the morning shakeout | issue 504
Experiencing mild elation, why BS optimization culture metrics are making us fragile, a DIY threshold session to try, and a lot more.
Good morning! In his Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir Barbarian Days, which is one of my favorite books and has been referenced in this newsletter countless times over the past 10 years, William Finnegan writes about surfing: “Sometimes it was mild elation. Often it was a pleasant melancholy.” That line has stuck with me because that’s exactly how I feel about running most of the time. For me, running is rarely this euphoric experience; more often than not it’s a reflective act that leaves me feeling quietly satisfied. And, if I’m being totally honest, every once in a while it just sucks, but thankfully those days are pretty rare too.
This past Saturday, while running by myself up, around, and down the mountain behind our house, I had one of those “mild elation” type of days where it just felt like things were clicking and I was floating and flowing with the trail rather than fighting it or just grinding through the miles. I’ve never surfed a day in my life, but I imagine this is what Finnegan meant when he talked about catching the right wave. It’s an elusive feeling that I know better than to try and chase, but I’ve also learned to appreciate it when it finds me. (I even let out an audible “hell yeah” when I successfully ripped a descent I hadn’t opened it up on in a while.)
Anyway, it was one of the most energizing runs I’ve had in recent memory and a good reminder that the secret to experiencing occasional elation comes down to regular repetition. Whether it’s catching waves or logging miles or whatever it is that you like to do, just keep getting out there.
Quick Splits
—
, who won the Western States 100 two Saturdays ago in 14 hours and 11 minutes, the second-fastest time in race history, wrote about his experience and it’s a must-read. This is an incredible piece of writing that’s honest, thorough, and tinged with humor, but it isn’t rambly or overwhelming as is the case with many race reports. (Especially ultra ones—no offense, my far-running friends!) Olson takes us inside his head and pulls no punches in describing what was both a physically punishing and emotionally charged experience. “This is so different from last year. Exact opposite. Instead of pushing and hunting and feeling strong, I’m crashing and burning and why am I even doing this,” he writes. “Against all odds, Anthony has talked me into running a solid pace up to Green Gate and we’ve maintained a good gap. I snag Jacob as my next pacer, my pit crew works their magic, and I’m back out on slightly shady, gently rolling, perfectly buffed out singletrack. The type of trail I should be able to rip. Instead, just out of view from the aid station, I stop and walk. I tell Jacob I’m going to end up in the hospital after this one.”— I’m not even going to attempt to recap everything worth revisiting from the Pre Classic on Saturday but I will tell you to go watch (or rewatch) the women’s 5000m, the Bowerman Mile, and the women’s 1500m, not because a couple world records got broken, but because they were all exciting races that showcased what makes this sport so damn exciting in the first-place: gutsy competition, a raucous crowd, and drama until the final stride. At risk of ruining the aforementioned for you, does it get much better than three women coming into the bell lap of the 5000m together on world-record pace, or Yared Nuguse running a gutsy race from gun-to-tape only to lose it by less than an inch, or watching Jessica Hull attach herself to Faith Kipyegon for 1200m before the GOAT turned on the afterburners en route to breaking her own world record? I think not. (And I can’t help but wonder if Pre Classic organizers read last week’s issue of the shakeout when deciding just a couple days before the meet to make the women’s 1500m the final event.)
— You can call me out for confirmation bias if you want, but I loved this recent article from
about how readiness scores and other bullshit optimization culture metrics are making us fragile and inhibiting our ability to perform in just about every area of our lives. As I’ve shared here more times than I can count, including as recently as just a few weeks ago: We are not programmable robots. That doesn’t mean data isn’t important, but data alone (especially algorithmically-driven blackbox “scores”) shouldn’t drive our day-to-day decisions in regard to training, work, how we show up at home, etc. We human beings are messy, complicated creatures. Trying to chase the “perfect” readiness/sleep/training stress/etc. score, or obsessing over whether today is green, yellow, or red on your app of choice can actually disconnect your brain from what your body is actually trying to tell you. So instead of outsourcing your decision-making to a single meaningless data point, identify a few key metrics to use as regular points of reference so you can monitor trends, identify discrepancies, and learn to rely on your own internal gauge of effort. Finally, try to get comfortable with things being less than “optimal,” and trust yourself to make adjustments when necessary. “A big difference between the optimization influencer types and actual elite performers is that the former are obsessed with wearables, data, and numbers,” he writes, “whereas the latter have learned to control what they can control, and not freak out about the rest.”— They’re not a sponsor of the morning shakeout but shoutout to Roll Recovery for continuing to crush it with their “Dig Deeper” video series on YouTube. The latest with Cole Hocker is really well done and gives as good of a glimpse at the person behind the gold medal-winning athlete as I’ve seen. It was interesting to hear Hocker talk about dealing with the newfound pressures of being the Olympic champion, as well as resetting the goal posts after achieving the accomplishment of a lifetime, what he describes as “finding the inner peace that’s not subjected to race results.” Also noteworthy is listening to Hocker talk about getting to the next workout feeling as good as he possibly can, i.e., being diligent about checking the boxes from the standpoint of nutrition, self-treatment, recovery, etc., after finishing a run. Now granted this is Hocker’s full-time job so he doesn’t have any excuses not to do these things, but I think the applicable takeaway here for us non-professional athletes is: Identify three pieces of figurative low-hanging fruit that will set you up well for tomorrow. In my experience, carving out 5 minutes for pre-and post-run mobility, remembering to drink water regularly throughout the day, and making sure you have a snack at the ready after your workout will take you a long way. Back to the video: There’s also a bit of woo-woo pseudoscience in there that even Hocker himself doesn’t seem all that sure of, so I hope people don’t get too hung up on the contrast therapy for “blood flow” or standing barefoot on the grass to rid his body of “radicals.” [It’s ridiculous that I even have to say that, but, yeah.] My favorite part of the whole thing, however, is when Hocker’s teammate and training partner, Cooper Teare, talks about how competitive he is. He shares a story from a training camp last year, when the two of them were playing a game of “21” and Hocker was down by a few points. “I could see [the fire] in his eyes,” Teare said. “And it was terrifying. Everything he does, he has to be the best at.”
— I’m not sure how I hadn’t seen Limp Bizkit and John Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls covering Pink Floyd’s "Wish You Were Here" until just a couple days ago but holy shit, it’s powerful. This acoustic performance, which took place at the 9/11 Tribute Concert in 2001, is incredibly moving and emotional. The way Fred Durst sings, “We just need your help, so glad you're here,” while looking into the camera at around the 3-minute mark has given me chills every time I’ve watched it.
— From the archives (Issue 296, 4 years ago this week: “I grew up with an optimist, and I married an optimist, but even the sunniest human being is barely more than a neophyte where hope is concerned,” Margaret Renkl writes for The New York Times. “In any household, the true master of hope is the family dog.” I am rather unapologetically that guy who believes dogs can do no wrong but I never thought of our favorite furry friends as beacons of hope until reading this essay. I immediately thought of our dog Tahoe, whose almost every action is driven by the hope that something good is coming—or will go—his way.
I’m stoked to share that my partners at Tracksmith recently announced the launch of Tracksmith Stamata, a women’s marathon team led by 8-time Olympic trials qualifier, Stephanie Bruce. The team, which is dedicated to supporting aspiring female athletes in their pursuit of qualifying for the 2028 U.S. marathon team trials, will provide hands-on support, mentorship, and resources such as gear, travel stipends, nutrition, sports science and sports psych support, and more to empower the next generation of women marathoners in their journey to the starting line. I was curious about the name “Stamata” and learned that at the starting line of the Athens Games in 1896 a Greek woman named Stamata Revithi was denied a chance to run with the field of men. The next day, she ran the full course alone, finishing in 5 hours, 30 minutes, and she’s believed to be the first woman to complete the marathon distance. Pretty cool! Tracksmith is encouraging American women who have run under 1:17 in the half-marathon or 2:42 in the marathon to apply. (And if you’re close but not quite there, make your case anyway!) To learn more and/or apply, check out this link.
Workout of the Week: DIY Threshold Session
No matter what you’re training for, there’s a place in your program for a threshold run. This workout, for simplicity’s sake, can be boiled down to maintaining a steady effort (think: half-marathon pace) for a prolonged period of time, usually between 20-40 minutes. It’s effective at helping to strengthen your aerobic base, dialing in race pace if you’re training for longer distances, and improving focus and confidence in general. But it’s not easy! That’s why early in a training cycle, or if an athlete just isn’t that fit and/or motivated yet, I’ll let them “make their own” threshold run, i.e. breaking up the 20-40 minutes of work however they’d like with a short break to reset between repetitions. Here are the details.
The bottom line.
“It is perplexing to wonder why we ever leave the here and now. Here and now are the only place and time when one ever enjoys himself or accomplishes anything. Most of our suffering takes place when we allow our minds to imagine the future or mull over the past. Nonetheless, few people are ever satisfied with what is before them at the moment. Our desire that things be different from what they are pulls our minds into an unreal world, and consequently we are less able to appreciate what the present has to offer. Our minds leave the reality of the present only when we prefer the unreality of the past or future.”
— W. Timothy Gallwey, The Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance (n.b. I neither play nor follow tennis, but this is one of the best books on performance that I’ve ever read.)
That’s it for Issue 504. Please forward this email, share the web link, and reply or comment at your own risk.
Thanks for reading,
Mario
as always very well written...smoth as butter
Wow! That cover of Wish You Were Here — amazeballs. Never saw that coming from Fred Durst. Can’t get enough.