Today, I introduce a guest blogger. Bob Schwartz has authored the book "I Run, Therefore I Am – NUTS!” which I know is a subject that we all can relate to! He has a new book coming out this year, but until thats out, you can certainly enjoy his humor at his new blog called Running Laughs. He really does hope that more people than just his wife know that it exists, so check it out! And now...onto Bob...and an excerpt from his new book below.
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One of the differences between running and many other sports is its individualistic nature. How successfully you perform depends on you alone, and how hard you’re willing to go outside of your comfort zone is self-regulated. Our internal voice tells us when to push it harder, and sometimes an undermining voice arises and tells us to go back to sleep when the alarm clock goes off or to cut a run short. My internal voice often employs reverse psychology by appealing to my nuts running gene and asking, “What would a sane person do?”
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I certainly welcome all the magic that running watches can provide. However, there’s one addition I can do without. Most of us don’t have a reality show with a personal trainer shouting words of encouragement. Nor do we have, on a daily basis, race spectators shouting phrases like “You’re looking good.” But now we can. Sort of. Running watches have come along containing messages that attempt to put us on a pedestal after our runs. The wizards of watch technology offer words of praise like “Atta boy,” or “Job well done,” or “Way to go.” I recognize that some runners enjoy those accolades from their wrist. Personally, I’m leaning toward the opinion that if I need compliments from a chronometer or tributes from my timepiece, well, I may have other issues.
Does any other aspect of my life provide unsolicited words of praise? Heck, no. What’s next? My computer saying, “Nice sentence, Bob! Way to string those humorous metaphors. You da man, Shakespeare!” Or does my car tell me, “That was a heck of a parallel parking job! Nobody does that better than you.” I can’t imagine my stove top saying, “Nice omelet flip there, Chef Incredible! And the coffee this morning smelled divine.”
The last things I’m looking for after a particularly bad run are flattering yet fallacious words, which are about as welcome at that point as learning a course was mismeasured after you’d set a PR. It’s like the queen and her mirror in Snow White:
“My watch, my watch, on my hand. Who’s the fastest in the land?”
“You, my runner, are fastest of them all.”
I wouldn’t bet on it.
What I need are the words of legendary coach Bill Bowerman when my alarm clock goes off as a chilly rain pounds on my roof and I contemplate going back to sleep. I could use a bright flashing neon sign plastered across my bedroom ceiling with Bill’s words “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.” And feel free to toss in for good measure “So get your lazy hiney out of bed there you weak little man. Now!”
What I could also use before a race is to glance down at my watch to see words of wisdom from Steve Prefontaine. Such as “I run to see who has the most guts, who can punish himself into exhausting pace, and then at the end, punish himself even more. Somebody may beat me, but they are going to have to bleed to do it.” That’ll get my heart pumping. I don’t need flattering bouquets like “I just love the way your singlet matches your shorts.”
Feel free to give me a watch that will tell me after a run, “That wasn’t good enough, twinkle toes. Better be ready to push it tomorrow!” It was Prefontaine who also said, “You cannot propel yourself forward by patting yourself on the back.”
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