Challenge Rejected: Saying "No" to Competition

I received a challenge yesterday.  The race director of the RunTheBluegrass Half Marathon offered a $5 discount to next year’s race to anyone who outruns him in this year’s Bluegrass 10,000.

I’ve been debating whether to come back to Lexington for the BG 10k this year, and this isn’t making the decision any easier.  The challenger is boasting a predicted finishing time of 45:00, which seems like a pretty good goal for me to shoot for.  But it’s a little more complicated than that.

Anyone who ran high school track or cross country knows that the goal of these races is to win the race, or at least beat as many other runners as you can.  Cross country is scored in a way that allows five runners on a team to score points, based on their finishing position, and two other runners to contribute but beating opponents, thus hurting the opposition’s score.  It doesn’t matter whether you finish 1 minute or 1 second in front of him, beating an opponent helps your team.

When I had the privilege of hearing marathon gold medalist Frank Shorter speak at the Rock ‘n’ Roll New Orleans expo, he speculated that the Olympic Trials and the Olympic games are the two races in which a runner has to stay with the lead pack in order to have a chance to win.  In other races, it may be possible, even at the elite level, to run at a pre-determined pace, but in those to races, any runner hoping for a victory absolutely has to stay with the lead pack and compete against those runners.

But for the 99%, the rules change after high school or college.  Running is no longer a team sport, and there are no longer any opponents to beat.

As the average runners, we have the luxury of being able to compete against ourselves.  Ourselves and no one else.  We don’t have to worry about any front-runners setting a blistering pace, or anyone drafting off of us, waiting to sprint ahead in the final stretch.  It is a silent competition between our body and the course.  And perhaps the clock, if we choose to allow a third entrant.

We know our opponents, we study them devoutly.  We track their progress through mile logs, Garmin times, heart-rate monitors, and empty GU packets.  This is healthy reflection.  “Nosce te ipsum.”  Know thyself.  Our limits and strengths do not come from anyone else, they come from within.

We do not fritter away our thoughts on the potential of someone whom we cannot control.  Nor do we desire to control our competitors.  When I compete against a running buddy in a race or sometimes in a friendly training run, I admit that I do want to run faster.  But not necessarily faster than him or her, just faster.  “Citius, Altius, Fortius”.  In fact, I like to see my closest running friends smoke me sometimes, because I know that if they can find that extra speed, I can find it, too.  I don’t compete against them, I compete with them.

This is the feeling that we, the average runners, are privileged to revel in.  We need concern ourselves only with our own strength, technique, and drive.  And the rewards of a valiant effort against our own fears and doubts are as good as gold.

I will admit that I have thought about the competition.  When I wrote y first race review of the Marshall University Marathon, I mused that had I gone out slower, I may have avoided quadricep failure, and possibly taken 3^rd in my age group.  I did think briefly about registering for the race this year, despite my terrible review of the race, in hopes of medaling.  However, the report concluded with my (albeit reluctant at the time) affirmation that I would not race for the medal.  If I do enter in the future, I will reach my target time or, once again, burn out trying and then limp home.

As I wrote in an earlier post, we all have our own reasons for running.  By the same token, we all have our same reasons for racing.  Some race for the time, some race for the tech-shirt, some race for the post-race alcohol, and some do race for the win.  The latter, however, are professionals, and their jobs are to beat competitors.  But for the rest of us, racing can be something more.  Steve Prefontaine said that, “I race to see who has the most guts.”  While I will always admire the man, I don’t care about the contents of his insides; just my own.

This is not to say that I’ve made up my mind about entering the Bluegrass 10,000.  But if I do run, I will be running to break 45:00.  And I wish speedy times and satisfying performances to all other runners.