The first day of summer arrived in NE Iowa under threat of severe weather. Looking west from our driveway (the top of which serves as my start/finish line for my runs) I saw the all-too familiar dark blue/grey skies which feature at best heavy rains and at worst severe weather. That can mean a number of things in Iowa.
Severe thunderstorms. Flash flooding. Hail. Severe wind gusts. Lightning. Tornadoes.
In addition to Coach Chris Bennett’s 5 mile guided run on my Nike Run Club App in my headphones, I also had Ross Carpenter’s morning show on KWMT on the IHeart Radio App. KWMT is based in Fort Dodge, Iowa, a city about 90 miles west of us here in Cedar Falls. They specialize in playing seven decades worth of classic country music. I am not sure why. but I have come to love old country music in the last few years. Maybe it reminds me of my late Grandmother Coleen on my mom’s side of the family. Maybe it hearkens back to my childhood watching my mother bop around the house listening to “He’s A Heartache” by Janie Fricke or “When You Think About Love, Think About Me” by Dolly Parton or “Bop” by Dan Seals or any other great song in the post- “Urban Cowboy” countrypolitan movement of the early 80’s.
While Carpenter was spinning the aforementioned “Bop” by Dan Seals, the all-too-familiar harsh tones of the severe weather alert system activated and somewhere my wife was smiling, as she hates that song.
Flash flooding. Greene County, Webster County and some other counties to the west. Looks like Nebraska and the far west part of Iowa along the Missouri River is going to get socked again. Haven’t they had enough?
The forecast is calling for rain, severe thunderstorms and humidity all through the weekend. As I mentioned before I don’t care to run on back-to-back days, let alone 12 hours apart, but I wanted to make room for an 11 mile run on Monday after work. That will be the last long run before the Sturgis Falls Half-Marathon on Sunday June 30th. Tuesday, I have the day off, but it is my week to mow the lawn at the church I attend. I had no idea that our church had such lengthy land holdings until I mowed the first. It’s gonna be at least a two hour job.
About 12 hours after yesterday’s awful run on a splitting headache (a run I felt I had to make in the name of mental toughness normally headaches lay me out flat and I become useless) I lined up this morning at the top of the driveway about 7 a.m. I came into the run with no expectations at the start.
But something happened once the Nike Run Club app on the phone gave out a vibration on my phone signaling the start of the 5 mile run. I liked the way I came down the driveway. It felt natural. I had to calm down throughout the first half-mile and not rush the first mile. Especially on extended runs, bursts of hyperactive enthusiasm on the first two miles result in uncontrolled chaos on the back part of the run. I didn’t pick a specific point to pick up the pace preferring to ease into the run. About three-fourths of a mile into the run, I began to accelerate ever-so-slightly. I noticed something else. Instead of hearing chatter in my head, all I heard was the sound of my breathing. As I entered the cul-de-sac where I joined the Cedar Prairie Trail, I noticed that my eyes were not looking around but focused in tight on the horizon. This was going to be a good run, I could tell. Maybe not in terms of time, but definitely in terms of feeling and form. I was locked in.
I kept the form and the tempo up as the miles went on. When I reached the half-way point just past the Waterloo Road underpass, I made a wider turn than usual in order to keep pace. Thanks to taking Coach Bennett’s words to heart, I knew this would be a crucial part of the run- the third quarter of the race. That is where my mind tends to wander off and I go into a lull. All of my times reflect this downturn in quality. Determined that this was not going to happen today, I broke the back half of the run into small bits. I focused on a tree. Or a bench. Or a sign. Anything along the way. I thought if I would break down the run into smaller chunks I could maintain or even improve on pace and avoid the lull.
When Coach Bennett called for an increase in speed in the 4th mile for about 150 meters, I handled it without getting uncomfortable or feeling I like I was losing control of the run. On the last half-mile straightaway leading home, I didn’t feel like I was losing speed at all.
When I arrived at 5 miles just outside our front door, I looked at my splits and found that I had the best run statistically that I ever had with the splits decreasing in time as the miles rolled on.
Splits
- 9:52
- 9:19
- 9:15
- 9:15
- 9:12
- 9:10 (Fastest)
Seeing these numbers pleased me.
But then I thought of something else. How many times in my life did I quit at something when I had a hard run? Or a hard day? Or a setback?
How would my life be different if I had stuck out some of the activities I did and not let a negative practice or a bad session stop me from lining up the next morning?
Yesterday, I had the worst run I ever had in my running life. Twelve hours later, I had a new PR on my five mile run. It’s true that one day you could be doing something and feel like you are on top of the world and then the next day or next session you feel like you are scrapping the bottom of the barrel. But the opposite is true too.
What happened to me over this last day illustrates the importance of showing up. Especially showing up after a set back or a hard run. In fact, I would dare say that the most important run a person can take is the run after a disastrous one. We can’t let our negative thoughts or negative experiences be the last word on things.
I remember in 9th grade I attempted to try out for the East High School Basketball team in Pueblo, Colorado during my cup of coffee at that school. Practice was frustrating so I quietly dismissed myself from the gym and walked home. No one noticed I left. What would have happened if I had applied myself? What would have happened if I kept showing up and tried my best? I haven’t thought about that moment in 25 years but I am thinking about it now suddenly as an example of what I am talking about.
I’ll never know. But I know enough now to know that I have to keep showing up. Maybe not day-after-day because I need to give my joints time to heal, but there must be a next time. For every bad run, there needs to be a redemption run. The baser versions of ourselves cannot be allowed to win.
We may be one run away from a disaster. But we may be one run away from greatness. We will never know unless we keep lining up.
319 Iowa Runner 