Last year there was a great article in the Good Weekend magazine in The Age about a fellow who ran his first marathon. It was good because it was written from the perspective of someone who saw the marathon as being the next (big) challenge in his running journey, and documented his trials and tribulations along the way. Throughout the article he spoke to other marathon runners - some like him, others who've run dozens of them, and then a small number who run marathons to win. Steve Moneghetti was one of those people.
'Mona' made an interesting comment that once you've done your first marathon, then it's all about the time you run - your 'PB' (personal best) - which drives runners the world over when they line up at the start of their next marathon. See, a marathon time is a universal measure of ability which crosses all borders, languages, ages, nationality and more. Your marathon PB immediately 'pegs' you on a ranking ladder, whether you like it or not. Personally, I'm hoping to move my peg up a few notches this year...
I think Mona hit a key note with his comment, which draws the distinction between completing and competing...something that carries across between any entrant in any sporting event. Basically, are you there to simply complete the event, or are you there to compete?...against others and/or the clock.
Of course at the Olympics, athletes are there to compete for the glory of an Olympic Gold medal, not to mention football codes, cricket, tennis and so on. Some people literally live (and die) by the results of these contests, and multi-national corporations trade profits and losses on the outcomes. These are most definitely competitions between competitors.
At a different, more amateur level the suburbs are also full of competitors in contests like club championships through to the impromptu, ad hoc competitions with your mates to earn bragging rights. All that's really on the line here is pride and ego...but never doubt the power of those things to motivate individuals to excel and perform beyond their wildest dreams. These amateur competitors are the life blood of sport and promote not just a healthy lifestyle, but also a competitive desire to be the best we can be.
These are the kinds of people Mona was talking about, who line-up in a marathon not just for the challenge of finishing but also with an eye on the clock, their split-times during the event, heart rates, pace, and more. All the little things that will help them to record the best time they can. This doesn't even touch on the (often) meticulous preparation they go through with many taking an almost professional approach to an amateur pursuit. I can't laugh or ridicule this strategy since I do it also. What drives me is the desire to do the best I can, squeeze the greatest performance possible out of my body, and enjoy the journey.
But not all race fields are full of competitors, however, since there's millions of other, different motivations that inspire people to enter an event. For many the joy is in simply being part of the event and in finishing. Their actual time and placing is a by-line, and secondary to the camaraderie and festivities along the way. Training is just a little more low-key, but no less enjoyable than a race. Their goal is to complete and feel the genuine satisfaction that comes from that. If the amateur competitors are the life blood, then the "completers" are the personality of an event.
So a race is really a community in its own right. Different folks with different strokes. None more or less entitled or deserving than another. All starting at the same start, and finishing at the same finish line. Some completing, some competing. It's all good.
'Mona' made an interesting comment that once you've done your first marathon, then it's all about the time you run - your 'PB' (personal best) - which drives runners the world over when they line up at the start of their next marathon. See, a marathon time is a universal measure of ability which crosses all borders, languages, ages, nationality and more. Your marathon PB immediately 'pegs' you on a ranking ladder, whether you like it or not. Personally, I'm hoping to move my peg up a few notches this year...
I think Mona hit a key note with his comment, which draws the distinction between completing and competing...something that carries across between any entrant in any sporting event. Basically, are you there to simply complete the event, or are you there to compete?...against others and/or the clock.
Of course at the Olympics, athletes are there to compete for the glory of an Olympic Gold medal, not to mention football codes, cricket, tennis and so on. Some people literally live (and die) by the results of these contests, and multi-national corporations trade profits and losses on the outcomes. These are most definitely competitions between competitors.
At a different, more amateur level the suburbs are also full of competitors in contests like club championships through to the impromptu, ad hoc competitions with your mates to earn bragging rights. All that's really on the line here is pride and ego...but never doubt the power of those things to motivate individuals to excel and perform beyond their wildest dreams. These amateur competitors are the life blood of sport and promote not just a healthy lifestyle, but also a competitive desire to be the best we can be.
These are the kinds of people Mona was talking about, who line-up in a marathon not just for the challenge of finishing but also with an eye on the clock, their split-times during the event, heart rates, pace, and more. All the little things that will help them to record the best time they can. This doesn't even touch on the (often) meticulous preparation they go through with many taking an almost professional approach to an amateur pursuit. I can't laugh or ridicule this strategy since I do it also. What drives me is the desire to do the best I can, squeeze the greatest performance possible out of my body, and enjoy the journey.
But not all race fields are full of competitors, however, since there's millions of other, different motivations that inspire people to enter an event. For many the joy is in simply being part of the event and in finishing. Their actual time and placing is a by-line, and secondary to the camaraderie and festivities along the way. Training is just a little more low-key, but no less enjoyable than a race. Their goal is to complete and feel the genuine satisfaction that comes from that. If the amateur competitors are the life blood, then the "completers" are the personality of an event.
So a race is really a community in its own right. Different folks with different strokes. None more or less entitled or deserving than another. All starting at the same start, and finishing at the same finish line. Some completing, some competing. It's all good.
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