Ipods in Races: Much Ado About Music

An article appeared on the front page of the Boston Globe today (it must be a slow news day) discussing the ongoing controversy of the ban on headphone use in USATF sanctioned races.

http://www.boston.com/news/globe/living/articles/2007/08/20/a_running_debate/

Should the governing body of the sport legislate your use of ipods and headphones, or should you have the right to listen to your tunes, as long as you are not bothering anyone? Is it an intrusion of your freedom to “run as you please,” or are you really a danger to yourself or others by wearing headphones at a race?

On the face of it, this seems like a rather silly issue, but it does raise one interesting point: why is it that some runners are so passionate about their ipods, while others are equally passionate about maintaining the “purity” of their running, eschewing this form of moving entertainment? Something as innocuous as listening to music would not seem to be enough to create a polarizing issue, but that is apparently the case.

I suppose it is just one of those things you are either into or you aren’t. Personally, I am a headphone person, although not in races. Sure, I like the pure feeling of running, but it does not have to be mutually exclusive from enjoying music at the same time, when I am cruising along at a moderate pace in training. I find the music especially helpful on wintertime treadmill runs, in which the tedium factor is greater than on outdoor jaunts.

Races however, are a different story, at least for me. The primary issue is that my focus is on competition, and any extraneous equipment, such as movable hardware and jiggling wires, is likely to just slow me down and distract me from the task at hand. I know ipods have become more sleek and economical in style lately, but still, I’d rather not have to deal with them in a race. When training alone however, the music (or even sports talk radio) can be a welcome companion to help pass the miles.

Is headphone use really a danger? The main concern is that of being able to properly hear the sounds of traffic and other people. Again, my personal experience is that I can almost always hear those around me, as well as oncoming cars. I tend to keep the volume moderate and the headphones loose, rather than plastered to my ears. I use the pads rather then the buds that stick all the way into the eardrums, an uncomfortable feeling.

A study was done a few years ago that indicated being motivated by one’s favorite music can result in improved performance. Perhaps this is true; if so, I say go for it. If you feel you need music to get you through a race, I have no problem with it. To my mind, USATF should be more concerned with performance enhancing drug use among its elite runners, which has severely damaged the reputation of the sport in recent years. That is truly an issue worth getting “tuned into.”

A Swim in the Atlantic Ocean: Not So Much Fun

There is no getting around the fact that in order to do the best you possibly can in a race, there must be a certain amount of suffering involved in training. Is suffering too strong a word? Then perhaps discomfort. You simply cannot push yourself for an extended period of time in a race if you never do so in training, despite what some so-called experts may suggest. In my younger days I certainly tried to push myself in training, feeling that the reward of a personal best or high placing in a race would be worth the temporary pain I was experiencing at the time. In his excellent book Bowerman: The Men of Oregon, author Kenny Moore quotes 1964 5,000-meter bronze medalist Bill Delllinger as saying, “After you are in decent shape, running is easy. Anyone can do that. It’s like brushing your teeth. But real training? That’s hard. It’s like getting your teeth cleaned at the dentist’s office.”

Now at age 51 and well past the age of personal bests, most of my training is done in the comfort zone. I do push myself on occasion, when I feel like challenging myself. Mostly that happens on bike rides and trail runs however, not in time trial road runs or on the track, as in the past. But I rarely undertake a workout from which I know going in I will derive little or no enjoyment. Life seems too short these days for that.

The other day however, I did one of those rare “dentist office” type workouts. I have decided to aim for a half ironman triathlon in early September, a race I did two years ago. I felt that completing a half ironman would be a good goal for this year. It will be my first since turning 50. The swim is held in the ocean, and being a firm believer in specificity of training, I knew I would have to venture into the chilly Atlantic Ocean at least once or twice before race day. As it is, I have hardly been swimming (just four swims in the past two months), thus it seemed even more imperative. But I knew it probably would not be much fun. Even in the hot and humid dog days of August, the ocean in Massachusetts is still plenty cold, the water temperature in the low to mid 60s.

Nonetheless, I put on my wetsuit (a very time and effort-consuming task in itself) and ventured into the water. At least the ocean was fairly calm, no ten-foot waves crashing onto shore. In fact, at low tide, I had to walk a good 50 yards off shore to find water deep enough in which to swim. The cold enveloped me right away, enough so my brain immediately said “Why don’t we do about five minutes and call it a day. At least you can say you got into the ocean.” But I put those thoughts aside and slowly swam in a southerly direction. The goal was to do at least 30 minutes, maybe 45 if I could stand it. The time seemed to go by ever-so-slowly, but I kept on slogging away. Even the small waves made negotiating the water a challenge however, lifting me up and dropping me on the other side, a disorienting feeling. A little past 20 minutes I turned around and exactly at 45 minutes I scurried out of the ocean, happy to embrace the muggy, humid air once again, peeling off my wetsuit as I went.

I don’t know how far I swam; surely not too far. But at least I got this necessary workout in the books. The water temperature in Rhode Island is likely (hopefully) to be a little warmer and more inviting than what I experienced during this swim, so that is a good thing. If only I could say the same thing about the dentist.

You Must Be Happy (Except for the Six Percent of You)

A new Harris Poll says 94 percent of American are satisfied with their lives.
To read the full report click here:

http://home.businesswire.com/portal/site/google/index.jsp?ndmViewId=news_view&newsId=20070814005102&newsLang=en

I'm sot sure what it all means, although I would wholeheartedly agree with the assessment that those on the East Coast are not quite as happy as those in other parts of the country. You Bostonians and New Yorkers know what I mean. It makes sense when you think about it: the more tightly confined your living space, the more you compete with others on the roads, at work, in play, and other areas of life, the higher likelihood that you will become irritated and angered more frequently.

On the bike trip across the USA I completed in the summer of '06, I saw graphic evidence of this. Out West, in the open plains and sparsely populated areas, people seemed quite friendly on the whole. Once we got close to the East Coast however, more anger surfaced. More drivers honked and swore at us in our one day in New Hampshire than on the other 49 days combined. It was crazy. We rode no differently that day than on any others.

Of course, this is a generalization There are plenty of very happy and friendly people on the East Coast. You just have to look a little harder to find them.

My Most Recent Race: The Skyline Trail 7 Mile, Milton, MA, July 8

At the top of the first climb, already out of breath!

The Blue Hills, situated south of Boston, is the setting for almost all of my trail running, at least in training. I usually get out there at least once a week, perhaps twice if I am lucky and/or training for an upcoming trail race. Thus, you would think I would regularly run the Skyline Trail 7 Mile Race, held each July at the Blue Hills, run on the very trails on which I regularly train. The reality is that for one reason or another (schedule conflicts, injury, not in trail running shape), I have never been able to make it to the starting line, until this year.

The Skyline Trail consists of steep, rocky, rooty terrain, up and over the spine of the modest peaks that constitute the range. Although the climbs are not long, they are steep, they are rocky, and they are relentless. Add a humid day with temperatures in the upper 80s, and you have the makings of a challenging race.

Should I have had an advantage in knowing the trails and how tough they were? I think so. From overhearing some of the conversations among the 75 runners on hand, many did not know the difficulty of the course that lay ahead. Right at the start we encountered a nasty two-thirds of a mile scramble up to the weather station, followed by a plunge straight down the other side to the Hillside Avenue road crossing. Most of the remainder of the race was a repeat of that layout.

I fell back into the pack despite going anaerobic on the initial climb. Since I am much better at downhills than the climbs, I tried to hold my place on the ups and then really let it go on the descents. The problem was getting past the other runners on the narrow trails. It seemed to make little sense to pass a runner on a descent, only to have he or she (mostly hes) go right by again on the following uphill climb. Eventually I found a rythym that worked.

At the halfway I turnaround I was amazed at how much more quickly I was covering the ground than I do in training. I thought a time close to 90 minutes would be a good result, given that it takes me 15 to 20 minutes longer in training to do this distance, even on a cool day. But I was ahead of even that optimistic goal as we headed for home. Jockeying back and forth between a group of other runners, my goal was to beat as many of them as I could. Eventually, I put all but two behind me, one of whom pulled way ahead. Back at the weather station, all we had left was a straight shot down the ski slope to the finish. As I edged up to my last, lone competitor, steeling myself for a sprint down the mountain, he said, "You go ahead; no way am I running hard down that."

I was disappointed and relieved at the same time, although I still pushed hard down the ski slope. I had not looked at my watch, reluctant to see if I was close to going over 90 minutes. As it turned out, I crossed the line just as the clock turned over 1:26. That was good enough for 24th place overall and third in the 50 and over category, although it netted no prize in this low key event. The winning time was a scalding 1:05 by national-class trail runner Ben Nephew. As we sat around after the race, everyone seemed happy that the race was done by late morning, as the temperature had soared past 90.

So I finally had the chance to run a race on "home" training ground. Maybe next year I can break 1:25 and perhaps even win the 50 and over division. In any case, watch out! I'll be one of the runners bombing down the descents.

The Running Ethicist: When an Ongoing Race is Cancelled

The Setting


There was a 24-hour race held recently, with both a relay and open division. It started on Friday night at about 7:00 p.m. to run until Saturday night at 7:00 p.m.

As a few friends were running in the open division, I stopped by at about 10:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.

I met a friend in the race and walked and jogged alongside for a little while. I was on my second five-km lap with him at about noon when the skies darkened and it started to rain a little. No big deal.

Or so I thought. A woman came driving around the course and said, "We are calling the race; you can have a ride back to the start if you like." I though she was joking. There was no sign of any lightning or thunder. Then someone else in another car repeated the same thing.

We got back to the start/finish area and a lot of participants, both relay and individual, had already left. The organizers were furiously packing things up into cars and trucks.

No one seemed to be complaining too much, but I was incredulous. The weather did not seem anywhere severe enough to cancel the race. It seemed to me they could have advised people to be careful, or at worst make people wait for a few minutes while the impending storm passed through. After all, the runners had invested nearly 18 hours into the event by that point, not to mention the training, the travel time and attendant costs, not to mention the $80 entry fee.

I remained at the race site with a few others. We sat under a tent and watched the rain and chatted for a while. After a bit, the rain stopped and the sun came out. By that time everyone was gone, and it was only 1:30 p.m.. There was supposed to be 5 1/2 hours left in the race! The sun was out for most of the rest of the day.

The Questions

Were the race organizers within their rights to cancel the event? Should the participants have had a say in whether this race were allowed to continue? Did signing the race entry waiver exempt the race organizers from any laibility issues that may have arisen from potentially bad weather? Should race entrants have received refunds of their entry fees? Or do particiopants completely turn over all rights when they sign up for an event? Share your thoughts with the running ethicist.

The Eastern States 20 Mile

The Eastern States 20 Mile, an event I direct, is a running race from Kittery, Maine to Salisbury, Massachuseets along the scenic New Hampshire Seaocast. Now in its 13th year, we typically attract more than 700 runners from all over New England. There is also a concurrent half marathon that covers the final 13 miles of the 20-mile route. The race is typically held on the last Sunday in March, three weeks and a day before the Boston Marathon. Many runners use the race as a final long training before Boston. For more information, visit

http://www.easternstates20mile.com/

The Breakers Marathon, Newport, Rhode Island, Saturday, October 20, 2007

As the co race-director of the Breakers Marathon, I invite you to have a look at the race if you are planning a fall 26-miler in New England. The race will start in downtown Newport and traverse the scenic oceanside roads around Brenton Point and by the world-famous mansions. After a big loop through rural Middletown, the race will finish at Easton's Beach in Newport.

This is the third year of the event, and it has grown by leaps and bounds. We expect this to be the best year yet. It's the only marathon in the state of Rhode Island! For more details and to register, go to http://www.breakersmarathon.org/

Greetings Readers!

Thanks very much for dropping by to have a look at my blog. This will be a multi-purpose page, including information on upcoming events I organize and direct, collection of stories and articles I have written, as well as my opinions on various and sundry topics.

Among other things, I direct the Breakers Marathon in Newport, Rhode Island, held in October, (http://www.breakersmarathon.org/) and the Eastern States 20 Mile, from Maine to Massachusetts along the New Hampshire Seacoast in late March (http://www.eaternstates20mile.com/)


The world of running and endurance sports has changed dramatically since I first got started running in the mid 1970s. The goal of almost every runner I knew then was to run the Boston Marathon; it was a difficult goal to achieve. The time to run for men was three hours or better, and a few years later that time was reduced to 2:50, given the huge numbers of runners who were willing and able to break three hours.

Not surprisingly, training knowledge was somewhat limited, and most that did exist was geared toward elite runners. After all, why not try to emulate the best? If Bill Rodgers ran more than 100 miles per week, than that must be the best way to train, right? Remarkably, many us employed that training methodology and remained in once piece; and in fact, thrived on it. During that era I ran dozens of marathons, including 27 in under three hours, with a personal best of 2:35:30 in the 1988 Boston Marathon.

Since then, like many others, I have slowed down quite a bit, but still try to set goals that will keep me motivated. Last summer I cycled across the USA, 3,700 miles in 50 days, from Astoria, Oregon to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. An account of that trip can be found at www.ultrarunning.com/baa

I am also the former publisher of UltraRunning Magazine (http://www.ultrarunning.com/), from June, 2000 until July, 2007. In additon, I am one of the original owners of the web site http://www.coolrunning.com/. I also published the book "A Step Beyond: A Definitive Guide to Ultrarunning (at http://www.ultrarunning.com/)

Thanks again for stopping by!

Don