the morning shakeout | issue 500
Reflecting on 500 issues, separating identity and sense of self-worth from your results, hard work as the tuition for a life worth having, and a lot more.
Good morning! If you had told me 500 weeks ago that I’d still be sending out this newsletter every Tuesday, that over 13,000 people would be reading it regularly, that I would have written nearly a million words of copy, and that it would become a significant part of how I make my living, I would’ve told you to go fly a kite. None of that was in the plan. I didn’t have a plan. I still don’t have one in a lot of ways, aside from the fact that every Monday I know I’ll sit down to write about things I’ve experienced, thought about, observed, read, watched, or listened to that I can provide further insight on and/or have affected me in some way.
What started in late 2015 as a creative itch that I needed to scratch, a way to write about topics that I couldn’t at my day job as senior editor of Competitor magazine, has evolved into a consistent practice that’s helped me to better understand myself, connect with other people (i.e., all of you!), and generally try to make sense of some of the shit that’s floating around in my head.
Early on, and for about the first six years of the morning shakeout’s existence, I shared a lot of opinions about goings on in the sport and industry: doping scandals, marketing stunts, dumb decisions, stupid statements, media trends, top performances, sponsorship shakeups, coaching changes—you name it, I probably wrote about it, even ranted on occasion, and I stand by all of it. I have, and still have, an informed perspective on a lot of this stuff and much of what I wrote generated meaningful dialogue, brought in new readers, and regularly delivered me hits of digital dopamine.
I eventually did grow tired of it all, however, and the mostly self-imposed pressure to have a take on whatever notable thing was happening in the running world wore me down to the point where it wasn’t enjoyable. I told Christine on multiple occasions that I was going to quit. (Thankfully, she wouldn’t let me.) The straw that broke the camel’s back was in mid-2021 when it was announced that Shelby Houlihan tested positive for nandrolone and was given a four-year suspension from the Athletics Integrity Unit. This happened on a Monday afternoon and I removed, rearranged, and rewrote a good chunk of Issue 292 to get out my initial thoughts on the situation. I told myself people were going to be wondering what I had to say so I ended up staying up until the wee hours of Tuesday morning to fulfill the obligation I felt to my readers, the greater running community, or, if I’m being totally honest, most likely my own ego. And when I hit publish at 2 AM or whatever time it was, I didn’t feel satisfied or proud—I just felt drained. That issue of the newsletter generated a lot of discussion and quite a few replies, but did it provide any lasting value? The short answer is no, not really. A week or two later no one cared that much anymore. That moment marked a turning point for me. I decided that I didn’t need to have an opinion about everything, or anything at all really, and if trying to have one was going to make me miserable then it wasn’t worth it.
So, I recalibrated and recommitted to what has always brought me the most enjoyment and fulfillment: putting my own spin on things, sharing what I’ve learned through my experiences, and connecting with people on a personal level. It’s my hope that no matter which issue you open—whether it’s the latest one or whatever I wrote 397 weeks ago—you’ll find something of timeless value in it. Writing this newsletter is my favorite thing that I do every week. It’s also been a constant companion through some of the ups and downs of life—a great race at the 2018 Boston Marathon, experiencing burnout in 2019, the passing of Gabe Grunewald, welcoming Tahoe into our family, the passing of my dear Nana Fraioli, turning 40, the duality of Mother’s Day, to name a few—and I’m incredibly grateful for that. I love getting replies from you, my loyal readers, and I’m proud to say that over the past 10 years I’ve responded to everyone who’s ever taken the time to send me a note—even if there’s a long delay on my end.
All that said, there are plenty of weeks when I don’t feel like writing or have much to say, more weeks than not when the words don’t come easy, and, pretty much every week I wonder if this is the one where it all goes to shit. There have been more late Monday nights than I care to admit (a lot less so now than early on), untimely power outages that tested my patience, some spousal stress (all my fault, for the record), and myriad other challenges here and there. I’ve written this newsletter from five different countries and at least ten states; on vacation and a few hours after finishing marathons; at my desk and kitchen tables; on planes, trains, and in automobiles; in quiet hotel rooms, crowded lobbies and on empty patios; at noisy coffee shops, and on more couches than I can count. I keep showing up because at this point I don’t know any different (or better). This is just what I do every week.
The past 500 weeks have been a wild ride. When I started the morning shakeout, personality driven running-themed newsletters weren’t really a thing. Substack, Beehiiv, Ghost, Kit, Buttondown, and the myriad options we now have for sending email newsletters didn’t exist. Brand partnerships weren’t on anyone’s radar, including my own. It’s kind of crazy to look back and appreciate how it’s all evolved, both for me and the morning shakeout, and the newsletter space in general.
As I reflect upon this journey, or project, or whatever you want to call it, I’m blown away that something which started as a creative itch that I needed to scratch has grown into a meaningful weekly ritual—not just for me, but for so many of you as well. Time and attention are two of life’s most valuable resources and I don’t take it for granted that you choose to give me a little of yours every Tuesday. I’m incredibly humbled and grateful. Thank you.
My right-hand man Chris Douglas and I recently recorded a special episode of the podcast about the newsletter’s 500th issue, a writer’s commentary if you will. You can listen to it wherever you subscribe to the morning shakeout podcast, or at this handy link.
Quick Splits
— If there were ever an essay that encapsulates how I try to approach writing this newsletter, my training and racing, and life in general, this is it. “In an era wound tight with urgency, Journalism is the horse we forgot how to ride,” Mark Robichaux wrote recently for The New York Times about the Preakness-winning racehorse. “He did not chase the breakneck pace. He moved with patience, let the chaos pass and proved capable of charging through gaps no wider than a saddle horn.”
— Every week I spend several hours trying to further my education as a coach. I’ve paid for various online membership-based communities, courses, and continuing education platforms that I’ve found value in (Fast Talk Labs’ The Craft of Coaching, ALTIS Connect, and The Scholar Program are amongst my favorites) and I’m always reading books and articles about physiology, psychology, leadership, and related topics. But by far my favorite (and most effective) way to learn and absorb knowledge is by way of conversation, i.e., talking to other coaches, both privately as well as publicly on my podcast, and also by listening to other podcasts with coaches and practitioners that have been around the block a few times. One of my favorites is “The Real Science of Sport Podcast” and this episode with guest Paddy Upton on “The Science of Mind Coaching in Sport” I just listened to for the second time so that I could take more notes. Upton works with a wide range of high-level performers in arenas from cricket to chess to boxing to hockey. He hit on a number of different topics in the episode but the most interesting to me was when he spoke about how the best athletes he’s worked with aren’t desperate to win. They’ve successfully separated their identity and sense of self-worth from their results, which allows them to perform at their best, especially in high-consequence situations. “So preparation, perfect preparation is absolutely critical in order to deliver at the highest level, but that's not enough. But without that, it's random—you go in with hope as opposed to confidence,” he explains. “But then it's spending time understanding who I am as a human being and how will I live my life? If I win, how will I manage myself? If I lose, how will I manage myself? And can I be okay? And very much the same person with the same values and operating the same way if I become world champion or things go really badly. And by doing that work, it decreases the amount of pressure that individual feels because they want to win, but they're not desperate to win. So there's no performance pressure anymore, very little performance pressure. And also they've made peace with the fact that if I fail and people criticize me and say bad things about me, I'm OK enough with myself that that's not going to overly worry me.”
— This short post by exercise scientist Brady Holmer summarizes the key takeaways from this updated review of “The 4Rs Framework of Sports Nutrition,” which provides recommendations to evaluate and address allostatic load (i.e. cumulative physiological stress) in athletes. The 4R Framework of Sports Nutrition—Rehydration, Refuel, Repair, Recuperate—is easy to understand and implement, and can have profound impacts on how well you absorb and bounce back from big efforts. None of this is rocket science, just sound, solid, evidence-based advice. Give it a look and make sure you’re checking the big boxes before you drop another dime on any recovery-related products that may or may not move the needle a fraction of an inch.
— To continue hammering on a theme I hit on regularly here, including in last week’s issue, check out this essay I came across by a person named Maalvika (no idea if that’s a first name, last name, or pseudonym) that argues real fulfillment in life comes not from ease or enthusiasm or following your passion, but from dancing with uncertainty, welcoming what she calls “necessary friction,” and putting in intentional effort over and over and over again. “Ultimately, here's what I think we should tell young people about work: it will be harder than you expect and more rewarding than you can imagine, sometimes on the same day,” she writes. “You will have moments of doubt, periods of frustration, and projects that fail despite your best efforts! You will also have breakthroughs that justify months of struggle, relationships that sustain you through difficult seasons, and the quiet satisfaction of competence earned through repetition. We owe young people the truth: hard work isn't the tax you pay for living, it's the tuition for a life worth having.” (This reminds me of one of my training principles for running, which I borrowed from Duke women’s basketball coach Kara Lawson: Learn how to handle hard better.)
— One of my favorite song openings of all-time is the first 45 seconds or so of Styx’ 1978 classic, Renegade. I’m not musically inclined enough to explain it on a technical level but I just love the evolution of the a capella opening into the screaming of “Yeah!” followed by an influx of instrumentals and a faster tempo. It’s pretty unique how the energy builds, almost like a rocket launch. Anyway, my new favorite YouTube channel, The Song, released this recent rendition of Renegade a month ago and it’s awesome. (It’s perfect listening before a fast workout!)
— From the archives (Issue 1, 499 weeks ago): The Reasons Why Writers Run: It should come as no surprise that this article from The Atlantic caught my eye given the melding of my personal and professional interests, and it’s been oddly satisfying for me to think about the parallels between running and writing in my own life. When I started running in high school, I wanted to win races, and in order to do so I knew I had to train hard. Training to race isn’t always fun, but I know it’s a necessary step toward achieving my constantly evolving goals. I approach writing in much the same way these days. In order to become a better writer and produce stuff people enjoy reading (like this newsletter, a magazine article or my next book), I need to practice regularly or I’ll get rusty. Like training for a race, writing is often a painstaking process that, while rewarding at times, isn’t always exciting. And no different than running, the writing process is perpetual in its very nature. Just as there will always be new races and fresh goals to keep runners excited and motivated, writers are always dreaming about the next article, book or project to pursue. Both running and writing—perhaps two of the most overly romanticized activities on the planet—are hard work. At the end of the day, you have to commit to waking up the next morning and getting it done. As Nick Ripatrazone so accurately puts it in his article, “Writers, like runners, often like the idea of their pursuit more so than the difficult work.”
— Last Friday, Christine woke me up at 5 AM (she was getting ready to go to swimming practice) to tell me that Ali Feller had posted on Instagram that she has Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer that had spread to her bones. I honestly thought it was some kind of strange nightmare I was waking up from, but it was not. It also hit me that it was nearly two years to the day that Ali shared her initial diagnosis, which made it all the more trippy. I’m not really sure what else to say right now so I’ll just echo what I wrote back in Issue 396: Drop Ali a line on Instagram (@aliontherun1), leave a review for her podcast, support her work on Patreon, or simply dedicate a few miles to her this week. She starts chemotherapy today and the road ahead is going to be a long one. Let's make sure she feels supported every step of the way.
I’ve been running in Tracksmith’s new Meridian Shorts for a few weeks now and they’re pretty dang sweet. These 3” splits are made for summer and, as I wrote on Strava a few weeks ago, they feel like freedom. Plus they have 8 pockets (yes, you read that correctly!) and a subtle shirt loop on the back that adds to their versatility and utility. If you want to try something from the new Meridian Collection, or pick up anything on Tracksmith.com between now and the end of June for that matter, use the code “MORNINGSHAKEOUT20” for $20 off an order of $100 or more. (Note: the code is good for one use between now and the end of June.)
Workout of the Week: The Tempo Sandwich
I’ve always believed that to run your best half-marathon you should be in really good 10K shape—and if you’re in ripping 10K shape, you should be able to run a pretty solid half-marathon. There’s a lot of overlap in the type of work required for success in both, specifically when it comes to longer intervals and tempo runs. This workout, which is designed to be repeated a few times over the course of a training block, combines these two essential training elements and can be manipulated any number of ways depending on what you want to get out of it. Here are the details.
The bottom line.
“True, running does not fill my day. But it influences the rest of what I do and how I do it. From it comes my role and the style in which I play it. In it I find myself and my design. I start in play, use myself increasingly, and end in joy.”
— Dr. George Sheehan in the chapter entitled “Playing” from Running & Being: The Total Experience (first published in 1978), which I started rereading last week. This particular excerpt resonated deeply with me.
That’s it for Issue 500. Please forward it to a few friends, post the web link all over the internet, or reply to me directly at your own risk.
Thanks for reading,
Mario
Can't really explain why (even to myself) but the first part of your reflections really hit a spot in my brain - at a time when business is pretty messy, it made a difference so thanks Mario
Amazing! Congrats, Mario!