Adventure and Competence

Roni Horn once told me
that one of the Antarctic explorers said
To be having an adventure

is a sign of incompetence.
When I am feeling
at my most incompetent
as i do in Stykkisholmur
many a dark morning
walking into the wind

I try to conjure in mind
something that is the opposite of incompetence.
For example the egg.

This perfect form.
perfect content.
Perfect food.

In your dreams
said a more recent explorer (Anna Freud)
you can have your eggs cooked as perfectly as you want

but you cannot eat them.
Sometimes at night
when I can't sleep

because of the wind
I go and stand
in the library of glaciers.

I stand in another world.
Not the past not the future.
Not paradise not reality not

a dream.
An other competence.
Wild and constant.

From 'Wildly Constant' by Anne Carson.

There are differing meanings for the word adventure. I use it fairly loosely to describe a long run, cycle, or hike, or even just putting myself in a slightly challenging environment. Mostly my adventures are mild and the risk of serious danger is limited. However for an Antarctic explorer an adventure is something life threatening , something where the deepest reserves of energy and courage have to be summoned just to reach safety. I lack the courage or faith in my own resources to do things that are extreme, however I am prone to incompetence and that can expose me a bit more than is absolutely necessary.

When I read this poem I think back to a cycle journey my friend and I took along the Ridgeway. It was planned as a full day's ride, a loop including Wantage and Avebury. Something not too extreme except… Except that we decided to do it in February, when days are short and the weather is not the finest, and we set out late so we had too few hours of daylight. Such simple, basic, bad planning.

Nevertheless the first part of the ride was fun, the scenery was good and we had hopes that the challenge could be character building. But as the day wore on the wind blew harder and it took all our strength just to keep moving forward. At the top of Barbury castle our strength was sapped but no worries it was mostly downhill to Avebury but instead of getting there for lunch, it was mid afternoon and we knew we were going to struggle to get back in time. We tried to hurry as much as possible but our legs were not fresh and anyway off-road cycling is comparatively slow. Gradually the night drew in and we could see less and less in front of our wheels, which slowed us down even more as we tried to pick a safe path amid slippery clay, lumpy chalk and deep ruts caused by 4x4s. Eventually we could see nothing - it was pitch dark, without even the moon, and we of course had no lights. We could cycle no further- there might be people who can bike over rough terrain guided only by extrasensory perception, but that was not us. We had to trudge back, pushing our bikes, walking in cleats, stumbling over the uneven land and not knowing where the hell we were and not being able to see where we were going. It was the longest 10 miles I have ever walked and when we arrived at the car we were both totally exhausted, completely weak and I have no idea how I drove home. Even now, many years later I can feel how tired and beaten I was that night.

(I can now use the memory when things get bad in long runs or a marathon. I just tell myself that if I could got back then I can surely finish now).

But when we planned our ride it was not meant to be like that, it was a good day out. "In your dreams you can have your eggs cooked as perfectly as you want but cannot eat them." That is the problem when I plan runs or rides I mostly dream. I imagine what things could or should be like, I create pictures and see myself striding out, but might just as well be floating on a cloud. I do not think about what happens when you push yourself. I do not feel the tiredness, the way muscles weaken, the body aches, and thinking slows down.

It can be good to ignore these things when planning, after all you want to focus on the life-enhancing and it is always comforting to imagine yourself as stronger and faster than you really are. But when you dream it is too easy to be too hopeful about your abilities and as a result find yourself in situations beyond your competence. Perhaps that is what the Antarctic explorer means by an adventure - something that leaves you exposed. 

When planning trips or races I want to do things that will extend me by degrees, push things but not break them, balance dreams with my abilities. I do not want to be exposed I want to find another world... an other competence, wild and constant. 

Vancouver Sun Run

The London marathon is not the only mass participation event in April. In Vancouver there is the world's largest 10k that attracts around 50,000 people. This year it took place on the 19th and not only did my sister's family take part, they excelled.

My sister finished in 51.46 and was 4864, my brother in law managed 45.22 and was 1573, my niece, on virtually no training, managed 59.35, and my brother-in-law's nephew, who doesn't run but lifts weights for exercise, finished in 1.13.43. Now I think all these results are brilliant and some become even better when adjusted for age (my sister finished 17th in her age group and my brother-in-law was 68th). However there is magic in round numbers and the target of breaking 50 minutes and 45 minutes was not quite achieved (in one case by only 23 seconds) so satisfaction was not complete. The quest has to go on and they are now looking for other races in which to break their barriers.

I am sure they will find the right race as they are very close to their targets, especially as it is difficult to run your best in a very crowded race. My biggest race was the Great North Run and my memory is of weaving around other runners, continually slowing down and speeding up so that it was very difficult to maintain a rhythm and build a race pace. I am sure a smaller race, with enough people for an atmosphere but clear space to run in, is a better bet for a PB.

P.S. A list of the largest races is here. In 2008, the Vancouver Sun Run wass 4th, the Great North Run 10th and London was 12th. It will be interesting to see how the economic crash will effect the numbers in 2009. We might run more because it is a relatively cheap and can help us forget about problems but we might enter fewer races because of the cost. Who knows.

P.P.S. I like the names people invent for races and am particularly taken by the Lilac Bloomsday Run. Now I love any run which gives a hat tip to the wanderings of Leopold Bloom but it is run in May when the official Bloomsday is 16th June. I'm sure there must be some good reason for the discrepancy but I have no idea what it is.

Blossom, Sheep and Being Back Outside

Sometimes writing these posts clarifies my mind. When I wrote about the gym being a fitness factory with an ethos of targets and attainments i.e. being like work, I realised how strongly I believe that treating exercise as an end in itself is wrong. It isn’t. It is a gateway to other deeper, more satisfying pleasures.

I do not run to get fit. I run because it opens my eyes, helps me think more clearly, enhances my sense of self and gives me a feeling of (quite unwarranted) satisfaction. Being fitter helps me run better and is therefore desirable but it is only a part of the experience. The ultimate aim is to unite physicality with imagination (without trying to sound too poncey and pretentious).

A lot of the time this does not happen because either one of the mind, body or surroundings is wrong. But sometimes it all comes together and it makes me feel like a new person (and believe me feeling like a new person is something I really appreciate). Knowing these moments happen keeps me going through the duller times.

Trying to rehabilitate an injury in a gym is one of those duller times and writing about it made me realise that spending too much time thinking about the state of my leg is one of the more futile uses of the brain. The body might be OK with endless indoor rehearsals but the mind will only be satisfied when it is outside, feeling the air, sensing the space, and looking around at the changing landscape. Only outside is there is a chance of rediscovering that feeling of connection, especially at this time of year when things change from day to day. Blossom comes and is then blown away, lambs grow at incredible speed and the trees become full and there are different shades of green.

I am not too bothered about how fast I am running or how far I go. I just happy that I am easing myself back and can bookend this post with two pictures from my last run

Still at the Gym

It is strange not to be running outside and restricting myself to maintenance runs on the treadmill. It seems more like work i.e. having the objective and carrying out a plan in a prescribed manner rather than an act of enjoyment (gyms are, after all, fitness factories). But it is not all joyless:

Any exercise makes me feel better. If I don’t do something to raise my heart rate and pump blood around the body, my mind tends to get sluggish and muzzy.
There is satisfaction to be had from the quantification of effort – i.e. know you are maintaining a steady, known speed for set amount of time. (When I run outside my speed tends to go up and down quite a bit).

It is easy to gradually vary the effort of each session, either speed or time, and set yourself little challenges – much more easily than outdoors.

However the major benefit is the result of a treadmill’s major disadvantage. It is dull and time passes more slowly so you have to work harder on strategies to keep yourself going. It is mental training, which I hope makes me stronger

The other good thing is that you can people watch. I have written before about people with disabilities determinedly trying to improve -they always make me feel humble. But there are also other people who make me think about what I am doing.

Perhaps because I am fairly stiff, I am unduly impressed by those who are flexible but watching them reminds me that even if I have no natural aptitude it is an area I ought to work at. I am convinced that most of the injuries I have had have been the result of stiffness in my calves and hamstring and they have always happened after I have neglected my stretches for a period. For some reason I am better able to discipline myself to stretch properly at the gym than at home.

So there are advantages to gym sessions but they do not give me a feeling of deep enjoyment. That comes from being outside where there is fresher air and a sense of freedom. There is no sense of freedom in a gym – perhaps that is another way in which they are a bit like work.

The Mystery of a Grade 1 Injury

Mostly I think running is simple: out the door, run about a bit and then return. You can mix things up by going faster or slower, longer or shorter, but that is basically it. When things are going well (i.e. you are running comfortably and there is a feeling of progression) it is the most natural thing in the world. However it can become very confusing when a period of steady running is disrupted by an injury with no definite cause. You know there must be a cause because things do not happen without reason but sometimes it is difficult to identify any changes that would have made the difference. All the obvious suspects are lined up: worn out shoes; you went to long, too fast, the ground was too hard, soft, or uneven; your muscles were too stiff. But sometimes there is no obvious answer.

I hate it when I don’t really have a clue and all I know is the symptom. The injury might not be a big deal, it might be easily worked around, but the fact that something has mysteriously gone wrong really bugs me.

At the moment I have a grade 1 injury ( i.e. “an injury that causes pain after exercise and is often only felt some hours after exercise has ceased” , Noakes, Lore of Running, 4th ed 2001, p749). About an hour after my run my left foot becomes painful, especially the heel, and I can only hobble around. The following day it is usually back down to a residual tenderness that is not a problem. The injury happened out of nowhere but it has been like this for three weeks.

It is not bad and doesn't really get in the way, but my main concern is for it not to escalate up the scale to grade 2, 3 or 4. So at the moment I have put my running into a maintenance phase, where the objective is to not lose fitness, whilst trying to find out what is happening (and of course hoping it gets better). I have thus cut back on long runs (because the heel hurt more after a long run) and run mostly on a treadmill ,to reduce the impact. This of course coincides with the weather getting better and almost inviting you to get outside for a long run. Never mind I can get my outdoor fix by going for a cycle ride. There is always a way round things.

I have to remember that and not get too hung up on any particular plan. I have to adapt to what I can do and acknowledge there is a problem. This is in itself a departure from my normal practice of thinking there is nothing wrong, or it is only a twinge, or t will go away; followed by ‘ this just could not have happened’, ‘why me?’, and then beating my tiny fists on the ground in frustration.

I am determined not to become glum - not to worry about it too much. I am heartened by what I read in the ‘Lore of Running’ which says that “the athlete with a grade 1 injury does not have to be excessively concerned as long as it does not progress…Runners need not fear that a grade 1 injury that has existed for some time will suddenly deteriorate into a grade4.”

Also I rather like the paragraph at the end of the section about the grades of injury:

“The grade of the injury helps the doctor define each athlete’s pain or anxiety threshold. The athlete who seeks attention for an injury only when it reaches grade 4 clearly has a different anxiety threshold from that of an athlete who seeks urgent attention for a grade 1 injury. Obviously the advice given for each type will also differ greatly: a runner with a grade 1 injury requires substantial psychological support; a runner with a grade 4 injury requires psychological analysis of why running is so important that the athlete will only stop when forced to do so.”

I will immediately search for some psychological support – or failing that some chocolate.

This week I learnt to tie my shoe laces

No it is true.

In my sad little way I was really quite chuffed to learn a new and better way to tie my laces. My family, of course mocked. ‘Well I could tie my laces when I went to primary school!’ or ‘ you just have too much time on your hands!’ or ‘brilliant another useless solution to a non-existent problem!’. Well let them mock. There is still pleasure in breaking a habit and doing something in a slightly different way and even if the problem solved is microscopically small, it is still a problem solved.

Like most kids I learnt to tie my laces before I went to school and have been using the same method ever since. When I tie my trainers I want to be sure they do not come undone so I cludge it with a messy double knot, which works fine. The laces stay tied but they do not come undone with a simple pull of one lace – you have to untie the knot. Mostly not a problem except that at the end of a race my fingers seem to be uncoordinated and freeing up the Champion Chip takes longer than it should.

The solution is this secure knot. It really works. The trainers feel nice and snug throughout the run but when I get home I only have to tug one end and they untie. A very tiny thing is done ever so slightly better.

This may seem like an April Fools post but it is not. I leave those to the Guardian, who do them better than most. This year’s is particularly good. It may not be as elaborate as Sans Serif or as horribly plausible as the EU directive on decimalising time but it has some funny news items as Tweets. I particularly like "JFK assassin8d @ Dallas, def. heard second gunshot from grassy knoll WTF?”.