Before I get into this post I just want to give a big shoutout to a couple of former North Dakota high school runners who have just in the last couple of days ran some impressive college times.
Cody Christ runs for MSUM. He's originally from Dazey, ND and competed for Barnes County North in high school. At the Mt. SAC Relays this weekend he ran the 10k in 30:05, breaking the school record at MSUM.
Alissa Mears also runs for MSUM. She's originally from West Fargo, ND, and competed for West Fargo High School. At the Azusa Pacific Bryan Clay Invitational she ran the 800 in 2:11.47, another impressive time!
But I digress. On to the post.
With each passing day I become more and more in-tune with the kind of runners who truly inspire me. Contrary to what people may find to be inspirational to them in athletics, for me it isn't the fastest athletes. Mo Farah's double Olympic gold doesn't inspire me like this does. Seeing the many dozen sub-4 miles run in the US this last winter doesn't inspire me like this does. Hearing of people logging in 100+ mile weeks doesn't inspire me like this does. It can't. No, this runner was the complete opposite of these stories.
I would like to introduce a guy named Alex Krieg. You may not know him because he doesn't run for a team in college, but he did run in high school. I raced him quite a bit, being that we were in the same conference and a mere 30 minutes separated our respective schools. At many meets I would run the 3200 and he would as well. Our similarities would diverge from there, because we raced differently. I would lap him. Multiple times. At multiple meets. He was the runner trying to go under 12 minutes and I was trying to go under 9:45. I thought nothing of it then- it was simply racing. Now I look back and some things really stand out to me.
I don't know if any of you have lapped somebody or have been lapped by somebody in a race before, but it can be either humbling or rejuvenating (if you detect bias, be assured that I have been lapped before too). I distinctly recall a meet at West Fargo where I was lapping Alex, and he cheered for me. He actually audibly wished for me to race well. I WAS LAPPING HIM. And all he could do was wish me well. Before races Alex would come up to me, shake my hand, and say "Good luck Peterson" every time. I specifically remember a time where he followed that up with "I wonder how many times you will lap me today haha"...
I remember that. His selflessness. His joy for running, even when not expecting to win. His kindness.
I guess that I haven't been in too many situations like his, and that's why it may be hard for me to understand (I'm not being as selfish as I'm sure this post sounds- I promise), but I spent some time trying to figure out why I could remember those little situations, whereas I can't remember much else about the race. This year when I went to meets that had literally every track program in the Midwest in attendance, I figured it out- running can be fun! If there are 150 people in an event, 1 person wins, a few are likely close to that person, and then the other 130+ people are left in the results. That's reality. The people at the bottom of those 130 are the people who inspire me: they keep going even though they know they won't win.
Let me explain further. Distance running isn't easy. You don't just show up and start running the 2 mile or the 5k. Distance running gets a bad rap. Why run 8 laps around a track when you can run 1? It seems so much easier! I ask myself sometimes if people in the far back of distance races ask themselves the same question: wouldn't a 100 be easier? I don't claim to know their thoughts, but what I do know is that they stick with it. They run the race. They get the sympathy clap. They get ushered off the track quickly so the next race can start. They are down the list in the results where people don't scan as thoroughly. But they stay with it.
That's how Alex inspired me now in college. I realized that he had a drive. He knew he wasn't going to win, but not only did he stick with it, but he encouraged others! It reminded me of a time a few years back when I ran the 10k at the Fargo Marathon. I had been injured all spring during track (big surprise right?) and I decided to run this race before running (pun intended) off to Bible Camp for the summer. Coming in on only easy runs, I stupidly went out in a 4:50 first mile and struggled home to a dismal 35:00. I was ashamed. But I took 5th. Out of 7000 people. And during the second half of the race I couldn't believe what people did. I was passing by mile 4 and the enormous mass of people was passing by mile 2, filling up the entire street as far as I could see. I had nobody around me. People started cheering me on! They had no idea who I was or how fast I was running, but they cheered me on. It blew my mind.
That's why you inspire me Alex. You blew my mind with your passion. And if you get a chance to read this, I thank you for giving me and others a reason to tell people to keep going- even when the going gets tough.
To everybody: cheer people on- even if it's uncomfortable. I really can't put into words what it can mean for a person.
Have a Great Day!
Friday, April 17, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
The Rudiments of Running
This past weekend I was able to attend the Concordia University Day of Percussion. I haven't had the opportunity to be at this event since high school when I went every year, and so it was a blast into the past. Oddly enough, I was an all-state musician in high school and for quite some time I wanted to be a music major in college. When the decision was presented to me that I had to choose between athletics and music, it was a very tough process of priorities in which I eventually chose athletics. While that decision has turned out to be a good one for me personally, I still miss the days of concerts and playing and listening to some incredibly beautiful music.
Anyway- this Day of Percussion, as always, featured some of the greatest musicians in the world, and one of them was named Alex Acuna. Acuna is a famous drummer who currently is a studio musician in Los Angeles and just finished playing the drums for the soundtrack for the new 'Jurassic World' movie. He was giving clinics on the drumset and Latin instruments for this event, and some of things he said I found to be not only really important but also relevant to just about anything, including running.
The first thing I'd like to bring up was his insistence on rudiments. Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with percussion (specifically drumming), rudiments are the basic elements found in every kind of playing on a drum. The ones he pointed to were the single-stroke, double-stroke roll, the buzz roll, the flam, and the paradiddle. Now, I'm not going into wha those are exactly, but the point is that anything you play on the drum will come from that list- no matter what. You can try to do something different, but it will fit on that list anyway. He also spent quite a bit of time lamenting the fact that drumset players these days focus too much on being loud and fast and less time focusing on the techniques, such as being well coordinated between your hands and feet.
I agreed with everything that he said. It kind of fit the narrative of our generation: eager to get results immediately without as much work (whether that stereotype is true or not is another debate). But my question is this: isn't running much the same? Runners know how to push themselves- they've likely been doing it for years. They know how to sacrifice to log in big miles or do incredibly difficult workouts- but what about our rudiments? What about those essential tools that everything we do is made up of? People debate whether dynamic or static stretching is the more useful tool, but don't we all agree that stretching of some kind is necessary? What about core and light weights work? What about proper warm-up and cooldown? What about nutrition and getting enough sleep? What about wearing the right kind of shoes and knowing when to switch shoes?
I spend way too much time reading about elite athletes, watching videos of them, and learning about how they became as good as they are. One thing almost all of them have in common is a hardcore focus on the fundamentals- eating right, sleeping enough, stretching, getting proper treatment, working the right muscles, ...the list goes on. It's completely obvious that this approach to training is beneficial. As I've stated in previous posts, injuries are actually good for you in a sense, because it forces you to take a step back and re-focus on the fundamentals- the rudiments of running.
Consider a concert or performance to be much like a race- anybody can play fast or loud, just like anybody can run to the front of a race by sprinting the start. However, the truly talented musicians that stun crowds are the one who are technically sound and rudimentally smart. So the question becomes this: are you rudimentally smart with your running?
The second (and final because I don't want this post to be as long as I probably could make it!) thing that Alex Acuna told us was about how much he loves music. He told us that at that moment he had tendinitis in his arm (a crucial injury for a percussionist), and he was stressed out and tired from only getting a couple hours of sleep on the flight the night before. However, he told us that when he sat down and played music, his pain disappeared and his worries were no more. He talked about how his love for music runs so deep that he can turn away from the complaints and worries of the world and instead be absorbed by the beauty of music.
To me this sounds a lot like running. I could be having a pretty crappy day, but once I throw on the shoes and go out for a run, my thoughts slowly drift away from those things and towards the running. I can finish a run feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off of my chest. And while it may be true that the weights of the world are still waiting for me when I get back, at least for that short time I can have some peace.
And to finish up my post I'd like to mention what he said to me after the clinic. I was actually washing my hands in the bathroom and he came in to wash his. I mentioned to him how much I had enjoyed his performance and I how I had taken to heart what he had told us about his passion for music. I told him that I felt the same way about running- having that passion that leads to worries just disappearing. He told me this: "ah, but that's the difference between passion and love- passions can go up and down and go away and come back, but love is forever. I love music".
Don't we all?
Have a Great Day!
Anyway- this Day of Percussion, as always, featured some of the greatest musicians in the world, and one of them was named Alex Acuna. Acuna is a famous drummer who currently is a studio musician in Los Angeles and just finished playing the drums for the soundtrack for the new 'Jurassic World' movie. He was giving clinics on the drumset and Latin instruments for this event, and some of things he said I found to be not only really important but also relevant to just about anything, including running.
The first thing I'd like to bring up was his insistence on rudiments. Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with percussion (specifically drumming), rudiments are the basic elements found in every kind of playing on a drum. The ones he pointed to were the single-stroke, double-stroke roll, the buzz roll, the flam, and the paradiddle. Now, I'm not going into wha those are exactly, but the point is that anything you play on the drum will come from that list- no matter what. You can try to do something different, but it will fit on that list anyway. He also spent quite a bit of time lamenting the fact that drumset players these days focus too much on being loud and fast and less time focusing on the techniques, such as being well coordinated between your hands and feet.
I agreed with everything that he said. It kind of fit the narrative of our generation: eager to get results immediately without as much work (whether that stereotype is true or not is another debate). But my question is this: isn't running much the same? Runners know how to push themselves- they've likely been doing it for years. They know how to sacrifice to log in big miles or do incredibly difficult workouts- but what about our rudiments? What about those essential tools that everything we do is made up of? People debate whether dynamic or static stretching is the more useful tool, but don't we all agree that stretching of some kind is necessary? What about core and light weights work? What about proper warm-up and cooldown? What about nutrition and getting enough sleep? What about wearing the right kind of shoes and knowing when to switch shoes?
I spend way too much time reading about elite athletes, watching videos of them, and learning about how they became as good as they are. One thing almost all of them have in common is a hardcore focus on the fundamentals- eating right, sleeping enough, stretching, getting proper treatment, working the right muscles, ...the list goes on. It's completely obvious that this approach to training is beneficial. As I've stated in previous posts, injuries are actually good for you in a sense, because it forces you to take a step back and re-focus on the fundamentals- the rudiments of running.
Consider a concert or performance to be much like a race- anybody can play fast or loud, just like anybody can run to the front of a race by sprinting the start. However, the truly talented musicians that stun crowds are the one who are technically sound and rudimentally smart. So the question becomes this: are you rudimentally smart with your running?
The second (and final because I don't want this post to be as long as I probably could make it!) thing that Alex Acuna told us was about how much he loves music. He told us that at that moment he had tendinitis in his arm (a crucial injury for a percussionist), and he was stressed out and tired from only getting a couple hours of sleep on the flight the night before. However, he told us that when he sat down and played music, his pain disappeared and his worries were no more. He talked about how his love for music runs so deep that he can turn away from the complaints and worries of the world and instead be absorbed by the beauty of music.
To me this sounds a lot like running. I could be having a pretty crappy day, but once I throw on the shoes and go out for a run, my thoughts slowly drift away from those things and towards the running. I can finish a run feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off of my chest. And while it may be true that the weights of the world are still waiting for me when I get back, at least for that short time I can have some peace.
And to finish up my post I'd like to mention what he said to me after the clinic. I was actually washing my hands in the bathroom and he came in to wash his. I mentioned to him how much I had enjoyed his performance and I how I had taken to heart what he had told us about his passion for music. I told him that I felt the same way about running- having that passion that leads to worries just disappearing. He told me this: "ah, but that's the difference between passion and love- passions can go up and down and go away and come back, but love is forever. I love music".
Don't we all?
Have a Great Day!
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Curt Bacon- A Short Profile
In the 1970s running was beginning to gain serious momentum, and North Dakota was no exception. In 1971, for example, the 2 mile run was added to the list of events run at high school track meets in the state, with the mile and the 880-yard run already being there. Running participation increased, and records started falling left and right. This was the environment for a runner from Minot, ND to come forward and become one of the faster mid-distance runners we've seen around here.
The first signs of success that I come across are in 1974 and 1975 when Bacon was running for Minot Ryan (a private catholic school in Minot). In 1974 he won the WDA mile and then the state mile, in 4:25.4 and 4:26.5 respectively. Also that year he placed 3rd at state in the 880-yd run with a time of 1:59.5. In 1975 he won the State mile in 4:18.6 and placed second in the two mile with a time of 9:35.7. From the ND Runner website listed below, it seems as if the mile time in 1975 was tied for the state record then. So a pretty successful high school career.
Then he went to NDSU and continued to improve. As of right now, he is still in NDSU's top ten in a bunch of events:
3rd in the outdoor 1500 with a time of 3:47.81
2nd in the outdoor 3k Steeple with a time of 8:48.84
1st in the outdoor 4x1600 relay (time of 16:48)
2nd and 3rd in the outdoor DMR (distance medley relay) with times of 9:43.65 and 9:45.96.
1st in the indoor 1500 with a time of 3:49.02
He also held (may still hold?) the meet record in the mile at the NW Open at the University of Minnesota with a time of 4:04.00.
That's pretty impressive. Naturally this garnered him significant accolades. This is from the NDSU website describing their Hall-of-Fame inductee:
"Bacon was a two-time NCAA national steeplechase champion and four-time North Central Conference champion in the late 1970s and 1980 for the Bison.
The first NCAA Division II national track and field champion for the Bison, he won the 3,000-meter steeplechase in 1979 and 1980. [Emphasis Mine] His four NCC championships came in the steeplechase in 1979 and 1980, the indoor 2-mile in 1977, and the indoor 1,500-meter run in 1979. His 8:56.8 time in the NCC steeplechase in 1980 remains the league record. He still holds NDSU school records in the indoor 1,500 meters and the 3,000-meter steeplechase.
A 1979 graduate in business and economics from NDSU, he earned a master's degree in business administration at NDSU in 1981, a master's degree in finance from the University of Oregon in 1987, and completed his doctorate in finance at Southern Illinois University-Carbondale in 1996."
From the ND Runner website, he also has PR's of 14:41 5k, 25:25 8k, 30:30 10k, 1:11.30 Half Marathon, and 2:35 Full Marathon. Now he is working as the School of Business Study Abroad Coordinator for Southern Oregon University. While he's no loner tearing it up on the track, it's still really cool to look back and see how successful some of these runners from ND were. Any of you ND kids out there wondering if you can be fast AND be in North Dakota at the same time, look no further than here. Remember, the cold and wind can only make you stronger!
An aside, Bacon has apparently gotten really into cycling in the post-running years; check this out!
http://app.strava.com/athletes/1709524
As usual, if there's any mistakes let me know!
Links I used to assist me:
http://www.wdasports.org/track-year-by-year-results--boys-.html
http://www.bhs.bismarckschools.org/uploads/resources/21810/1974-class-a-boys.pdf
http://www.bhs.bismarckschools.org/uploads/resources/21809/1975-class-a-boys.pdf
http://www.sou.edu/business/faculty/bacon.html
http://www2.bhs.bismarck.k12.nd.us/athletics/bhsboystrack/alltimelist/distancechamps.htm
http://www.gobison.com/sports/2013/5/6/944861710.aspx?path=mtrack
http://www.gobison.com/hof.aspx?hof=102&path=&kiosk=
http://ndrunner.tripod.com/id107.htm
Sunday, March 15, 2015
North Dakotans at Nationals
Well the collegiate indoor track season is here and gone (the North Dakota high school indoor season is getting started, just this year with warm temperatures and no snow). The past couple of weekends have featured the major national meets- ranging from D1 to NAIA. My question was simple: where were the ND people dispersed throughout these meets?
If I miss any names, let me know.
NAIA:
All I can find at the NAIA national meet is a runner from Hankinson, ND named Mark Moeller, who went to high school in South Dakota (Rosholt High School). He took 5th place in the 800 with a time of 1:53.59 running for Dakota State University.
DIII:
I could not find any North Dakotans.
DII:
Matthew Loehr (MSUM) competed on the 4x400 relay team that took 11th with a time of 3:15.74. He ran for Grand Forks Red River in high school as a successful mid-distance runner.
Alissa Mears (MSUM) competed in the 800 meter run, placing 18th with a time of 2:21.16. She ran for West Fargo in high school as a successful distance runner who won state cross country and state track titles before coming back from injuries to win the 800 title her senior year.
Lexi Zeis (U-Mary) competed in the 3000 meter run, placing 8th with a time of 9:39.08. She also ran on the U-Mary DMR squad that placed 5th with a time of 11:37.43. She ran for Bismarck High School as a successful distance runner who was first team all-state in cross country.
Brittany Brownotter (U-Mary) competed on the U-Mary DMR squad as well. She ran for Bismarck High School, winning states title both in cross country and in track.
Brienna Lynch (U-Mary) also competed on the U-Mary DMR squad. She ran for Bismarck Century in high school, placing top 8 at state in both the 400 and the 800.
DI:
Jess Herauf (Minnesota) placed 5th in the heptathlon with 4372 points. She went to Dickinson High School, where she was a state champion hurdler and jav thrower.
Brandon Barnes (Iowa State) competed on Iowa State's DMR that took 3rd. He ran the 400 leg with split of 48.29. In high school, he ran for Bismarck High School, where he ran a state all-time record of 1:51 in the 800, and anchored the BHS 4x800 team that took 3rd at New Balance Nationals. Also, if you get a chance, check out pictures of him racing at DI nationals- he has the beard of the meet in my opinion.
Drew Wiseman (Nebraska) competed on Nebraska's 4x400 team that took 2nd at the national meet. He ran the anchor leg and they ran 3:04.83. In high school, he ran for Bismarck Century, winning state titles in the 200 and 400.
If I miss any names, let me know.
NAIA:
All I can find at the NAIA national meet is a runner from Hankinson, ND named Mark Moeller, who went to high school in South Dakota (Rosholt High School). He took 5th place in the 800 with a time of 1:53.59 running for Dakota State University.
DIII:
I could not find any North Dakotans.
DII:
Matthew Loehr (MSUM) competed on the 4x400 relay team that took 11th with a time of 3:15.74. He ran for Grand Forks Red River in high school as a successful mid-distance runner.
Alissa Mears (MSUM) competed in the 800 meter run, placing 18th with a time of 2:21.16. She ran for West Fargo in high school as a successful distance runner who won state cross country and state track titles before coming back from injuries to win the 800 title her senior year.
Lexi Zeis (U-Mary) competed in the 3000 meter run, placing 8th with a time of 9:39.08. She also ran on the U-Mary DMR squad that placed 5th with a time of 11:37.43. She ran for Bismarck High School as a successful distance runner who was first team all-state in cross country.
Brittany Brownotter (U-Mary) competed on the U-Mary DMR squad as well. She ran for Bismarck High School, winning states title both in cross country and in track.
Brienna Lynch (U-Mary) also competed on the U-Mary DMR squad. She ran for Bismarck Century in high school, placing top 8 at state in both the 400 and the 800.
DI:
Jess Herauf (Minnesota) placed 5th in the heptathlon with 4372 points. She went to Dickinson High School, where she was a state champion hurdler and jav thrower.
Brandon Barnes (Iowa State) competed on Iowa State's DMR that took 3rd. He ran the 400 leg with split of 48.29. In high school, he ran for Bismarck High School, where he ran a state all-time record of 1:51 in the 800, and anchored the BHS 4x800 team that took 3rd at New Balance Nationals. Also, if you get a chance, check out pictures of him racing at DI nationals- he has the beard of the meet in my opinion.
Drew Wiseman (Nebraska) competed on Nebraska's 4x400 team that took 2nd at the national meet. He ran the anchor leg and they ran 3:04.83. In high school, he ran for Bismarck Century, winning state titles in the 200 and 400.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
The Power of the Mind
Over the past week I have had a tutorial in how powerful our minds actually are in influencing our success (or lack of it). I hope that I can convince you of that fact if you don't already believe it.
Growing up I always heard people say things like 'you can do anything if you set your mind to it' or 'you need to have an optimistic view on things', but I always shrugged them off skeptically. For the latter my response would be that optimists fail to see the whole picture and just simply ignore reality, and for the former I would argue that anybody who had tried to staple water to a tree probably wouldn't agree with that statement. I had a pretty good attitude right? Only in the past couple years have I been able to get over these hurdles because of life experience- I want to add that there are A LOT of things I've learned only from life experience.
I could go on and on right now about how I became an optimist, but the short version of the story is that I spent a summer working as a counselor at a Bible camp and I came back ready to see the good in just about everything, and it was such a relief! I've concluded that you can find something bad about EVERYTHING and something good about EVERYTHING. It may go without saying, but pessimists generally see the bad side, while optimists generally see the good side (or try to anyway). I've applied this to racing in so many different ways, because as runners we are incredibly pessimistic about our running (and athletes all across the board are like this as well) in that there is always something to fix, tweak, improve, or work on. How often do we finish a race with overall satisfaction? How often do we finish the race and say 'well it was good but it could have been better if I did this or that'? I would gander that the second question is the more common.
Here's an idea: sometimes it's OK to be purely happy with a race, see the good in it, and move on. We could dwell on the negatives all day, or we could see them as a means of improvement.
Now there's one step further than an optimist: a dreamer. I still cringe at that word, even now. I used to look down upon dreamers as not being rational, but rather being emotional about things. What's the point of setting completely unattainable goals? Why set the bar so incredibly high that you can hardly see it? These are the 'you can do anything if you set your mind to it' people, and they always bothered me. Now I consider myself one.
To sum up my feelings now, consider this saying: 'If your goals don't scare or intimidate you a little, you probably haven't set them high enough'. Think about that. Comfortable goals are easy to set, but when you set a goal that shakes your core a little, isn't that a truly unique feeling? You can either decide to give up or move on from there. If you give up, you settle back to comfortable goals and you might never reach your true potential. But if you shoot for the stars, you might end up going farther and ending up on some random undiscovered planet with life unlike anything you've ever seen!
Ok, that was a little dramatic I admit, but seriously! I remember my freshman year I came in with modest high school times, and I would look at the UND record board and wonder to myself what kind of freaks of nature could ever get down to those kinds of times. Now that I'm in a position to break a few of them, I look back and I wish I could say to myself 'Go get it!'. I wish I would have been a dreamer who believed that the power of mind could change how you view things.
I've had some great conversations with teammates in the week about this topic. If people put their mind to something and do everything in their power to complete it, they either hit their goal or inspire others to do the same; either way it is a win for somebody. We talked about how some coaches out there don't have a great conceptual grasp of what they are coaching, but it doesn't matter because they can inspire athletes to believe that they can be great. If a coach knows everything ever about the sport but doesn't build a program where the athletes believe they can be successful, the program will likely fail. However, if the coach can convince them they can be great, they can. It's all about convincing, because like I already said: once you've given up, you stop growing. Consider this saying: 'Whether you say you can or can't, you're right'. I really believe this saying now.
After Roger Bannister broke the 4-minute mile barrier (the one people said was physiologically impossible), multiple people did it within the next year. It was a MENTAL barrier.
Once the American and French revolutions began to take shape and democratic ideas made it into the mainstream, people all over the world began fighting for rights. It's not that rights didn't exist, but rather that there was a MENTAL barrier to allowing them into society.
I just want to leave one last point to try to tie up all this rambling. We had our conference track meet this past weekend in Flagstaff, Arizona, which sits at an altitude of around 7,000 feet. This is important because physical activity becomes incredibly difficult at that high of altitude, even to the point where the NCAA has altitude conversations to tell you how fast your time in Flagstaff would be if you ran at sea level. This poses an obvious physical barrier, but a not-so-obvious mental barrier. Going to a place knowing that the air will affect you and how you perform makes it hard to stay optimistic. In fact, for the first couple days I would sit in my bed and try to feel how the air was affecting me, as if I was trying to manufacture something out of nothing. To make a long story short, almost all of our distance runners competed amazing at the meet, even though we have no altitude training. Our coach gave us no excuse for not running well at altitude, because he knew that we could push through the mental barrier. Some teams can't, but we did. We exceeded expectations.
And just think, without the mindset of simply chasing after dreams and hoping for the best, we might have had a much different result.
Set the bar high and keep chugging until you hit it. And once you hit it, put it higher and start over. Pretty soon you'll look down and hardly recognize the speck of dust that was you when you first started.
Blessings,
-Nate Peterson
P.S. I remember when my biggest goal was to run under 4:20 in the mile someday. My latest mile converted to a 4:06. If only you could see my goals now that I've become a dreamer.
Growing up I always heard people say things like 'you can do anything if you set your mind to it' or 'you need to have an optimistic view on things', but I always shrugged them off skeptically. For the latter my response would be that optimists fail to see the whole picture and just simply ignore reality, and for the former I would argue that anybody who had tried to staple water to a tree probably wouldn't agree with that statement. I had a pretty good attitude right? Only in the past couple years have I been able to get over these hurdles because of life experience- I want to add that there are A LOT of things I've learned only from life experience.
I could go on and on right now about how I became an optimist, but the short version of the story is that I spent a summer working as a counselor at a Bible camp and I came back ready to see the good in just about everything, and it was such a relief! I've concluded that you can find something bad about EVERYTHING and something good about EVERYTHING. It may go without saying, but pessimists generally see the bad side, while optimists generally see the good side (or try to anyway). I've applied this to racing in so many different ways, because as runners we are incredibly pessimistic about our running (and athletes all across the board are like this as well) in that there is always something to fix, tweak, improve, or work on. How often do we finish a race with overall satisfaction? How often do we finish the race and say 'well it was good but it could have been better if I did this or that'? I would gander that the second question is the more common.
Here's an idea: sometimes it's OK to be purely happy with a race, see the good in it, and move on. We could dwell on the negatives all day, or we could see them as a means of improvement.
Now there's one step further than an optimist: a dreamer. I still cringe at that word, even now. I used to look down upon dreamers as not being rational, but rather being emotional about things. What's the point of setting completely unattainable goals? Why set the bar so incredibly high that you can hardly see it? These are the 'you can do anything if you set your mind to it' people, and they always bothered me. Now I consider myself one.
To sum up my feelings now, consider this saying: 'If your goals don't scare or intimidate you a little, you probably haven't set them high enough'. Think about that. Comfortable goals are easy to set, but when you set a goal that shakes your core a little, isn't that a truly unique feeling? You can either decide to give up or move on from there. If you give up, you settle back to comfortable goals and you might never reach your true potential. But if you shoot for the stars, you might end up going farther and ending up on some random undiscovered planet with life unlike anything you've ever seen!
Ok, that was a little dramatic I admit, but seriously! I remember my freshman year I came in with modest high school times, and I would look at the UND record board and wonder to myself what kind of freaks of nature could ever get down to those kinds of times. Now that I'm in a position to break a few of them, I look back and I wish I could say to myself 'Go get it!'. I wish I would have been a dreamer who believed that the power of mind could change how you view things.
I've had some great conversations with teammates in the week about this topic. If people put their mind to something and do everything in their power to complete it, they either hit their goal or inspire others to do the same; either way it is a win for somebody. We talked about how some coaches out there don't have a great conceptual grasp of what they are coaching, but it doesn't matter because they can inspire athletes to believe that they can be great. If a coach knows everything ever about the sport but doesn't build a program where the athletes believe they can be successful, the program will likely fail. However, if the coach can convince them they can be great, they can. It's all about convincing, because like I already said: once you've given up, you stop growing. Consider this saying: 'Whether you say you can or can't, you're right'. I really believe this saying now.
After Roger Bannister broke the 4-minute mile barrier (the one people said was physiologically impossible), multiple people did it within the next year. It was a MENTAL barrier.
Once the American and French revolutions began to take shape and democratic ideas made it into the mainstream, people all over the world began fighting for rights. It's not that rights didn't exist, but rather that there was a MENTAL barrier to allowing them into society.
I just want to leave one last point to try to tie up all this rambling. We had our conference track meet this past weekend in Flagstaff, Arizona, which sits at an altitude of around 7,000 feet. This is important because physical activity becomes incredibly difficult at that high of altitude, even to the point where the NCAA has altitude conversations to tell you how fast your time in Flagstaff would be if you ran at sea level. This poses an obvious physical barrier, but a not-so-obvious mental barrier. Going to a place knowing that the air will affect you and how you perform makes it hard to stay optimistic. In fact, for the first couple days I would sit in my bed and try to feel how the air was affecting me, as if I was trying to manufacture something out of nothing. To make a long story short, almost all of our distance runners competed amazing at the meet, even though we have no altitude training. Our coach gave us no excuse for not running well at altitude, because he knew that we could push through the mental barrier. Some teams can't, but we did. We exceeded expectations.
And just think, without the mindset of simply chasing after dreams and hoping for the best, we might have had a much different result.
Set the bar high and keep chugging until you hit it. And once you hit it, put it higher and start over. Pretty soon you'll look down and hardly recognize the speck of dust that was you when you first started.
Blessings,
-Nate Peterson
P.S. I remember when my biggest goal was to run under 4:20 in the mile someday. My latest mile converted to a 4:06. If only you could see my goals now that I've become a dreamer.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Why I Run- My Parents
This fall we were en route to a cross country meet at Nebraska, and during the 8 hour trip I was feeling particularly reflective, so I decided to make a list of all the reasons that I run. All of them. In the end the list was 21 items long, and each one has its own unique story and emotions attached to it. Some are much more obvious than others, and some are much more important than others; the main point is that they are all reasons why I run. I have given hints before in some other posts about my love for running in quiet places and on gravel roads, but my inspirations lie in other places as well. For the next few posts I really want to focus in on what gives me internal motivation and why it allows me to enjoy what I do. Hopefully from this you can be encouraged to really take a look at the reasons that you do what you do. After all, what's really gonna matter in 50 years? I know I won't remember too many races from my college days when I'm 70 years old, and neither will most people. So what REALLY keeps you going? Because if it's success and dreams of victories then I got some news for you from an inexperienced 21-year-old: when you aren't winning anymore it's gonna get REAL boring. So the first one I want to focus on is my parents.
My parents have been there for so many of my races that it's not even worth my time trying to count them. I suppose it started back in 7th grade when I was struggling to place above the bottom 5 in middle school cross country races and not even doing track because I played baseball in the spring. They were at the meets. It continued through freshman year of high school when Luke and I were moving our way up through the JV ranks in cross country. They were there. Later in high school when I was ascending through varsity races and finally joining the track team my junior year, they were there. My senior year at all my meets in track and cross country- they were there. My dad even videotaped my races so I could watch them time and time and time and time again back at home until I had them memorized. It was so normal to see them at meets because the meets were always nearby.
Then college running came. Now our meets were in Minnesota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, Montana, Arizona, Oregon, Missouri, and all kinds of other places. Now I didn't get to see them at meets very often. No more videotaped races. Injuries didn't allow me to race when I did have a meet near home, and every time that happened I felt like I let them down- like they deserved to see me race after all I had done to get there.
This year during cross country was different. Because it was my senior year they were going to make it to every meet, and they did. They were at every single meet, and my dad even drove all the way to the regional meet in Illinois. Being able to race in front of them fresh and healthy was so amazing! Knowing that they had raised me and taken care of me, it is just hard to explain how much it meant to me to be able to- in a sense- give back.
Then during Christmas break, I learned that my parents were going to the conference indoor track meet to watch me race. The meet is in Flagstaff, Arizona. At the time of hearing this, I was injured, I had only once in college so far made it through indoor season healthy, so suddenly I had a real, tangible reason to make it to indoor conference: I was going to do it for my parents. This changed my whole racing mentality during this season, with the only thing mattering was if I could get a time into conference so I race for my parents, after all they had done for me, after all the meets they had been to, all of the investment in my running over the years, after all the time they've spent watching me run, after all the things they've said 'no' to just to worry about my running- it was the least I can do. What I've found is that racing for something other than myself is so rewarding.
I'll repeat that: what I've found is that racing for something other than myself is rewarding. I've discovered a passion for what I do like I've never had before because it has so much more meaning. It's not all about me and how well I can do, but rather how well I can do to give back something given to me. I am forever indebted to my parent's sacrifice, and being able to race at all in college is such a blessing, and now that I can sit back and say "This is for you Mom and Dad", it has meaning.
So this is for you Mom and Dad: you are one of the reasons I run and have discovered new passion for it.
P.S. Here's a treat for those of you who made it this far into the post: My mom told me this a couple years ago:
"...and I said that if somebody had told me during your junior year of high school that you would be running in Division 1, I would have laughed at them."
My dad's response: "Yup"
My parents have been there for so many of my races that it's not even worth my time trying to count them. I suppose it started back in 7th grade when I was struggling to place above the bottom 5 in middle school cross country races and not even doing track because I played baseball in the spring. They were at the meets. It continued through freshman year of high school when Luke and I were moving our way up through the JV ranks in cross country. They were there. Later in high school when I was ascending through varsity races and finally joining the track team my junior year, they were there. My senior year at all my meets in track and cross country- they were there. My dad even videotaped my races so I could watch them time and time and time and time again back at home until I had them memorized. It was so normal to see them at meets because the meets were always nearby.
Then college running came. Now our meets were in Minnesota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, Montana, Arizona, Oregon, Missouri, and all kinds of other places. Now I didn't get to see them at meets very often. No more videotaped races. Injuries didn't allow me to race when I did have a meet near home, and every time that happened I felt like I let them down- like they deserved to see me race after all I had done to get there.
This year during cross country was different. Because it was my senior year they were going to make it to every meet, and they did. They were at every single meet, and my dad even drove all the way to the regional meet in Illinois. Being able to race in front of them fresh and healthy was so amazing! Knowing that they had raised me and taken care of me, it is just hard to explain how much it meant to me to be able to- in a sense- give back.
Then during Christmas break, I learned that my parents were going to the conference indoor track meet to watch me race. The meet is in Flagstaff, Arizona. At the time of hearing this, I was injured, I had only once in college so far made it through indoor season healthy, so suddenly I had a real, tangible reason to make it to indoor conference: I was going to do it for my parents. This changed my whole racing mentality during this season, with the only thing mattering was if I could get a time into conference so I race for my parents, after all they had done for me, after all the meets they had been to, all of the investment in my running over the years, after all the time they've spent watching me run, after all the things they've said 'no' to just to worry about my running- it was the least I can do. What I've found is that racing for something other than myself is so rewarding.
I'll repeat that: what I've found is that racing for something other than myself is rewarding. I've discovered a passion for what I do like I've never had before because it has so much more meaning. It's not all about me and how well I can do, but rather how well I can do to give back something given to me. I am forever indebted to my parent's sacrifice, and being able to race at all in college is such a blessing, and now that I can sit back and say "This is for you Mom and Dad", it has meaning.
So this is for you Mom and Dad: you are one of the reasons I run and have discovered new passion for it.
P.S. Here's a treat for those of you who made it this far into the post: My mom told me this a couple years ago:
"...and I said that if somebody had told me during your junior year of high school that you would be running in Division 1, I would have laughed at them."
My dad's response: "Yup"
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Track vs. Cross Country
One argument I've come across in the past couple of years is the battle between cross country and track. We group people into essentially three distinct categories: a true cross country runner, a true distance track runner, and a true mid-distance track runner (I'm obviously excluding all the other track events, but I'm just focusing on distance running right now). We get the idea that it is incredibly difficult to have a mixture of any of the three above. As they say: some people are just track people, or some people are just good at cross country. I have this argument internally quite often, because even though I love cross country, it's pretty clear that I do much better comparatively in shorter track races like the mile and 1500.
Oddly enough it kind of reminds me of something that I learned in my History of Math class (just bear with me- I promise this won't be as boring as you may think it might be). We were talking about famous mathematicians and scientists who could prove theorems and do math across all the spectrum: geometry, algebra, calculus, etc...and when we started getting to the 1900s each topic got so incredibly deep and diverse that it had become impossible for any single person to be well-versed in all of the topics, and this becomes more and more true each year. The question I wonder to myself sometimes is: have we become too specialized in cross country and track?
What spurred my interest was a comment thread I was reading about Chris Derrick. He is one of my current favorite runners, because he is DOMINATING the USA XC scene right now, and I have always considered cross country to be about as pure as running gets. He crushed the competition in the 12k US XC Championships at altitude in Boulder, CO this weekend and won by 30 seconds over other acclaimed professionals. This was all great, but in this particular comment thread, I was reading about people saying how cross country is just his way of hiding from the real competition on the track because he doesn't have a good enough kick. Nobody good runs cross country, they say.
And they may actually be right. Kenenisa Bekele is widely considered one of the greatest distance runners ever, currently holding the world records in the 5k and 10k on the track, but some people forget that he was also a many-time World XC champion in the years between 2000 and 2010. He did it all in dominating fashion. However, since then the top track athletes in the world have rarely ventured on the cross country course, and the best cross country runners are not the ones you see competing for the gold medal in the Olympics.
Can cross country runners be successful in track? Can track athletes be successful on the track? There are obvious examples of where it can happen, as mentioned above (and Derrick dropped his 5k PR down to 13:02 last year, which is pretty darn good), but really think about this: where are the XC studs in track?
Another example: where were Colorado's distance runners at track nationals last year? For a team who has won the last two NCAA cross country titles, they don't seem to make much of ripple on the track. Why? Is the training too different? Are they burnt out from cross country? Do they not focus on track? I'll admit that I have no idea, but these questions have baffled me. In our post-modern society of extreme specialization in all aspect of life, does it have to be that way in running? Do we artificially group runners by their ability to kick in a 1500, outlast in the 10K, or push through an XC race?
I think that there is room for runners to be good at all types of races, or at least to enjoy them. As I say all the time, I love training and racing in cross country, but I also can't shake the feeling of throwing on those track spikes and flying around a 200m indoor track. I know this post is probably 100% mindless ramble from me, but the main point I'm trying to get across is: if you start labeling people as a certain kind of runner, that's what they'll become. Try all kinds of distances/types of races, and see what works best and is the most fun! It'll be worth it!
Nate
As always, let me know if I have woeful inaccuracies in here or if you completely disagree with me.
Oddly enough it kind of reminds me of something that I learned in my History of Math class (just bear with me- I promise this won't be as boring as you may think it might be). We were talking about famous mathematicians and scientists who could prove theorems and do math across all the spectrum: geometry, algebra, calculus, etc...and when we started getting to the 1900s each topic got so incredibly deep and diverse that it had become impossible for any single person to be well-versed in all of the topics, and this becomes more and more true each year. The question I wonder to myself sometimes is: have we become too specialized in cross country and track?
What spurred my interest was a comment thread I was reading about Chris Derrick. He is one of my current favorite runners, because he is DOMINATING the USA XC scene right now, and I have always considered cross country to be about as pure as running gets. He crushed the competition in the 12k US XC Championships at altitude in Boulder, CO this weekend and won by 30 seconds over other acclaimed professionals. This was all great, but in this particular comment thread, I was reading about people saying how cross country is just his way of hiding from the real competition on the track because he doesn't have a good enough kick. Nobody good runs cross country, they say.
And they may actually be right. Kenenisa Bekele is widely considered one of the greatest distance runners ever, currently holding the world records in the 5k and 10k on the track, but some people forget that he was also a many-time World XC champion in the years between 2000 and 2010. He did it all in dominating fashion. However, since then the top track athletes in the world have rarely ventured on the cross country course, and the best cross country runners are not the ones you see competing for the gold medal in the Olympics.
Can cross country runners be successful in track? Can track athletes be successful on the track? There are obvious examples of where it can happen, as mentioned above (and Derrick dropped his 5k PR down to 13:02 last year, which is pretty darn good), but really think about this: where are the XC studs in track?
Another example: where were Colorado's distance runners at track nationals last year? For a team who has won the last two NCAA cross country titles, they don't seem to make much of ripple on the track. Why? Is the training too different? Are they burnt out from cross country? Do they not focus on track? I'll admit that I have no idea, but these questions have baffled me. In our post-modern society of extreme specialization in all aspect of life, does it have to be that way in running? Do we artificially group runners by their ability to kick in a 1500, outlast in the 10K, or push through an XC race?
I think that there is room for runners to be good at all types of races, or at least to enjoy them. As I say all the time, I love training and racing in cross country, but I also can't shake the feeling of throwing on those track spikes and flying around a 200m indoor track. I know this post is probably 100% mindless ramble from me, but the main point I'm trying to get across is: if you start labeling people as a certain kind of runner, that's what they'll become. Try all kinds of distances/types of races, and see what works best and is the most fun! It'll be worth it!
Nate
As always, let me know if I have woeful inaccuracies in here or if you completely disagree with me.
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