Racing?
One of the bulletin boards I frequent has a discussion going on about racing and how it's changed over the years. While that discussion centers on the marathon, the basics apply to all distances.
The crux of the discussion is this: If you run in a race for pleasure, at a pace that you don't find challenging, have you raced? This is more than an argument about semantics, rather it's, in many ways, a discussion of the non-competitive environment that seems to be permeating our culture.
What is the point of a race? Is it to see how fast you can get from point A to point B on a given day? I'd say the answer is yes. Is it to challenge yourself? Again, yes. Is it to mark off another box on life's checklist, with a minimum of commitment? I'd hope not. Does that last sentence mean that I condemn first-time marathoners whose only goal is to finish? Maybe.
One of the things that has happened to racing is that many races have become events. This tends to mean more amenities for runners, but it often comes with a price. As a long-time runner, I have more t-shirts than I know what to do with, so for me, running a race that doesn't give out a shirt is no big deal. The only time I really care about getting a shirt is when it's a technical fabric shirt (yes, they really are better). Yet, I know that for many people, that shirt matters. It's a badge of having done something physical, and in today's over-vehicled world, I have a hard time arguing with something that makes people active.
Some people, who I will identify as "joggers", run regularly to improve or maintain their health. They don't train for running performance, but they are in shape, and, hopefully, strive to perform better on race day than on an average day. Others aren't active throughout the year, and they run the local race in town because of a desire to be seen there or to participate in a local activity. I'll refer to these as "social runners." Along with these groups, there are the "racers." Some of the racers are names you know, they get called up for trophies at the end of the race and show up in the results published in the local paper. There is another group of racers, they challenge themselves to run faster than last month or last year, or to go further than they ever have. They toil in obscurity, doing every bit as much work as those who make the results, but due to lesser genetics or the ravages of age or illness receive little or no recognition for their efforts. Now that I've categorized the runners, we can look at why I have an issue with some of them.
Here's why I have an issue with those who run a race socially, especially with those who do it only once or twice a year - they aren't committed to running for any good reason. They're out there because it has social value. Many of them don't make an effort to maintain their health, in fact, because of this, they are at greater risk when they show up at a race. They don't care about improving their performance. While it can be argued that those who race do too much to achieve optimum health, in trying to achieve good performance, they will do a reasonable job of managing their weight and many other health risk factors because they will impact negatively on performance.
In the end, a race is just that, a race. I can easily forgive poor training. I have no issue with those who have incapacities. My issue is with those who don't try to do more than just jog through the race. The only exceptions I make to this is for those who run to support another racer or for racers who want to participate, but whose training plan proscribes racing at that time. Race the race, don't just jog it. I can't judge if you're trying, (well, I can look at you as you run and make a fairly educated guess), only you really know. Do you race your races?
The crux of the discussion is this: If you run in a race for pleasure, at a pace that you don't find challenging, have you raced? This is more than an argument about semantics, rather it's, in many ways, a discussion of the non-competitive environment that seems to be permeating our culture.
What is the point of a race? Is it to see how fast you can get from point A to point B on a given day? I'd say the answer is yes. Is it to challenge yourself? Again, yes. Is it to mark off another box on life's checklist, with a minimum of commitment? I'd hope not. Does that last sentence mean that I condemn first-time marathoners whose only goal is to finish? Maybe.
One of the things that has happened to racing is that many races have become events. This tends to mean more amenities for runners, but it often comes with a price. As a long-time runner, I have more t-shirts than I know what to do with, so for me, running a race that doesn't give out a shirt is no big deal. The only time I really care about getting a shirt is when it's a technical fabric shirt (yes, they really are better). Yet, I know that for many people, that shirt matters. It's a badge of having done something physical, and in today's over-vehicled world, I have a hard time arguing with something that makes people active.
Some people, who I will identify as "joggers", run regularly to improve or maintain their health. They don't train for running performance, but they are in shape, and, hopefully, strive to perform better on race day than on an average day. Others aren't active throughout the year, and they run the local race in town because of a desire to be seen there or to participate in a local activity. I'll refer to these as "social runners." Along with these groups, there are the "racers." Some of the racers are names you know, they get called up for trophies at the end of the race and show up in the results published in the local paper. There is another group of racers, they challenge themselves to run faster than last month or last year, or to go further than they ever have. They toil in obscurity, doing every bit as much work as those who make the results, but due to lesser genetics or the ravages of age or illness receive little or no recognition for their efforts. Now that I've categorized the runners, we can look at why I have an issue with some of them.
Here's why I have an issue with those who run a race socially, especially with those who do it only once or twice a year - they aren't committed to running for any good reason. They're out there because it has social value. Many of them don't make an effort to maintain their health, in fact, because of this, they are at greater risk when they show up at a race. They don't care about improving their performance. While it can be argued that those who race do too much to achieve optimum health, in trying to achieve good performance, they will do a reasonable job of managing their weight and many other health risk factors because they will impact negatively on performance.
In the end, a race is just that, a race. I can easily forgive poor training. I have no issue with those who have incapacities. My issue is with those who don't try to do more than just jog through the race. The only exceptions I make to this is for those who run to support another racer or for racers who want to participate, but whose training plan proscribes racing at that time. Race the race, don't just jog it. I can't judge if you're trying, (well, I can look at you as you run and make a fairly educated guess), only you really know. Do you race your races?
posted by Scooter at 11:09 AM
3 Comments:
I say it's semantics. My view is that there are "racers" and there are "participants", and most people, if challenged, would probably sort themselves correctly into one of the two categories.
People sandbagging or dogging it through a race don't bother me in the least. I line up in front of them, and grab a banana and bagel and the end before they stuff 5 of each into their fanny packs. Anything that gets people off the couch is good by me, as long as they don't impede the progress of others en route.
What bothers me is when people are forced into that "participant" category by their own asinine training strategies (or their unwillingness to do the work), then complain without end about their result. I feel your preparation honors the race as much or more than your effort after the gun sounds. I guess it's a journey/destination thing with me.
I'm usually just a participant, and I'm okay with that. I don't "race" but I don't lollygag either.
hmm..interesting to say the least and probably sparked by Slates column last week about the masses and marathons.
i started running almost a year ago and yes my goal is to get better with each race for a specified distance, but i dont kill myself mentally or physically to get it done or beat myself up if i dont.
i AM better than i was a year ago. just because i dont run sub 10's consecutively doesnt make me any less of a runner than someone else.
however...i do agree about the social runners, but most of them do it because of the cause it is supporting, such as cancer, diabetes or some other affliction. maybe they lost a parent, child, sibling or friend to that particular disease ya know...it does MEAN something to alot of those "social" runners as you call them.
i'm just sayin.
i've been reading your blog off and on for some time now but this topic just kinda got to me :O)
Post a Comment
<< Home