Excuses

"No one believes your excuses except for you."

What is the difference between an explanation and an excuse? The answer follows, but the question is enough to prompt thoughts of all the times you've opened up the good old, dog eared book of excuses to seemingly justify why something didn't go the way you had hoped or planned. Often it seems that the only person you're trying to satisfy is yourself.

Excuses are usually pulled out when a performance didn't meet the mark, standard or outcome that you hoped or expected it to...which perhaps also begs the question as to whose expectations you were trying to meet in the first place? Anyway, there are usually contributing reasons why people don't reach their goals, some of which are very valid, and some of which you have little control over. However, the way you deal with these reasons is the key to the difference between an explanation and an excuse.

An explanation is where you take ownership of the obstacles, understand and accept the impact they have - and your own role in the performance - and head to the drawing board to work out a way of working with - not against - the reason for a performance outcome, so that next time those barriers to a good result are broken down.

An excuse is where you blame anything and anyone - other than yourself - for why things didn't go right. You prefer to pass the buck and responsibility on so your conscience is clear, but you miss the chance for a reality check on the contributing factors to the performance you're giving excuses for.

The essence of the difference is our perspective and attitude towards the performance, and in particular our role in the outcome...and being honest about our actual capabilities.

Excuses are tiring to hear, negative, and add little value to understanding what actually happened. But taking ownership for your performance means there is no need for any excuses, and provide real feedback you can use as a positive input to preparation for your next performance. So get over your excuses because no one believe them except for you.

Fast as you can, or fast as you need

Here's a hypothetical to consider…you're in a race, at or near the lead - but off pace from a PB - and feeling confident that you've got the measure of the field to take out the win. Do you:
a) Go as fast as you can to gain as large winning buffer as possible?
b) Go only as fast as necessary to maintain a comfortable gap and ensure a win?
c) Get cocky and put on a "show" for the spectators?

I'm guessing your answer will be "it depends" because it depends on so many things, like how hard the course is, the length of race, how long will it take to recover…when is my next race, what are the rewards, what is at stake, motivation and more. At the end of the day they only hand out first prize to the first person across the line, so the consummate professional athlete might look to minimise risks and get the job done…albeit without much spark or pizzaz. It would be a little like watching Roger Federer toy with some hapless qualifier in the early rounds; dour but effective.

However, if I was watching from the sidelines the purist in me would love to see an athlete stretch themselves to demonstrate the range and extent of their capabilities and talent; to put on a show of relative excellence as they clear away from the field. It’s a show of quality rather than a cocky show-off, where spectators can watch, see and appreciate an athlete at the top of their game. Think of someone like the late Sammy Wanjiru clearing away from the field in the Beijing Olympics marathon – all class while going as fast as he can.

Therein lies the contrast between going as fast as your can, or as fast as you need…the scenario will usually dictate which course an athlete ultimately takes. There’s a lot more factors which might contribute to a performance decision which eventually plays out in front of the (paying) public…if not through tickets then through their support of sponsors being promoted by athletes.

The ability to be successful by only going as fast as you need is self-fulfilling…allowing athletes to race frequently, winning prizes and keeping their sponsor’s product(s) front and centre. These athletes learn the art and skill of self-preservation, and it’s all seemingly ideal until the athlete is shown up and put in a situation where they actually do need to go as fast as they can in order to be competitive, which at the very least upsets their routine and more likely is a wake-up call.

Only going as fast as you need can be somewhat of a comfort zone, where the only problem is that these athletes may not reach or achieve the full extent of their talent or abilities. It's a bit like someone who races consistently well but who misses the high peaks of an athlete who sacrifices some performance because of the bigger goal event - and performance - later on, when they do indeed need to race as fast as they can. It takes courage to plan long-term like this where the implied reason is the rewards (and stakes) of the goal event exceed the benefit of multiple "small time" successes.

Case in point is the IM circuit - and to an extent the ITU circuit however the World Championship Series has changed that - where there are literally dozens of IM races around the world...but only one that really counts...Kona. There are multiple athletes capable of winning multiple IM races each year - and some do - which, as mentioned, serves them well in a career as professional athletes who are maximising and protecting their earning capability. The IM circuit has really only become a rough / loose form guide for Kona because there are so many different place getters...some of whom may not even bother with Kona because they know that even to go as fast as they can won't be competitive.

But once you're in Kona racing as a pro, then there are a lot of athletes planning a race strategy to hopefully get them their best placing possible. All these athletes know that the most important time to be leading the race is in Alii Dve, which brings me to analysis of top-10 historical race split times. By analysis I'm not talking averages or standard deviations, but what it shows in terms of when it's most important to be fastest in the race, to go as fast as you can.

The swim is for ego and glamour. None of the top-10 ever fastest men's swim times ever finished in the top-10 overall, a bit like the fun runner who sprints at the start but fizzles by the first corner. The top-10 ever fastest women swim times does includes several top-10 overall finishers, but that is where it ends. The truism stands - you won't win an IM in the swim, but you can lose it.

Onto the bike and the top-10 ever fastest men does include some winners - and podium finishers - although not necessarily in the year they won or placed in the event. This bears out the pattern of uber-bikers trying to set up a winning lead off the bike, but who mostly failed. Notwithstanding that, the fastest bike riders does closely relate to top-10 overall place getters.

The top-10 ever women bike riders almost reads like a winner's roll-call, with only a few exceptions. That is, most of the women who rode top-10 ever bike splits also won the race reflecting a greater level of consistency across the race than the men achieve.

Then we get to the run, where another truism comes to the fore - especially for the men - that the ride is for show, and the run is for dough. Six of the top-10 ever men's run splits won the race. Women's run split patterns are similar but less decisively weighted in run split order. 5 of the top-10 ever women's run splits won the race.

The common element is that the run is no place to be holding back, where you need to go as fast as you can to close out the race.

Having written all this, I'm certainly not meaning to pass judgement on whether or why athletes might only go as fast as they need rather than as fast as they can, or if in fact this is the case. A win is a win, and in a world where you're only as good as your last race, a solid win ranks higher than a sparkle and pop poor result. And there will always be different opinions depending on the perspective you have of what is important. For me, I love witnessing the pursuit and execution of individual perfection, something that I associate with going as fast as you can.

What it's like being injured

Put your hand up if cannot think of anyone you know who doesn't currently have an injury. I bet there are no hands in the air...unfortunately sporting injuries are a fact of life. A further, revealing question would be to ask how long those people have been injured for - 1 week, 1 month, 3 months, 6 months or more? Unfortunately, endurance sports injuries have a habit of lasting for a while...overuse injuries which occur over an extended period of time can also tend take an extended period of time to recover.

Then you have athletes who are on the long-term injury list, especially including those who needed surgery to repair the damage done. Regrettably, I was recently one of those suckers having had surgery on my Achilles last June, although my good news story is that I just returned to running racing after exactly a 1 year gap...it wasn't meant to be that long...

This is an article about what is it like being on the long-term injury list - a story numerous other people could also tell - when the physical, mental and emotional demons take their toll on your very being. The experience tests your resolve, and teaches you more about the perspective of life and sport than any book. Inevitably, almost all sports injuries do recover and you do get back in the game more worldly than before, but in the meantime you'll feel like a black sheep in a white flock, and get sick of being asked about it.

Of course, all injuries are different and in my case I was fortunate to have a fairly clear, albeit extended, path to recovery. But for others the only thing worse than not knowing what an injury problem is, is not know how long it will take to recover and the rocky road you must traverse en route. There are multiple points of rock-bottom along the way, perhaps the worst being the news of how bad an injury actually is - the honest truth is often hard to hear, rarely more so when it relates to sport that is part of your life, and an extension of you.

When it comes to injuries, magical silver bullets are few and far between, mainly because there are rarely any quick fixes. Rest to an athlete is like a four-letter word to a saint - it doesn't fit well. When you don't have a timeline for recovery, it is the unknown and lost hope that wears you down. Sports people are generally optimistic by nature, always marking their calendars with upcoming events, but imagine having a blank calendar because you just don't when - or even if, in come cases - you'll be competing again. It sucks.

Athletes are not the only ones to suffer through injuries as those close by also cop the grumpiness...to put it mildly. Spouses, family members, friends, colleagues will all feel some brunt from the injury. When you're injured it's easy to feel that other people just don't get it, which in some cases is probably correct, however it is usually fair to say that whoever is injured loses a bit of perspective about the impact of it, after all, we're not talking life-and-death (I hope!!).

Unfortunately the emotional picture I'm painting is not all that rosy, which is the equal biggest issue along with the physical injury, because as I mentioned earlier one of the biggest lessons from being injured is revised perspective of life and sport. For most of us sport is a passion and an indulgence in an otherwise busy life. In a balanced life an injury would just represents a (temporary) re-balancing of the aspects of life so that it is still fulfilling and enjoyable. The worst thing is to wallow around in endless self-pity...you'll win no friends that way. You need to get over yourself and get on with life.

When you are on the injury list - short, medium or long-term - the best people to help are the ones who are already around you. Good friends prop you up and take your mind off your main problem. I found that putting my energy and support into their endeavours (via coaching) was returned through appreciation and mutual support for my return to activity. Staying involved with your sporting friends - rather than shrinking away - also gives them an insight into your situation. What comes around goes around, so remaining upbeat and optimistic is the best way to deal with what might otherwise be a crappy situation. It's all about perspective.

Suffice to say, no amount of karma - given or received - will necessarily improve your injury condition, but it surely helps to shift your focus until the time comes when you can actually get going again, no matter how small the baby steps are. Rejoice in what you can do, and be sensible...the best predictor of a future injury is a prior injury. Have some humility in that you're not bullet-proof and grateful to have another chance at your sport.

The road back is no less fraught with dangers than the injury path itself. Sometimes it feels like one-and-a-half-steps forward, one-step (or more) back. As long as you keep moving ahead then that is progress. The hardest part is realising that getting back to the fitness level you had before can reasonably take almost as long as the time you had on the side-lines, and not to fast track things because you've had a good day. Week by week your confidence will increase in line with your fitness, and be careful not to fall into old, bad habits which may have led to the injury in the first place. In fact, understanding why an injury occurred is as important as the recovery and re-hab process. I'd say that about 80-90% of injuries are due to mistakes in training of some form or nature.

When you finally line up again in a race, the feeling is like being a new kid at school - excitement, nervousness, anxiety and more. You kind of remember what is ahead and what it will feel like, but there's nothing like the first-hand experience again to shock you back into reality. But the overall feeling is immense joy and satisfaction; the happiness of being "back in the game".

Back in the game!!

When you don't do something for a long time you almost forget what it was like to do it, and wonder if you ever can / will be able to again. I've been in that situation for months post-Achilles operation, even while I've been back running for a while...I hadn't done a running race since 2nd May 2010 at the Puffing Billy Train Race, and the concept was feeling a little foreign.

So with the annual Puffing Billy Train Race being on again last Sunday, what better time to renew my acquaintance with racing than to do it...12 long months later. It certainly wasn't meant to be such a long gap, but it was, and it certainly refreshed my memory of how hard running races are, how much your legs can hurt afterwards...and how much I enjoy the whole experience. But gee, did my legs hurt on Monday and Tuesday...

I've done the Puffing Billy race about 5-6 times before last weekend and love it for the challenge of the course (it is hard), the concept of the race (against the train), the setting (in the Dandenong ranges), and the good times when friends also participate. Each of these things were to the fore on Sunday, which all made for a great day out.

This year we had 11 from our running group entered, with two teams being formed amongst them competing for bragging rights, plus some supporters (spouses) also heading up to cheer us on. Some of us were chasing PBs, some there for the first time, and some really wanted to beat the train which recorded a scorching time last year. Best of all is that everyone wore their "Love the Run" tops!!!

After a delay, an interview with Tony Abbott (visiting Melbourne for the weekend) and the train driver, the 3200 runners were sent on their way for the 13km from Belgrave to Emerald. The first km is mostly downhill, and fast, but then the road turns upwards, downwards and upwards - and onwards - in varying grades, for varying distances - it is a hard course to race on!!! Along the way the train crosses the running route four times, where runners must give way and thereby stopping momentum and slowing overall time.

As for me, well being 12 months short on racing form, and doing little in training to suggest good form, I started conservatively and used my knowledge of the course to (hopefully) measure out my effort across the full distance...which is easy to say!!! So the start felt quite good, especially down the hill, and still strong up the first hill from 1.5 - 2.5km. Then came a long, gradual downhill which feels great to be able to stride out and run smoothly with little effort - bliss!!!

As we approached the first crossing I could hear the train, then see the train coming alongside and couldn't believe it - the train NEVER goes this fast. I was in about 10th place and could see only the first two runners getting over the crossing before the train, which is unheard of. I came to a halt (costing about 10sec) with a group of others which bunched us up as we waited for the train to pass...which seemed to take forever. When we got going the field spread out again, and I settled into about 9-10th placing.

All the downhill makes for a fast first 5km (16:45min), which counts for little since right after 5km mark the route turns left onto a dirt road and upwards, starting out at about 4-5% but feels really hard. This is the hardest stretch of the course, 1.5km of gradually steeper dirt uphill. Even in slowing down I still caught a couple of place to about 6-7th place but with my legs really struggling...although apparently less than the guys I passed, I guess!!! Up to the top it barely levels out and one guy pulled away a little along the plateau before a steep downhill kick.

We crossed the train line twice more but without delay - the train was stopped, waiting at a station right alongside one of the crossings - and I ran steadily in about 7-8th place as the course went along the bitumen road for a couple of kms. The final crossing is just before the Emerald station, at the 10km mark (36:03min), and the road runs alongside the train track before crossing it, and as fate would have it the train drew up alongside as we headed towards the intersection...dammit. It was clear I wasn't going to get through and so along with 4 other guys we stopped, again, to let the train pass...this time for about 20sec.

The only good thing about the stop was seeing the train passengers and getting some cheers, including our group's supporters, which was nice.

The train slowly passed and yet we had to wait a little longer for the flashing lights to stop, then we were on our way for the final 3km to the finish. As if to torment us, the train waited at the station as we ran past, perhaps waiting to make a final sprint itself down to the finish...

Anyway, the 5 runners all ran on and once again spread out for the gradual downhill finish, filling places 5th to 9th. I came in at 8th placing just not having the leg speed to keep up with the faster guys, in a time of 46:22min. Pre-race I thought that top-10 and sub-46min would be a good day, so perhaps without the stops I would have achieved both goals...so in all, a pretty good return to racing.

But our running day wasn't over as 6 of us ran back to the start again, making it a good long run day, and fully deserving of a fantastic brunch at a cafe on the road back home. In our group three of us ran < 50mins, ahead of the train that did an even faster time than last year, in 50:32min. Some more details of our results are here, and photos are here.

The days after the race reminded me of the other parts of racing...sore legs!!! But it was a good kind of sore, and it felt good to be racing again and seeing there is good room for improvement as running continues on. So I think I can say that I'm "back in the game"!!!