Feats of Wonder

Sport challenges the paradigm of perceived possibilities because the arena is filled with ordinary people, who happen to be extraordinary athletes, piercing otherwise assumed psychological and physiological limits.

Up to the middle of the last century, it was widely assumed by medical experts, elite athletes, coaches and trainers, and thus, most everyone else in the world as well, that man was incapable of running a sub-four minute mile. In 1945 Gunder Hagg of Sweden ran a 4:01.4 mile and for nine years no one seriously challenged his world record. But on May 6, 1954 at Iffley Road track in Oxford, 3,000 spectators watched in awe as Roger Bannister, a sinewy 25-year old British medical student, did what man was not supposed to do — he ran a mile in 3:59.4.

Perhaps equally amazing as the feat itself is the force with which Bannister’s historic mile shattered a psychological barrier. Only 46 days later in a race in Finland, John Landy broke Bannister’s record with a 3:57.9 mile. By the end of 1957, sixteen men had run a sub-four minute mile. In 1964, 17 year-old Jim Ryun from Wichita, Kansas became the first high-school runner to break the four-minute mile. In 1994 Eamonn Coghlan became the oldest person to run a sub-four minute mile. As a 41 year-old, his time of 3:58.15 was a full second and a half faster than Roger Bannister recorded 40 years prior in his historic run in Oxford.

Currently the world mile record is an amazing 3:43.13 set by Hicham El Guerrouj of Morocco in Rome in 1999. (Bannister, running in 1954, would be about 120 yards behind El Guerrouj when he crossed the finish line in 1999.)

To date, over 995 runners have accomplished the feat more than 4700 times, making a sub-four minute mile, once a barrier humans were not supposed to be able to break, seem almost pedestrian.

Prior to 1976 no athlete had ever received a score of 10 in any Olympic gymnastics event. A 10, after all, was perfect, signifying the ideal performance one could possibly imagine. And athletes, as humans, were not supposed to be able to obtain the unobtainable. But on July 18, 1976, the first day of gymnastics competition in Montreal, Nadia Comaneci, a 14 year-old gymnast from Romania, stuck her landing after a flawless performance on the uneven bars and was greeted with thunderous applause and a scoreboard that flashed “1.0.” (So elusive was the perfect score that the scoreboard was not designed to display double digits.) Incredibly, Nadia did what no athlete was supposed to do six more times during the Montreal Olympics, receiving a total of seven perfect 10 scores on her way to winning five medals.

In 1936, on his way to winning four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics, Jesse Owens, “the African-American son of a sharecropper and the grandson of slaves had single-handedly crushed Hitler’s myth of Aryan supremacy” (“Owens Pierced a Myth” by Larry Schwartz).

Jackie Robinson, on April 17, 1947, ran out of the Dodgers dugout at Ebbits Field to take his position at first base, and wearing number 42, became the first person to break the color barrier in Major League Baseball.

Billie Jean King whipped Bobby Riggs in straight sets in 1973 in the tennis match hyped as “The Battle of the Sexes” and illustrated for a nation that women were as good as, if not better, than men in sports.

And on February 22nd at the 1980 Winter Olympics, the US amateur hockey team defeated the four-time defending gold medal champions, the USSR, in what became instantly known as “The Miracle on Ice”, inspiring a renewed sense of hope and pride in the hearts of Americans and foreshadowing the eventual decline of the Soviet empire.

I offer these historical examples because they well-illustrate the worn, warm cliche that the impossible is indeed not; all is attainable. Progress is oft achieved when we dare to do what we are not supposed to do.

I am still trying to comprehend the idea of running for 350 miles non-stop (see previous entry). Yet doing so allows me to reflect on my personal goals, both in sport and in life. The actual task changes constantly (graduate from college; discover and pursue a passion; complete an Ironman triathlon; update my blog more regularly; travel to South America; transform my long list of acquaintances into a short-list of special friends by investing and nurturing those relationships I care most about; learn to flambe), but the aim is always the same: to better my mind, body, and character.

Thus to my dream, and to yours, I say…

Run With It!
J.R. Atwood

Feet of Wonder

I am not sure what is more amazing: That ultra-marathon man Dean Karnazes recently ran nonstop for 350 miles. That in doing so he consumed 40,000 calories and drank nine gallons of liquid — “what a normal person eats in about three weeks” — during the sleepless 80 hour and 44 minute run. Or that there is a “marathon tot,” Budhia Singh, in India who — as a three-year-old! — regularly runs over 30 miles nonstop.

These feats of endurance illustrate the power of the mind over the body. In Mr. Karnazes’ case, it is his ability to utilize his mind to shatter the idea that man is meant to, or able to, only go so far. In the case of Budhia, it may be his inexperience that allows him to run and run and run. His mind does not know that his body is not supposed to go as far as he pushes himself. He is a child who sees the world for what it is: his playground. Limits are not yet a part of his psychology.

My own experience has proven that my most awesome ability to consume miles and tolerate pain arrive near the bookends of my tenure with a sport, both when I am too naive to know anything more than going hard, and when I have learned through the experience of loss that limits are self-defined.

When I was a naive eighth-grader at Los Cerros Middle School I had the opportunity to run with the varsity track team at Monte Vista High School. At practice I sported the only training gear I owned: my double-thick yellow and blue reversible shirt and cotton shorts from PE class, and those Adidas Samba indoor soccer shoes that were ubiquitous on the playground in 1995.

Back then I ran with a singular, simple purpose: to have fun, the only way which I knew was to run fast. I was unaware of “the wall” and did not know what an excuse was. When coach said “run”, I did.

I tackled all warm-ups and workouts at this level, the measurement of success which I could not calculate except by comparing myself to those around me. So I ran stride-for-stride with the the seniors at the front, charging ahead carefree.

Then I entered high school and the world of competitive sports.

I learned that there were certain benchmarks and goals I could or should achieve with the proper balance of rest, pacing, weight lifting, water running, and active stretching. I benefited from smart and experienced coaches. I attended workshops, classes, and read about the science of sport: fitness, nutrition, physiology, psychology, and periodization, all of which made me a more educated athlete.

But I also allowed it to make me a less competitive athlete. For in this sea of data I found the excuse to temper, control, tame, or ignore a once blind need for speed. My ferociousness on the track and cross-country course was kept in check by stop watches, coaches yelling splits, a fear of over-training, and warnings to not over-do it.

I started thinking too much. Limits, my own physical limits, became something I was aware of and concerned with.

It was not until college that I learned to use my mind as a true training partner, rather than to allow it to be a mental hurdle to my athletic endeavors.

I was on the rowing team and a member of a brethren of twenty of the most determined men I have had the opportunity to share my life with. We started the year a scrappy bunch, neophytes to crew who simply shared a desire to be a part of a team and jumped at the opportunity to see if we had what it takes to be an NCAA Division I athlete.

By year’s end, our team captured a number of first place finishes, including a championship trophy at the prestigious Dad Vail Regatta, and I came to understand that the only thing that often separated us from our peers — and what distinguishes athletes like Mr. Karnazes — is the ability to believe that the answer to “how far?” and “how hard?” can we push our bodies is: “Always farther, always harder, always more.”

This is a revelation that I achieved only when encouraged, inspired, or forced by coaches and teammates to “make it hurt.”

I often felt we were destroying our bodies by pushing them so hard. On a few occasions I thought of reporting the number of hours that we invested on the water, in the gym, and on the field to the NCAA for what had to be a violation of training limits. I was absolutely convinced on numerous occasions that my heart was literally going to explode if I had to do even just one more jumpie, one more 2000 meter interval on the erg machines, one more push-up or pull-up, one more minute of wall sits, one more bench press or squat or leg extension set, one more hill run. All of which we did do. Over and over over.

There was a lot of sweat. Much pain. Sometimes there were tears. And occasionally blood. But no one died.

The only thing that expired was our self-doubt. Slowly, but surely, we shattered our otherwise assumed mental and physical limits and a supreme confidence infused us with a belief that anything and everything is possible.

This was not blind belief. This was born from experience.

Thus Mr. Karnazes’ “eventual goal to run 500 miles nonstop”, a milestone that seems today near impossible to imagine, is a goal that either he, because he believes he can, or perhaps maybe a carefree soul like Budhia Singh, because he does not yet know he is not supposed to, will very well one day achieve. The mind is funny like that.

Run With It!
J.R. Atwood

Notes:

Click here to read the Outside Magazine article about Mr. Karnazes’ historical 350-mile non-stop run. Also be sure to read a fascinating interview with “Ultramarathon Man” Dean Karnazes at Scott Dunlap’s A Trail Runner’s Blog by clicking here.

The story of Budhia Sing, unfortunately, along with being incredible, is tragically sad. Young Budhia was sold by his “poverty-stricken mother to a man for 800 rupees [the equivalent of $18 USD].” Budhia was bought by Biranchi Das, a judo coach in India’s eastern Orissa state. Mr. Das is fielding criticism about exploiting Budhia and exposing him to a regimen that may be damaging to his heart and lungs. Click here to read the article about young Budhia at BBC News.

A Better Mousetrap: PowerCranks and Rotor Cranks Offer A New Spin On How To Spin

Cranks, the arms/handles attached to our pedals that we push-down and pull-up on to achieve rotary motion, are one of the most unsexy aspects of our road and triathlon bikes.

 

Frames and forks get lots of attention from designers and riding enthusiasts, as do wheels, tires, even seats and water bottle cages! But cranks? Very little to innovate on.

Until now. Enter PowerCranks and Rotor Cranks.

But is it all hype and marketing, or is there something to be gained by using these radical components?

Brad Cooper of Inside Triathlon says his power outage increased a whopping 49 watts — 20%! — by using these two new promising training tools. Leave a comment with your email address if you would like me to send you a PDF of Brad’s article, “Transition Area Bike Review: PowerCranks or Rotor Cranks?” Buying one — or both — of these cranks may be the best investment you make for your bike to strengthen your leg muscles.

Run With It!
J.R. Atwood