at first.
The second thing that came to mind involved letting go of thoughts about the past and the future. Take a moment if you like, just to observe the kinds of thoughts that regularly come to mind. What are they like? Are you thinking about something that happened in the past? Or are you considering something involving the future, such as "what should I do now?"
In both cases, it can prove difficult to stop thinking of either. This is not necessarily a bad thing (see Jonah Lehrer's February 2010 piece from The New York Times), as this tendency seems to allow people to think deeply about a subject. But it can also cultivate debilitating mental states like depression. As Mr. Lehrer points out, there is surprisingly little difference between a brain that is concentrating and a brain that's depressed: both involve fixating on a particular idea, over-and-over again. That thought may be a good one (think Darwin and his preoccupation with evolution), but it may also be one that leaves you very upset.
Having considered this idea, I wondered how one might more easily let go of the harmful sort of thought. At first nothing came to mind, but then I examined the spatula in my hand and imagined it was a thought I wanted to let go. I even imagined little letters appearing on the handle reading "bad thought." With that, I put the spatula on the pan, walked to other side of the kitchen, turned around, and gave the stove a look. Strangely enough I felt lighter than before, even though I didn't actually feel a need to let go of any thoughts just then. "What on earth happened?" I wondered to myself. Had I actually ditched some mental baggage unintentionally? It was very strange.
Yet perhaps it was also illustrative. Indeed, both tasks I'd considered--doing nothing, and thinking about neither the past or the future--seem be made easier by learning how to let go of mental baggage. In our experiment, the mental action occurred with the intervention of a physical proxy (the spatula). Without the physical object, the task was very difficult; with it, the task became much easier.
I'm not certain what this means precisely, except that letting go of certain mental preoccupations (which are very normal) seems to make certain types of concentration-heavy tasks easier. Perhaps it is akin to lightening one's back-pack before climbing a mountain; the more you bring with you, the harder the climb. That's one possibility.
In any case, I encourage you to try the thought-experiment yourself. You may be surprised what you find.
Happy Friday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
What are some things that sound easy at first, but are actually quite difficult in practice?
It's a funny question you know, in large part because of the way it can surprise and astonish. This quality, I believe, is a good thing.
At any rate, two things in particular came to mind upon asking this question of myself. The first involved sitting quietly in a room and doing nothing at all for about an hour. You might think doing nothing is easy enough, but for many people (myself included) doing nothing is actually quite difficult. Try it if you like, just to see how you react. Consider the thoughts that enter your mind, or the impulses that emerge from the inner-chatter of your thought. How do you feel when you do nothing? Does it require much effort to stay put and keep from applying your energy to something other than sitting? The exercise is an interesting one, and as I said, it can prove far more difficult in practice than it sounds at first.
The second thing that came to mind involved letting go of thoughts about the past and the future. Take a moment if you like, just to observe the kinds of thoughts that regularly come to mind. What are they like? Are you thinking about something that happened in the past? Or are you considering something involving the future, such as "what should I do now?"
In both cases, it can prove difficult to stop thinking of either. This is not necessarily a bad thing (see Jonah Lehrer's February 2010 piece from The New York Times), as this tendency seems to allow people to think deeply about a subject. But it can also cultivate debilitating mental states like depression. As Mr. Lehrer points out, there is surprisingly little difference between a brain that is concentrating and a brain that's depressed: both involve fixating on a particular idea, over-and-over again. That thought may be a good one (think Darwin and his preoccupation with evolution), but it may also be one that leaves you very upset.
Having considered this idea, I wondered how one might more easily let go of the harmful sort of thought. At first nothing came to mind, but then I examined the spatula in my hand and imagined it was a thought I wanted to let go. I even imagined little letters appearing on the handle reading "bad thought." With that, I put the spatula on the pan, walked to other side of the kitchen, turned around, and gave the stove a look. Strangely enough I felt lighter than before, even though I didn't actually feel a need to let go of any thoughts just then. "What on earth happened?" I wondered to myself. Had I actually ditched some mental baggage unintentionally? It was very strange.
Yet perhaps it was also illustrative. Indeed, both tasks I'd considered--doing nothing, and thinking about neither the past or the future--seem be made easier by learning how to let go of mental baggage. In our experiment, the mental action occurred with the intervention of a physical proxy (the spatula). Without the physical object, the task was very difficult; with it, the task became much easier.
I'm not certain what this means precisely, except that letting go of certain mental preoccupations (which are very normal) seems to make certain types of concentration-heavy tasks easier. Perhaps it is akin to lightening one's back-pack before climbing a mountain; the more you bring with you, the harder the climb. That's one possibility.
In any case, I encourage you to try the thought-experiment yourself. You may be surprised what you find.
Happy Friday, friends :)
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it with others. Many thanks!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
A Memorial to Caballo Blanco (1954-2012)
Several days ago I learned of the sad news that Micah True--popularly known as Caballo Blanco, "The White Horse"--recently passed away while running in New Mexico. He was 57 years old.
I'm afraid I don't know much about Mr. Blanco, except as the eccentric (some would say crazy) running man described by Christopher McDougall in his 2009 best-selling book Born to Run. Among other things, Caballo Blanco befriended a tribe of secluded running people, founded the Copper Canyon Ultra-Marathon, and taught a broken-down ex-runner how to run without pain. For better or worse, Mr. McDougall's depiction of Mr. Blanco sparked an intense debate over the vices and virtues of bare-foot running, a debate that continues today.
All that aside, the way Caballo Blanco touched people is perhaps the thing for which he will best be remembered. Indeed, he was not a famous person who sought the lime-light, but a fairly kind, down-to-earth, and honest fellow with a passion for bringing people together by running. Leading up to the 2011 Copper Canyon Ultra-Marathon--a race he founded--Mr. Blanco wrote, "While some are at war in many parts of Northern Mexico and the world, we came together at the bottom of a deep canyon to share with the local people of the region, eat, laugh, dance, run, and create peace" (source).
Mr. Blanco was and remains an inspiration to me for many reasons, but perhaps two stand out most prominently. First was his message about running, which he said should be, "...easy, light, smoooooth, [and] happy." Whether you run with shoes or without, such advice seems helpful for reducing injuries and maintaining a positive attitude.
Second, and more importantly, was his advice on life. Many people have quoted from his Facebook page the last few days, but I think it appropriate for how we remember Caballo Blanco. In January 2012, he wrote:
"If I were to be remembered for anything at all, I would want that to be that I was/am authentic. No mas. Run free!"
Run free: perhaps advice as relevant for life as it is for running. Be authentic, be true to yourself, and no mas [no more]. Based on the grueling way he went about doing this in his own life, we might also add to that, "and be no less."
Thank you, Mr. Blanco, for your example. You will be missed.
Peace.
I'm afraid I don't know much about Mr. Blanco, except as the eccentric (some would say crazy) running man described by Christopher McDougall in his 2009 best-selling book Born to Run. Among other things, Caballo Blanco befriended a tribe of secluded running people, founded the Copper Canyon Ultra-Marathon, and taught a broken-down ex-runner how to run without pain. For better or worse, Mr. McDougall's depiction of Mr. Blanco sparked an intense debate over the vices and virtues of bare-foot running, a debate that continues today.
All that aside, the way Caballo Blanco touched people is perhaps the thing for which he will best be remembered. Indeed, he was not a famous person who sought the lime-light, but a fairly kind, down-to-earth, and honest fellow with a passion for bringing people together by running. Leading up to the 2011 Copper Canyon Ultra-Marathon--a race he founded--Mr. Blanco wrote, "While some are at war in many parts of Northern Mexico and the world, we came together at the bottom of a deep canyon to share with the local people of the region, eat, laugh, dance, run, and create peace" (source).
Mr. Blanco was and remains an inspiration to me for many reasons, but perhaps two stand out most prominently. First was his message about running, which he said should be, "...easy, light, smoooooth, [and] happy." Whether you run with shoes or without, such advice seems helpful for reducing injuries and maintaining a positive attitude.
Second, and more importantly, was his advice on life. Many people have quoted from his Facebook page the last few days, but I think it appropriate for how we remember Caballo Blanco. In January 2012, he wrote:
"If I were to be remembered for anything at all, I would want that to be that I was/am authentic. No mas. Run free!"
Run free: perhaps advice as relevant for life as it is for running. Be authentic, be true to yourself, and no mas [no more]. Based on the grueling way he went about doing this in his own life, we might also add to that, "and be no less."
Thank you, Mr. Blanco, for your example. You will be missed.
Peace.
Changes to the blog: A new title, and new background
I made some changes recently to the blog, most notably to the title and the background. I'd be more than happy to hear your thoughts on these changes if you have any. Below I'll discuss some of my own.
The new title is "The Blue Mountain," a direct English translation of "der blaue Berg," the previous German title. I made the change primarily for the sake of simplicity, as most of the people with whom I discuss the blog and the ideas which it explores are English-speakers. To this one might add that the blog is written exclusively in English. All signs therefore seemed to point toward an English title, so now the blog has one.
The other change I've made is to the background. While the previous background very nicely captured the title in image form, the dark color-scheme long struck me as a bit dim and moody, a nexus of associations more inclined to frowns and sadness than smiles and good cheer. Furthermore, the fine details in the previous background too often seemed to distract from the text itself, a quality that has both positive and negative consequences. On balance, I decided a brighter, simpler, and more open look would better convey the mood of a happy, lively, and quiet place for reflection. Finally the image of birds taking flight struck me as uniquely appropriate, since one of the core purposes of this blog is to help and encourage people to take flight and thrive in whatever pursuit life calls them to do.
At any rate those are the major changes to the blog thus far, and something of their underlying logic. Further changes may come in time. I hope the new title and background improve your experience here on the mountain.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
The new title is "The Blue Mountain," a direct English translation of "der blaue Berg," the previous German title. I made the change primarily for the sake of simplicity, as most of the people with whom I discuss the blog and the ideas which it explores are English-speakers. To this one might add that the blog is written exclusively in English. All signs therefore seemed to point toward an English title, so now the blog has one.
The other change I've made is to the background. While the previous background very nicely captured the title in image form, the dark color-scheme long struck me as a bit dim and moody, a nexus of associations more inclined to frowns and sadness than smiles and good cheer. Furthermore, the fine details in the previous background too often seemed to distract from the text itself, a quality that has both positive and negative consequences. On balance, I decided a brighter, simpler, and more open look would better convey the mood of a happy, lively, and quiet place for reflection. Finally the image of birds taking flight struck me as uniquely appropriate, since one of the core purposes of this blog is to help and encourage people to take flight and thrive in whatever pursuit life calls them to do.
At any rate those are the major changes to the blog thus far, and something of their underlying logic. Further changes may come in time. I hope the new title and background improve your experience here on the mountain.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)