The Running Gods Smiled

Yesterday I had one of those rare days where the Running Gods smiled on me. These are the types of days that every runner hopes for, the days when everything is easy, when running the pace that you are supposed to hit is effortless, these days when you go a little longer than you need to just because it feels so good to run.

In case you missed it, the weather here in Michigan is absolutely frigid. Anyone who knows me knows how much I truly dislike cold weather. How cold was it? It was so cold that Hell froze over.

For those who aren’t local, Hell is a little town south of here with some of the best trail running in the area.  But you won’t see me on those frozen trails. In fact, I am rarely spotted outside at all in this weather. My first winter here I joyfully embraced winter – at first – until I found out just how cold it was and how it just went on and on. But enough about the cold, let’s get back to the Running Gods and my workout.

Me joyfully embracing winter the first year (before I found out
what a pain it really is)

You may remember one of my earlier posts where I confessed to being a running pagan. I believe wholeheartedly in a pantheon of Running Gods of various shapes, sizes, and temperaments that when they are not otherwise occupied (no doubt watching reruns of great running races or filling race directors’ minds with particularly nasty courses) deign to meddle in the lives of mere mortal runners such as you and me. No runner is immune from their influence (although many may deny their existence).

My workout yesterday was a lactate threshold workout, 35 minutes continuous at lactate threshold pace. I have really been struggling with these runs lately, which is out of character for me. These have long been my favorite workouts on the schedule. I just naturally love running at that pace. However, I had been neglecting these types of runs in the last year, and as I got back to serious training this fall, these workouts were both painful and frustrating.

I approached the treadmill and began warming up feeling that it would be another difficult and lackluster performance, but then as I pushed it up to pace and started the harder part of the workout a miraculous thing happened. It felt good. It felt easy. The Running Gods were smiling. I waited 10 minutes to be sure it wasn’t just a cruel prank on their part (like the Greek gods, they are not above that type of thing), and then cautiously pushed up the pace a bit. It still felt easy. 

After another cautious 10 minutes I pushed the pace back again. I still wasn’t struggling. It was amazing. At the end of that 10 minutes I pushed it back one more time. The last five minutes of the workout still felt good. In fact, just in the last few minutes a song I love started on the video that was providing the background (Jimmy Buffett live in Wrigley Field), so I just kept going, for three more minutes. Even then, I didn’t want to stop, but I knew I should.  "If only this would happen on race days," I thought, but then quickly brushed that thought from my mind. To seem ungrateful for the gifts that are given can bring wrath from the aforementioned temperamental and easily-offended Running Gods. 

Now I know what some of you might be thinking: "there are no Running Gods, and there is a reasonable explanation for this. You have been training steadily for six weeks now and progress was bound to happen. You have done some good workouts in the past that laid the foundation for a breakthrough run. It is all physiology."

Well, you can think that if you want, but to do so is to take away the enchantment of the moment. This explanation may leave the intellect satisfied, but it leaves the soul without sustenance. In the spirit of my Resolution 3, I will stay enchanted.

So, yesterday, while the wind howled and Hell froze over, the Running Gods smiled. Have the Running Gods been smiling on you? 

Homage to the Running Gods

As I mentioned in an earlier post, religion and politics are usually taboo topics for public conversation for me, but it is hard to write week after week about my running without making a confession: I am a running pagan. I worship the running gods.

I was not always a running pagan. I started out with the same Judeo-Christian background that many of us in the United States share, but somehow it did not take. At an early age I disappointed my devout grandmother by being more interested in the stories of  Greek gods and goddesses than the Bible stories she was trying to get me to absorb. When I got a little older, I was absolutely fascinated to learn that those gods and goddesses of myths were really the deities that the Greeks worshipped in their daily life. I could totally see how that would work.  Still, I did not convert to Greek paganism or any other type of paganism at that time.

My first realization of the running gods happened as spiritual revelations do to many people. I was in a time of great distress, climbing a particularly nasty hill, toward the end of an otherwise flat run.  I looked up on the hillside, and there in the bushes was ... well... a running god. He presented himself to me in the form of a metal statue. He had the body of a man and the head of a coyote, sort of like a scrap metal Anubis. Spontaneously a plea popped into my head "Please, hill god, get me to the top of this hill." Surprisingly I immediately felt light as a feather and within a minute had floated over the top of the hill. Well that hill became a part of my regular running route, and I was sure that as long as I paid homage to the god of the hill, I would make it to the top, and I did, for several years.  (I actually sent my son to photograph the hill god for this piece, but sadly, he has apparently moved on to another location. Maybe when I left there were no other runners there to help.)

After that, the running gods started subtly making their presence felt, most often on the trails. I remember one day in particular feeling a little uneasy on a run. I decided not to go further down the trail I was on and turned around. I felt like I had wings for the latter half of the run. A few days later I heard that the ranch below the trail I was running on had been attacked by a mountain lion and some livestock killed. I was pretty sure the trail gods had been watching over me.

As with any religion, understanding the gods helps one understand those unexplainable events in daily life. Why did I have that terrible race when I did so much training? Well I had obviously angered the running gods. Why did I PR at that marathon? Well obviously it was because I had made the necessary sacrifices to the gods of that particular event.  

Yes, I said "gods" because over time I found there was a whole pantheon of running gods, each with their own personality and demands, just like those Greek gods.  There are the track gods. Those are the most jealous of all the gods and demand the most in terms of sacrifice. Not only do they expect regular sacrifices, but also meaningful ones. If you aren't giving them every bit of energy and concentration, you are not worthy of their regard. They will accept nothing but a prime effort if you expect them to smile on you on race day.

The road gods also demand sacrifice, but they are more lenient in the type of sacrifices they will accept. They like constant attention and care more about the frequency of the sacrifice. If you are not paying homage to the road gods at least four times a week, you run serious risk of angering them if you aim too high on race day.

The trail gods are my personal favorites. They do demand  sacrifice, but they are a lot more lenient in what they will accept. They are the most social of the running gods and prefer followers with a more philosophical attitude. Their concern is that when you are paying homage to them that you appreciate their beauty and honor their fellow gods. They have work closely with several of the nature gods (weather, trees, rocks, hills, forests) and demand that you treat their friends well. If you take any of these gods for granted, trouble is soon to follow.

I have a friend, Kai, an ultra runner, who is a perfect illustration of the temperament of the trail gods. He trains like a beast. Seriously. Everyone who knows him knows the level of effort he puts into all facets of his training. However, by his own admission, every time he attempts a 100 miler the weather just goes to hell. He thinks it is just bad luck, but I know the problem. He trains a lot of his miles on the treadmill. The trail gods do reward him for his efforts with really outstanding finishes, but they can't resist messing with him just a little to remind him that "trails not treadmills" is the best approach. (It's their version of that whole "no other god before me thing," I think.) He may find himself in an icy stream midrace, bombarded by a thunderstorm at the start, or find himself trying not to lose a shoe in ankle-deep mud that has suddenly appeared on the course.  The trail gods are like that, generally benevolent but with a wicked sense of humor.

Like many deities, the running gods can be difficult to please. Unfortunately, there is no "Bible" for devout followers to study to avoid the wrath and punishment that comes with their displeasure. One learns the will of the running gods through trial and error. One thing I have learned for sure about the running gods is that there is no divine redemption. One cannot simply ask for forgiveness and be reinstated to a state of grace. A plea such as "Running god, I know I have been negligent in my training, but please let me PR this marathon," will fall on deaf ears. The running gods  believe in redemption through penance. If you have transgressed, you can put yourself back in their good graces, but it takes persistent work and sacrifice.

In case you think that these running gods are just a figment of my imagination, let me mention that even Running Times once published an article mentioning these gods and their role in injuries. A quick Google search will show several other runners who have mentioned the power, benevolence, or wrath of these gods.   One of my favorites is a pre-race prayer on a fellow runner's blog:

"So, Running Gods, please keep my feet from throbbing, my calves from cramping, my knees from aching, my tummy from churning, my chest from chafing, and my mind from straying from a positive outlook."

A similar prayer like this is a regular part of my pre-race routine. 

Well, since this is turning into a religious treatise rather than a blog post, I think I will wrap this up. I am sure insights from the running gods will continue to pop up occasionally in  my posts.

Just one last thing: Some of you may be wondering "what about the treadmill gods?" Well after many years of studying this question myself, I have finally concluded what all of us have suspected all along: On the treadmill, there is no god!