Miles Davis And The Secret Of Great Marathon Running

  

If Miles Davis had been a runner I think he would have run marathons.

It is 16 days to go until the London Marathon and I am trying to put into practice what Miles Davis realised was possibly the secret of great jazz. Miles Davis famously described the most important part of his solos as the empty space between notes, the “air” that he placed between one note and the next.

When training for the marathon runners invariably talk about all the hours they have run and the miles they have clocked up in training for the big day, but just as important is how much they have not run. Anybody can run themselves into the ground just as any competent jazz musician can play all the notes their instrument can produce. But a great marathon runner knows when not to run, just as Miles Davis knew great jazz came out of when not to play. 

 

In his book “Running With The Kenyans” Adharanand Finn sets out to try and discover the secret(s) to Kenyans success at distance running. He comes up with several theories but one of the most convincing seems to be that Kenyan runners sleep a lot – over twelve hours a day. They train between the empty spaces between the runs just as Miles Davis played the “air”. 

In trying to uncover the secret of amazing running Adharanand had rediscovered a simple truth about all great art, and if you have seen a Kenyan professional runner run it’s hard to argue it’s not art. Great art is just as much what isn’t there as much as what is there. Picasso said the critical aspect of his work, was not the objects he painted themselves, but the space between objects. And Debussy more than a hundred years ago said “music is the spaces between the notes”.

The significance of not running becomes even more important in the last few days and weeks before a marathon when marathon runners start their “taper”. Tapering is when you start to drastically cut the amount of running you do in training in order to rest your muscles so they can be at their strongest on the day of the race. Rest too much or start your taper too early and you can lose the edge and speed you have been training so long to achieve. Start the taper too late and your muscles will still be tired when you line up for the start of the marathon. 

 

I started my taper for the London marathon today resting on what would normally be a 10k run this morning. And as I walked to work I listened to Miles Davis on my MP3 player listening to the spaces between the notes and hearing my taper throughout the music. 

I may never be a great runner like the Kenyans or produce timeless art such as Miles Davis but I'm learning the importance of "doing nothing".  

The picture today is of the album cover for Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue possibly one of the best examples of how he played the “air” between the notes.

"Sponsor Me" the two hardest words

 

The London Marathon is less than three weeks away and after all the training here comes the difficult part:

Asking for sponsorship money.

In the last two weeks I have really upped my marathon training.

On a Monday I do speed interval work alternating between fast and slow running clocking 15kms in an hour.

On a Tuesday I do sprint hill training (for just half an hour) along with stretches.

On Wednesdays I run a half marathon

On Thursdays I do the sprint hill training again

On a Friday I go back to my 15kms of speed interval work

On a Saturday I do a long trail run of about 20 miles

And on a Sunday I rest.

For most normal people this would sound a bit excessive to say the least and non-runners I’ve spoken to seem to think this all sounds a bit too much like hard work. But I’ve built up to this routine slowly and even though it can be hard to get out of bed on a cold morning I don’t find it that difficult.

What I find difficult is asking people for money. I’m running the London marathon for a small charity called the Jack and Ada Beattie Foundation. They are a small charity that gives out grants to people in crisis or real need (you can check out the work they do here http://www.beattiefoundation.com/ ). I’ve known that I’ve been running for a little while now but I have kept putting off asking people to sponsor me.

I’m not sure why I hate asking people to sponsor me so much. Maybe it’s because I don’t like asking people for favours or I don’t like imposing on people. Whatever it is I find running 40 to 50 miles a week easier than sending out a simple email.

However now I have sent out the email to friends and family asking for sponsorship I have found people’s response really positive. And it even motivates me more to train even harder knowing that I am doing it for a good cause and that other people want me to succeed.

I just wish I had asked for people’s money earlier.

(The picture today is of a flyer for the charity's last event - a Valentine's Dinner of "unloved" food that has been thrown away to highlight all the people going hungry while food is being wasted)

Tell Me I’m Great And I’ll Run a Marathon For You

Recently I’ve been feeling a bit down. I’m not entirely sure why. It might be post-race blues (having just met my target for a half-marathon), maybe it is just this winter weather that just seems to be never ending. Whatever the cause the end result is I have found it hard to motivate myself to train and when I have been running I’ve been slower than usual and find I’m getting tired more quickly.

Knowing I’ve been a little down my wife texted me yesterday saying “I love ur running. It is actually v inspirational”.  

It might sound silly but knowing that something I do is “inspirational” is quite a compliment and an ego boost. I think we all want to be admired, especially when it’s by someone you love and respect.

So this morning as I laced up my running shoes I was still thinking about the text. I had in my mind I would run 13 miles which is two circuits of my normal running route. After one circuit I was tired and not feeling particularly motivated and I was going to call it a day and run home.

Then I thought about the text. I want to be inspirational and with that in my mind I pushed on and did the second lap. Not only did I do the second lap I completed the 13miles in 1 hour 28 minutes (a great time for me to complete a half marathon in – especially as there are a number of hills).

I think my ability to run the second lap, and to do it in a good time, is all due to yesterday’s text and the act of being praised. According to a recent study conducted at Imperial College London praise seems to increase testosterone levels. And the increased testosterone increases all manner of sporting abilities - including running.

The other thing about praise, and at first this might seem obvious, praise makes you feel better about yourself. Or to put it more scientifically; praise increases dopamine levels. Dopamine can act as the body’s own natural pain killer and when you are running a long distance and start to feel the burn every drop of dopamine helps.

So give me a little praise and I’ll run an extra lap. Tell me I’m great and I’ll run an entire marathon for you. 

(The picture today is of the the split times of the last 4kms of my run as the dopamine and testosterone were most needed)

My Biggest Achievement is Being Normal

Happiness is temporary, and that is the sign of real achievement.

Last week I ran a half marathon in Cannes. I told people I was hoping to run it in 1hour 27minutes. In the end I ran it in 1 hour 23 minutes 54 seconds. As I crossed the finish line I stopped my stopwatch and realised I’d dipped under 1 hour 24minutes I was ecstatic.

I was completely destroyed but you could not wipe the smile off my face. I had trained really hard. I had made sure I tapered in the week coming to the race. And on the race day I made sure I ran the race I was meant to run, I didn’t go off too fast and ran every kilometre in 4 minutes from start to finish.

I also had enough energy to sprint the last 200meters which I think made the crucial 6 seconds difference between a 1 hour 23minute time and a 1 hour 24 minute time.

I stayed “ecstatic” for the next 24 hours and then that sensation slowly slid into “happiness” in the following 48 hours. Now a week on from the race I am “satisfied” with how I did but I am eager to move on to my next challenge.

I used to think that this temporary happiness with my achievements, (invariably it’s not just running that makes me feel this way) was a flaw. Or at best I thought the temporary nature of happiness was in inbuilt part of the human condition that drives us on to achieve even greater things.

Now I think not being ecstatic about running a 1 hour 23minute half marathon seven days later is actually a bigger achievement than the race itself.

I think the biggest achievement one can aim for is to create a new “normal”.

Running a sub 1 hour 30minutes marathon is normal for me now, even in training.

Running 10km in less in less than 40 minutes is now standard.

And even though I have only ever run one marathon in less than 3 hours 15, I did it while I was injured and so I would like to think that is my new normal.

All those things a year ago were far from normal for me. They were extraordinary.

On race day I want to achieve something extraordinary for where I am physically. But after the race the biggest achievement is to make that your new normal. And the biggest achievement is not being ecstatic about being normal.

(The picture today is taken the day after the marathon of someone running in the south of France being very normal)

Kafka & Marathon Running

In the last forty-eight hours my body has undergone an amazing transformation.

I know sounds slightly overdramatic but it’s true and the more I think about it the more amazing it is. Don’t get me wrong it is the kind of metamorphosis that happens to runners every day all over the world but that doesn’t make it any less remarkable.

This morning I am faster and fitter than I was before and it all happened over 48 hours. At the age of 41 I challenged my body and it literally changed. If I was in a Kafka novel I would be Gregor Samsa and a beetle right now.

Here is how it happened:

On Saturday morning I went for my usual long run. This run is normally a trail run with different terrain and most importantly hills. I try and run it at a comfortable pace without it being too easy. This time I decided to make sure I ran roughly 5minute kilometres and ended up averaging a 4minute 50seconds per kilometre pace. With the hills this was not exactly “comfortable”, in fact at the end of the run I was destroyed.

I wasn’t limping or injured but I could feel my body was in shock and if I pushed it at all there was a high chance I would injure something. For the next 48 hours following the run I just took it easy. I didn’t push my body at all ate loads of protein and slept more than I do normally. It felt as if my body was literally telling me what it needed.

This Monday morning I gingerly went to the gym to do my treadmill speed interval work, I say gingerly because I was worried that my body had not properly recovered and I would injure something. I shouldn’t have worried, I blazed through the speed interval session and ran stronger and harder than I had ever done before.

After putting tremendous strain on my body on Saturday, breaking down the muscles and ligaments it had rebuilt itself and made itself better and stronger.

There are hundreds of interpretations of what Kafka’s surreal novella Metamorphosis really means. For me the last 48 hours has given me a new insight. Our bodies can change quite quickly and dramatically. Normally we don’t even notice these changes. If I wasn’t exercising and so focused on my running I wouldn’t notice that I could complete 15km 30 seconds faster than I could previously. But maybe that was Kafka’s point; we undergo dramatic changes all the time that would we even notice if we turned into a beetle?

Designing The Perfect Runner

You wouldn’t think so but possibly building the perfect runner is like building the perfect house.

One of the things that first attracted me to running was its simplicity.

I loved the idea that in order to run all you needed was three things; a pair of running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt. Wherever I was I could run, on holiday, on my lunch-break at work, anytime, anyplace. I didn’t need a gym, I didn’t need specialist equipment and I didn’t need to rely on other people to form a team.

Recently however, as I get more serious about my running, I feel that simplicity is giving way to complexity. I now run with my GPS phone running app to tell me how fast I am going and my “split times”. I am conscious of my nutrition and have days where I “carb load” and days where I avoid complex carbohydrates. I often run with a drinks belt so I can drink on the go for my longer runs. I have read books about running form and think about how I am engaging my core as I run up a hill or what my glutes are doing as I run down a hill. This is so far from simplicity (shoes, t-shirt and shorts) that it feels like a cruel joke is being played on me. And I am now desperately trying to get that simplicity back.

And so it was with interest that I recently came across the idea of “informed simplicity” in the architectural book; “101 things I Learned In Architecture School” by Matthew Fredrick.

According to Fredrick there are three levels of knowledge, which are demonstrated by the diagrams in at the top of this blog post:

1. “Simplicity” is the world view of the child or uninformed adult, fully engaged in his own experience and happily unaware of what lies beneath the surface of immediate reality.

2. “Complexity” characterizes the ordinary adult world view. It is characterized by an awareness of complex system in nature and society but an inability to discern clarifyng patterns and connection.
3. “Informed Simplicity” is an enlightened view of reality. It is founded upon an ability to dicern or create clarifying patterns within complex mixtures.

In my running I have gone from stage 1 to stage 2 - “simplicity” to “complexity”. What I need to do is get to “informed simplicity”. Instead of seeing each set of muscles working separately that I need to improve I need to see them as one fluid mechanism. Instead of adding a GPS device to my runs on top of all my other running paraphernalia and demands I should integrate it more into my training in the same way a pianist uses a metronome. The metronome doesn’t complicate their playing during practice but is an aid to their performance.

Like the diagrams above I now want to achieve more from my running. To do that I need to work on at least twelve different things but instead of compartmentalising what I need to do into 12 different boxes and increase the complexity I need to find a way to achieve the same result through “complex simplicity”. I still want the same simplicity I had the start (my running shoes, shorts and t-shirt) but I want to achieve more.

After I’ve figured out how to do it with my running I just need to figure out how to do it for the rest of my life. 

Simple.