Playing With The Hand You're Dealt
As in poker, or life, in the marathon, you can't control the cards you're dealt. You got to play with the hand you're dealt. The classic "uncontrollables" for a racer are the weather, the course, and the competition. Aside from electing to scratch from a race, there's nothing you can do about any of them to change them. You can mitigate their effects by learning the course, by dressing for the weather, and by knowing your competition, but you can't change them.
In yesterday's post, I said, "The thing that's haunting me right now is the prospect of a radical weather change somewhere in the last 5 miles of Boston. The race booklet pointed out that an onshore breeze can mean a significant temperature drop virtually anywhere from Heartbreak Hill onward."
Mike Salkowski commented, "Remember what you told Duncan about not racing the clock when he was griping about the weather!" My comment to Duncan Larkin, prior to this year's Napa Marathon was intended to make him realize that no matter how crappy the conditions, his race was against the other competitors, NOT against the clock.
My immediate reaction was "the situations are completely different," but as I thought about it further, they're quite similar. Both require the recognition that self-doubt is an incredibly corrosive influence on racing and the elimination of that doubt through developing a plan that gives the athlete the confidence that they'll be able to handle the situation as it develops.
He's where being an old coot can come in handy. Back in the 1980's, I did a fair amount of cycling. I have a reasonable grasp on cycling history, and I realized that in cycling, I had the model for coping with this situation, should it develop. Imagine, if you will, riding up a mountain as part of the peloton in a cycling race. You're working hard to keep with your group, and even though it's only 55 degrees, you're sweating profusely as you grind up the last kilometers at 12 mph. As you crest the hill, you know that the sweat soaking your jersey is going to feel like you've just jumped into a cold pond as you suddenly accelerate to 50 mph as you begin your descent. The old-time bikies used to grab a newspaper from a spectator and shove it into their jersey where it functioned as a windbreaker. There's my plan! It's simple, and whether it proves to be a newspaper, a plastic bag or something else, I now know that I can cope with that situation, should it develop. The corrosive doubt is gone!
Whatever hand I'm dealt at Boston, I'm ready.
In yesterday's post, I said, "The thing that's haunting me right now is the prospect of a radical weather change somewhere in the last 5 miles of Boston. The race booklet pointed out that an onshore breeze can mean a significant temperature drop virtually anywhere from Heartbreak Hill onward."
Mike Salkowski commented, "Remember what you told Duncan about not racing the clock when he was griping about the weather!" My comment to Duncan Larkin, prior to this year's Napa Marathon was intended to make him realize that no matter how crappy the conditions, his race was against the other competitors, NOT against the clock.
My immediate reaction was "the situations are completely different," but as I thought about it further, they're quite similar. Both require the recognition that self-doubt is an incredibly corrosive influence on racing and the elimination of that doubt through developing a plan that gives the athlete the confidence that they'll be able to handle the situation as it develops.
He's where being an old coot can come in handy. Back in the 1980's, I did a fair amount of cycling. I have a reasonable grasp on cycling history, and I realized that in cycling, I had the model for coping with this situation, should it develop. Imagine, if you will, riding up a mountain as part of the peloton in a cycling race. You're working hard to keep with your group, and even though it's only 55 degrees, you're sweating profusely as you grind up the last kilometers at 12 mph. As you crest the hill, you know that the sweat soaking your jersey is going to feel like you've just jumped into a cold pond as you suddenly accelerate to 50 mph as you begin your descent. The old-time bikies used to grab a newspaper from a spectator and shove it into their jersey where it functioned as a windbreaker. There's my plan! It's simple, and whether it proves to be a newspaper, a plastic bag or something else, I now know that I can cope with that situation, should it develop. The corrosive doubt is gone!
Whatever hand I'm dealt at Boston, I'm ready.
posted by Scooter at 10:49 AM
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