Positive Lessons From The Boston Marathon Bombings

The Boston Marathon bombing happened just a week before I ran the London marathon. I remember exactly where I was when I first heard about the bombing. From every comment on twitter to the Runner's World magazine special Boston edition I have followed every twist and turn of the story. 

When I'm not running I am a bit of a news junkie (it's my job) but the way I have been almost obsessed with this story has surprised me and taught me an important lesson.

Although the marathon bombing was terrible it is far from the worst terrorist attack in recent history. More deadly bombings occur in Afghanistan and Iraq regularly. I live in Britain which is far too familiar with terrorist atrocities with a history of terrorist attacks from the IRA to more recently the 7/7 bombings. And lastly my sister-in-law works for Amnesty International and so I am made aware of the deaths of innocent people across the world all the time. 

So why the obsession with the Boston Marathon?

The answer to that question highlights the lesson the Boston Marathon has taught me.

Similarity breeds sympathy.

The Boston Marathon bombing targeted runners and I am a runner. I feel an affinity to runners. When running in the park I often greet (or at least nod at) fellow runners - I don't greet all the dog walkers I pass. I look at the Boston bombing and think how I missed out on running that actual marathon by just 3 minutes (I was 3 minutes outside the qualifying time). I see the victims and wonder if that could have been me. I read all the articles and look at all the pictures of the aftermath of the bomb and my heart bleeds.

What my interest in the Boston marathon demonstrate is that the more points of similarity one can see with other people the more sympathy one feels. I like the fact that I feel connected to a larger running community and feel sympathy for my fellow runners. But I feel uncomfortable with the possibility that I care more about victims of a terrorist attack in America just because they like to run 26.2 miles than I do with victims of terrorist attacks elsewhere in the world.

If similarity breeds sympathy does that mean difference literally begets indifference?

Do I care less for people who look different to me? Who might speak a different language from me? Will I be less charitable to immigrants than I am to someone who has lived in my street all their life?

I'm not the first person to worry about this. In 2005 Prof. Mark Levine devised an experiment where a jogger pretends to fall and needs help. He conducted the experiments in Manchester. Half the time they put the runner in a Manchester United football shirt and the other half of the time he put the runner in a Liverpool football top. The results were striking. When the runner was wearing the "local" shirt he was helped 80% of the time, while pretending to be a Liverpool supporter he was helped only 40% per cent of the time.

Now I could be depressed about this but instead there is a very large silver-lining from the grey cloud that we feel more sympathy for people who we think are more similar to ourselves.

The silver-lining is it doesn't seem to take a lot to feel a sense of similarity with someone. And once we feel that connection all the differences don't seem to matter. 

The other part of Prof. Levine's experiment was to see if the runner was helped if they were wearing just a plain white "neutral" shirt. In the experiments they were helped marginally more than when he was wearing the rival Liverpool shirt. So the Manchester United shirt was all it took for bystanders to feel a connection. Just a shirt! 

I feel a real connection to other people if they are fellow runners but the great thing is I then feel connected to them regardless of any other differences we might have. I have sympathy with the victims of the Boston bombings regardless of their race, nationality or any other characteristic that we sometimes categorise people by.

The challenge that the Boston bombing has set me is not to worry about my possible lack of sympathy I might feel with people who are different from me but to find the one point of similarity I share with people who are less fortunate than myself - and there is always at least one point of similarity. So I'm off for a run now and who knows I might even wave at a dog walker - we must have something in common (maybe).

(The picture today is of shoes left in tribute to the victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. For some reason I find this far more moving than all the flower tributes I have seen)

Running and How To Win Friends & Influence People

Earlier this week I was fortunate to go on a three day work conference in Cyprus. The weather was amazing and Cyprus is an amazing place with its rich history and mixture of Greek and Turkish culture. I met some fascinating people who work in the same field I do from all over Europe and the whole experience was amazing.

As a runner though I learnt two things:

1.       Nicosia (the divided capital of Cyprus) has one of the best running routes I have ever had the pleasure of running.

I have run all over the world including Indonesia, Jamaica, France, Spain, America and even Brazil but the running in Nicosia was out of this world. Nicosia is built on the banks of the Pedieos River, if you are a runner on the south side of the “Green Line” then head to the river. On the east bank the authorities have built a beautiful path that is pure runner’s heaven that goes on for mile after glorious mile.

If you like to combine your holidays with a good run then Nicosia is the place for you.

2.       If you want to “win friends and influence people” put on a pair of running shoes.

One of the main points of these types of conferences is to network with people in your field from all over the world. I am atrocious at networking. I normally find the whole affair too contrived and artificial. You know I am talking to you because I think there might be a business opportunity for me in the future, I know you are talking to me because there might be something in it for you in the future. But we have to undergo this entire social dance which finishes in exchanging cards. I am also quite self-conscious and shy at these types of events as well, talking to strangers doesn’t come naturally to me.  

And so it was during one of these haltering networking conversations that I blurted out; “I see from your conference biography entry that you have two children and like to run – do you want to run with me?”

The next morning I was lacing up my trusty running shoes and going for a 10km run with one of the most influential people in my field in the UK. Conversation flowed naturally as we fell into step - as it always does for me when I am relaxed and running with someone – and it was the best 60 minutes of networking I can remember.

Later that day back at the conference word quickly spread about our run. Before I knew it I was organising a group run for the following morning. And so the next day I ran another 10km and networked all the way along the banks of the Pedieos River with a new group of people.

Only neither run felt like “networking” it was finding that common bond that only runners share. The funny thing is I even found it easier to talk to everyone back at the conference when I had changed out of my sweaty running gear.

So next time I have to go to a conference the first thing I will be packing is not my little business cards but my running shoes. The only thing is I am not so sure that strategy will work over a buffet lunch of some soggy sandwiches, which seems to be how most of the networking events I attend turn out.  

(The picture today is of the running path along the river in Nicosia)

Become A Better Runner By Losing

I recently went for a run with my sister-in-law, roughly about 10km from my brother’s front door, round the park and back again. I love the run because there’s a hill about a mile in which feels nice and relaxing as you run down it at the start but really pushes you at the end. I also love running with my sister-in-law because even though we get on most of the time we hardly talk but during the course of the run we had some great conversations. I think nothing beats a nice run in getting people to talk and getting to know each other.

One of the things we discussed were the last four races I have done this year (two marathons and two half marathons - well one was a 16 miler but what’s 2.8miles between friends?).

While I wittered on boring her talking about myself and the details of each race she said something that really struck a chord:

“The most important thing is that you learn something from each race”

In that moment I realised that I had always thought that the most important thing was running a Personal Best time (a PB). If I want to be the best runner I can be, PB’s are almost just icing on the running cake, just acknowledgements of how much I’ve improved. PB’s do not make you a great runner ironically they can even stop you from reaching your best.

In my half marathons and 16 mile race I ran PB’s and I think they actually stopped me from running faster marathons later on in the year. The reason being is that I felt so pleased with myself I just kept on doing the same training, I didn’t examine how I might change my training to improve. Success stopped me from properly learning from my races.

Not getting PB’s in my last two marathons has caused me to examine all of the marathons I have done in more detail. Going through my splits I discovered that despite all my training I have not improved the time for my last 8 miles irrespective of my time for the first 16 miles (fast or slow)! Just simply putting in the long runs on the weekend has not been bringing results. I’ve gone back to all my training manuals, online running message boards and now drawn up a new training schedule. (It basically involves slowly increasing my speed during my long runs so at the end I am running at my fastest).

The idea that failure is good for you is not a new one. Kenneth Ewart Boulding (1910 - 1993) was an economist and philosopher. He is famous, amongst other things, for his quote; “Nothing fails like success because we don’t learn from it. We learn only from failure”.

It’s a truth that even elite athletes regularly discover. Double Olympic gold medalist Mo’ Farrah became great through failure. He used to have a terrible sprint finish (when it comes to Mo’ I realise “terrible” is relative), he was losing important races at the end. As he pushed himself at the end his form would desert him with his arms flailing everywhere. His coaches realised that he lacked muscular strength and incorporated 3.5 hours of weight training into his weekly routine. The rest, as they say, is history.

So next time I don’t get the PB I have been training for I’ll try and remember Kenneth Ewart Boulding. The other lesson I have realised from all this is I should definitely go running with my sister-in-law more often.

Since writing this blog post I've been chatting to the Editor of one of my favourite Radio4 programmes "More Or Less" presented by Tim Harford. Tim Harford's book "Adapt" expands on the idea of success through failure of which I am sure I owe a subconscious debt to in writing this post - Thanks Tim!

(The picture today is of my sister-in-law and me after our run)

Run! Don't Think!!

I sometimes wonder if when it comes to running ignorance may well have been bliss.

A year ago I was preparing for my first marathon in Rio. I had no idea how hard it was going to be and so I had no idea what pace to run at.

In my training I didn’t really know if I was training hard or not. Whether I was going fast or slow. I knew I was putting in the miles as I'd found a beginner’s marathon training schedule  and it told me how many miles I had to run to be able to run 26.2 miles but it was completely agnostic about speed.

In Rio as I lined up for the marathon I started talking to the runner next to me and he asked me what time I was aiming for. I looked at him rather embarrassedly and told him I had no idea, I felt as if I was admitting that I really didn’t know what I was doing and almost had no place being there.

Not only did I not know my potential I also had no idea what a “good time” for a marathon was. 

And so when it came to the race I just ran.

In the end I completed the Rio marathon in 3 hours 18 minutes and I’ve subsequently found out it’s a pretty good time for a first marathon for someone the wrong side of 40. But I think I was able to achieve this because I was ignorant. In the last two miles when my body was aching I had no idea if I was making a good time or not, I just knew I had to push my body as hard as it could go.  

Since my first marathon I have run three more marathons and I’ve now consciously been aiming to run the marathon in under 3 hours ten minutes. I’ve come close running 3 hours 11 minutes but never under my goal.  

I now think the 3 hours 10 minute goal might be a mental block. If I'd known that 3 hours 20 minutes was a good marathon time before the Rio marathon would I have been able to run a sub 3 hour twenty marathon at first attempt?

People have sometimes called this the 'Bannister Effect'? Before 6 May 1954, it was thought 'impossible' to run a mile under four minutes. But Roger Bannister beat the 4 minute mile by 6 tenths of a second - he defied people's perceptions of the impossible.  In many ways the 4 minute mile was less a physical barrier and more a psychological one. The following year after Roger Bannister broke the psychological barrier 37 more runners broke the four-minute mile, and in the 12 months after that, another 300 did it. Today even school boys have broken the 4 minute barrier.

Running blogs and trainers often say that you should sometimes leave your watch at home when training and even racing. Our mental awareness, our perception of what we think is good, great or even impossible shapes our physical abilities. Roger Bannister reshaped the mental perceptions of at least 37 runners the year after his historic race which transformed their physical reality.

I am beginning to obsess over three hours ten minutes.

I just hope it does not become my "Bannister Effect".

Instead I think I should return to the way I was before the Rio marathon and realise that ignorance might be my best strategy to be the best runner I can become.

Run! Don't Think!!

(The picture today is of a kid I saw running as fast as he could on a beach in Brazil - I doubt he was suffering from the Bannister Effect)

Marathon Running, Time and the Small Matter of the Meaning of Life

On Sunday I ran the Edinburgh Marathon. It was my fourth marathon in less than a year and came just five weeks after the last marathon I ran - the London Marathon.

In truth I ran it because I was disappointed with the way I had run the London Marathon. In the London Marathon I had run far too fast at the beginning and had faded at the end. As one friend put it; “I went off like a hare and finished like a tortoise”. My thinking behind registering for the Edinburgh marathon just a month later was if you fall off a horse the best thing you can do is get back on it. I knew I could run far faster than I had run the London marathon and all I needed was another opportunity to prove it. Well that was the idea at least.

I ran a far more intelligent race at Edinburgh starting slowly and increasing my speed as I went. But I still slowed down over the last eight miles and my final time was even slower than my London marathon by 40 seconds.

Time gives marathon running meaning.

I finished the Edinburgh marathon in 3 hours, 14 minutes and 31 seconds. But it is the 40 seconds which make the difference between this being a worse marathon than the previous one. It is 3 minutes and 35 seconds which stopped it being my best marathon ever and I had four minutes of solace for it not being my worst ever marathon time.

Regardless how good you are as a runner; whether it is your first marathon or you are an elite Kenyan marathon athlete; time counts. The first time novice runner sometimes just say it’s just about finishing the marathon but that is not true. Almost anybody can complete 26.2 miles but not everyone can complete it in eight hours (normally the cut off time for most modern marathon races to be completed). Implicit in the novice’s idea of “just wanting to finish the marathon” is a sense of time.

But as well as looking at the seconds, minutes and hours maybe I should be looking at the weeks and years.

It was foolhardy to think I could run a personal best (PB) just five weeks after running a really tough marathon in London which really took it out of my body. But at 42 years old I don’t know how many PB’s I have left in me which is why I was desperate to run again, also at 42 my body also takes a longer time to recover. Like it or not marathon running reminds me that I am human and like all living things subject to decay and death - regardless how much I am often in denial about this.

The sense of meaning that time gives the marathon just brings into sharp focus how time gives all life meaning.

From my age in decades to the seconds I am trying to shave off my best marathon time. I think about my life in important moments that are too small to be captured even by seconds and years that just seem to slip through my fingers and I don’t even know where they went.

The Edinburgh marathon taught me an important lesson.

After the London marathon I thought I could just effortlessly erase my London marathon experience and supplant it with a faster better Edinburgh marathon time and experience. Instead I realise that marathons are such large events in anybody’s life and on anybody’s body that you can’t just pretend they didn’t happen.

Important events in our lives are the real measurement of time in our lives.

Marathon running is great because they take time and we are forced to live with their consequences for months and sometimes years - whether we like it or not.

I want to get a faster a better PB but what will make that PB amazing when I finally get it is that it took me time to achieve.

(The picture today is of my four marathon medals)

The Pain And Pleasure of Running

Running is different from almost any other sport I can think of.

It is the only sport that I can hate but gives me the most pleasure.

Unlike other popular sports like football or basketball or cricket there are times in every runner's life when we have to almost force ourselves to do do our sport. At least once a month I will know I have to go for a run and it is the last thing I want to do. I will go through periods when I will not like running but will push myself to go out and run. I don't think people who do other sports push themselves to do the sport they profess to love. I hasten to add I'm not talking about the 1% of elite athletes - I'm talking about the 99% of us who supposedly do sport for "fun".

I don't think there are any other sports where you could feasibly ask friends, family and colleagues for money to do the sport you supposedly enjoy. I feel no shame asking people to sponsor me to run a marathon, if someone asked me to sponsor them to play a game of football or shoot some hoops I would think they were mad!

It's an acknowledgement from our friends that distance running is tough, that often it isn't fun and it is a real challenge. It's an endeavour worthy of giving money to charity for.  

There is a section on the RunnersWorld.com website labelled "Motivation". As the name suggests it is there to try and motivate people to run when they would prefer not to go out for a run. Runner's World is possibly the largest, most popular running magazine and website in the world and I would assume that they wouldn't have this section unless it was really needed by  it's readers. It's readers are by definition people who have voluntarily taken up running and yet we still need help to fight the urge to give up.

In this way I think running exposes one of the great secrets of life: 

The greatest joy is often the sum of of great pain.

I love running precisely because I don't get pleasure from every step I take. But each painful step I take adds up to the greatest joy I can experience. If life was a mathematical equation two negatives really do add up to a positive, or in the case of a marathon several thousand negatives add up to one amazing positive.

It is one of life's strangest contradictions; Only pursuing pleasure makes our lives less pleasurable.

Avoiding hard work and pain lessens the joy that life gives us, yet we seem programmed to avoid pain wherever and whenever possible. Despite the popular hymn "comfort" may be the antithesis of "joy"!

There will still be mornings when I won't be able to push myself to out of bed to run the 10k I know my training schedule says I should run and I will enjoy the comfort of my warm duvet. There will definitely be days when I won't be able to stop myself eating the junk food I know I should avoid.

But what running has taught me is that comfort rarely brings joy and in the long run, (pun intended), only hard work and achievement bring ultimate pleasure.

(The picture today is of me in pain directly after I finished the London marathon)

Love And Running

I feel as if I am falling out of love with running.

It has been a month since I ran the London marathon and I didn’t really enjoy myself running that marathon. Despite training really hard I didn’t run a PB let alone the goal I had set myself of a sub three hour marathon. In training I don’t feel the joy of just letting my body stretch out and enjoy it. I used to love training with my wife – two hour runs of uninterrupted time together; no phone calls, no social media, no emails, no TV - just the two of us running together sometimes talking sometimes enjoying silence that only two runners or two people in love can. But as I've got more serious about my running we now train separately.

I remember when I first started running I read somewhere that it is better to not run so hard and enjoy it so you return the following day, as opposed to training as hard as you can, not enjoying the experience, and not coming back the next day. Good training and enjoyment are intrinsically linked.

My focus in training for the London marathon ignored the importance of pleasure. Getting faster and better was all that counted. Pleasure was no longer part of the equation. The PB and the finish time was the only thing that mattered. The ends justified the means. My running enjoyment was sacrificed on the altar of a sub three hour marathon.

You can’t keep doing what you don’t like. The ends not only do not justify the means (as the saying goes). If you do not enjoy the means you won’t even reach “the ends”. I did not achieve my sub three hour marathon and I’m not enjoying my running. I think the same is true for so many things in life. In work when I do something purely to achieve an end result I not only don't enjoy the process invariably I don't achieve the end goal.

I now realise that running 10 minute miles with my wife in training makes me a better runner than running seven minute miles by myself. Finishing a run with a smile is better than finishing my training thinking I am about to die (and often thinking death would be a small mercy).

This Sunday I am going to try and fall back in love with running. I am going to run the Edinburgh marathon. It is far too early since the London marathon to run a PB but it’s not too early to just run for fun. On Sunday I will soak up the atmosphere and first and foremost fall in love.

(The picture today is of possibly one of the races I enjoyed myself the most - the 16 mile Whole Foods Breakfast Run. Because 16 miles isn't a 'proper' distance, unlike a marathon, half marathon or 10k, I just ran for the love of it).