the morning shakeout | issue 493

A post-Boston brain dump, Sid Baptista bringing running to the people, avoiding stupidity instead of seeking brilliance, and a lot more.

This is what course-record pace looks like.

Good morning! I wrote this week’s newsletter last night on a late flight home from Boston, feeling pretty fried after a long day (weekend, really). What follows here is a bit of a stream-of-consciousness brain dump that I hope is somewhat insightful—or at the very least, coherent.

The extent of the attention I paid to the elite races at yesterday’s Boston Marathon includes watching them run past me in Newton, quickly scanning the results after getting back to the hotel, and skimming a few articles on the flight last night, and that’s it. That’s not because I didn’t find them exciting (they most certainly were!) but more due to the fact that most of my attention and energy was on the 16 athletes I had competing. (All that to say, I’ll have more to share about the performances at the front of the field in next week’s issue.)

I was able to catch most of my crew at the firehouse turn just past Mile 17, where I posted up for the second year in a row. It’s a critical point in the race, a long way in but with quite a bit of running still to go. And while the splits I’m watching on the tracker let me know where everyone is relative to their goal pace, seeing the looks on their faces and observing body language provides some crucial context heading into some of the toughest miles of the course. A head down at that point isn’t a great sign, but a quick glance followed by a thumbs up or a little wave tells me they’re doing OK and rationing their reserves well. A smile and a little excitement is good, too much stoke tends to worry me. There’s not a whole lot I can do from a coaching perspective but just being there to provide some encouragement or a useful cue as they’re getting into the belly of the beast can sometimes go a long way.

Beyond that all I can do is hope. Hope that they can keep running strong up and over the hills. Hope that they can work through the bad patches if/when any arise. Hope that their stomachs cooperate the rest of the way. Hope that cramps don’t slow them down or stop them altogether. Hope that they’re keeping their heads in it and making good decisions. Hope that they’re taking it all in because it is Boston, after all.

After leaving Newton, the rest of the afternoon was a bit of a whirlwind, hustling back downtown while refreshing the tracker and trying to get in touch with people after they finished. Amongst my crew we had a few really great days, a bunch of pretty solid ones, some gritty efforts that didn’t quite match the goals we set, and a couple that just went sideways for one reason or another. But that’s Boston for you. Everyone puts a lot into it, but not everyone gets a fair return on their investment.

The aftermath of a day like yesterday is an emotional tug-of-war for me. There’s no greater thrill than to share in the excitement of a long-held goal that’s met or exceeded, or to hear how someone rallied after a few tough miles to close it out with a strong finish; on the other side of the rope, there’s no worse feeling than sifting through the disappointment of a day that didn’t go to plan, whether it was due to a tactical mistake, a shit set of circumstances, or reasons we haven’t been able to pinpoint just yet. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that it’s all part of the deal but man, this sport is so hard. As an athlete, it asks a lot of you—physically, mentally, emotionally—and despite your best efforts and intentions, it still might not work out. As a coach, you're not just managing splits and strategy. You’re holding space for the joy and the heartbreak, the satisfaction and the frustration, all of it.

One thing I try to remember, and reminded a few of my athletes of yesterday after the race, is that the outcome—good, bad, or ugly—never tells the full story. The effort matters. How you respond when things aren’t going your way matters. What you learn matters. And having the courage to care so deeply about something that you’re willing to give it everything you’ve got, knowing full well there’s a chance that it might not pay off at the end of the day, matters most of all.

Quick Splits

— One of my favorite people in the running industry is Sid Baptista, and I was thrilled to read this profile of him by

Raziq Rauf

in his newsletter last week. Sid, who I had a great conversation with for the morning shakeout podcast a few years ago, is best known as the founder of the Pioneers Run Crew and the PYNRS apparel brand, as well as 26.TRUE, an unsanctioned marathon that took place this past Saturday entirely in the city of Boston. He’s on a mission to bring running to people and places that have historically been left out of the conversation—focusing on community, culture, and accessibility every step of the way. “Ever since I left my hood at 14, my whole goal has been to bring the experiences that I have back to my people,” he explains. “So when I found running? I brought it to my people. Once we take over running, [if we] give our culture over to these brands, we’re never going to own anything. We already do this, so let’s put a company in front of it.”

— “I’m always second to her,” Sharon Lokedi said of Hellen Obiri after yesterday’s Boston Marathon. “And today I was like, ‘No way.’” Abbey Levene recaps a few things you need to know about yesterday’s pro races for Outside Run.

— “It’s not a 2:04:58 day with my shoes. But with your shoes, it is.” This is what Ryan Hall, who ran 2:04:58 at Boston in 2011, told Conner Mantz yesterday morning in Hopkinton before the race, according to Jonathan Gault at letsrun.com. (Mantz ran 2:05:08 to finish 4th, the same place as Hall 14 years ago.)

— Here’s Chester Bennington, who was the lead vocalist of Linkin Park until his untimely passing in 2017, with an acoustic cover of Adele’s “Rollin’ In The Deep.” Trust me when I tell you it’s really, really, really f*cking good.

— From the archives (Issue 180, 6 years ago this week): Avoiding Stupidity is Easier than Seeking Brilliance. I may have shared this piece here before but if so, there’s no harm in pushing it out again. Whether it’s running, work, business, or just your day-to-day doings, the key to sustained success is, as billionaire investor Charlie Munger puts it, “trying to be consistently not stupid, instead of trying to be very intelligent.” Or, in other words, avoiding mistakes instead of aiming for perfection will get you a lot further in many aspects of your life. Think about it: How many times, in an effort to get things exactly right—for example, checking off all the boxes in your scheduled training plan—have you come up short, when avoiding simple mistakes along the way (e.g., running through illness, or not taking enough time off after a marathon) would have eventually gotten you where you wanted to go?

— My partners at Precision Fuel and Hydration recently added a couple new banger articles to their already extensive Knowledge Hub—5 Common Marathon Fueling Mistakes (And How to Avoid Them!) and How To Fuel Your Marathon—that are worth reading, bookmarking, and sharing with all your friends. They both feature a fair amount of history and background, loads of research and data, and easy-to-digest advice from PF&H’s team of sports scientists. They pair well with Precision’s new Energy Chew Bars, which pack 60 grams of carbs into a small package that’s as easy to carry as it is to stomach. I’ve been testing them out for a few weeks now and they’ve become a go-to before key sessions when I know I’ll be burning hot. (And if you’re interested in trying the new chews, or any other PF&H products for yourself, check out this link and save 15% off your first order.)

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A big thank you to Tracksmith for supporting my work in 2025. My favorite new shoe of the year so far is their recently released Eliot Racer, which combines a carbon plate with a soft yet supportive drop-in midsole for a fast, responsive, and stylish ride. (Men’s sizes here, women’s sizes here.) I’ve been running in it pretty regularly for over a month now and it I love it for intervals on the track as much as I do a tempo on the roads: it has an accommodating upper for my fat forefoot, a midsole combination that provides awesome comfort and pop underfoot, and a sleek aesthetic that stands out amongst a class of shoes that often looks overbuilt. Every detail was thoughtfully considered. If you pick up a pair of Eliot Racers, or buy anything on Tracksmith.com between now and the end of May for that matter, use the code “MarioSpring” for $20 off an order of $100 or more. (Note: the code is good for one use between now and the end of May.)

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Workout of the Week: The 4 x 4

Seeing a handful of mid-range repeats at a hard effort on the training schedule is the type of workout that will keep some runners up at night—and for good reason! The hard truth is these types of sessions really sting and you can’t fake your way through ’em. (n.b. This was me in college when we had repeat Ks or 1200s on tap!) If you’re doing them right, they’ll set your legs and lungs on fire, make you breathe rather erratically, and leave you bent over with your hands on your knees when you’re finished. (If this sounds terrible, the good news is you don’t have to do this type of workout more than once a week, or even every other week, to reap the benefits.) The 4 x 4 is a simple and straightforward workout that will launch your fitness to a new level, but you will have to earn it. Here are the details.

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The bottom line. 

“It is impossible for peace to exist without dialogue. All the wars, all the strife, all the unsolved problems over which we clash are due to a lack of dialogue. When there is a problem, talk: this makes peace.”

— Pope Francis, who passed away yesterday at the age of 88, sharing advice that has stood the test of time. (I’m not religious, but I believe Francis was a good, humble, and well-intentioned man. May he rest easy.)

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That’s it for Issue 493. Enjoying the shakeout? Please do me a solid and forward this email to someone else who might also appreciate it. (And if you’re seeing this newsletter for the first time and want to receive it for yourself first thing every Tuesday morning, you can subscribe right here.)

Thanks for reading,

Mario