Mind over matter?

I like to think of myself as a pretty rational person. Although I'm certain that my female brain is sometimes guided more by emotion than logic, I tend to think like a scientist (which I am, after all, if only by education). It's in my nature to analyze a situation in light of a myriad of factors and moving variables, and yes, this sometimes traps me in analysis paralysis. My days are usually planned out well in advance: what I'll be doing and when, who I'll be seeing and where, what I'll be eating and when I'll prepare it, and what miles I'll log in the park or at the gym. Menus with too many choices freak me out; impromptu dinner invitations don't fit well into my scheduled "fun time." I prefer to have access to spreadsheets and hard data whenever possible -- just the other night, for example, I built a spreadsheet to analyze my travel options for mixing airfares and reward points for a trip home this summer, thus allowing me to calculate the "worth" of my reward points in each scenario. I rarely, if ever, make gut-level decisions.

This constant need to collect and analyze data definitely extends to my running. Since I took up running with some regularity and seriousness in 2004, I have recorded my every mile, pace, and, usually, heart rate (average, max, and sometimes resting) in an online training log. (I tend to leave the HR monitor at home when not training for a specific event. The first few runs without it are full of separation anxiety, but I've found that, surprisingly, sometimes I actually do enjoy running more without it! Go figure!) Furthermore, I typically don't have just the current round of training data open on my computer at any one time. Rather, I leave open every round of training data for my last three or four races (sometimes stretching back three years) so that I can quickly jump between them and compare how I'm improving (or not). As you can imagine, this plethora of data gives me much to pour over and analyze. Where was my HR on a similar run last year? How many hours of sleep did I average that week? How much does my pace decrease with every 10 mph increase in wind speed?

It's 24 days before my race, and I can't help but compare my current speeds/HRs/recovery rates to those from a comparable point in my training last year. And lately, what I've been finding hasn't been too encouraging. In March 2008, I ran a PR at the Virginia Beach Shamrock Marathon and, as noted in a previous post, I am hoping to set another PR at this year's Mississauga Marathon. I'm doing a bit more strength training and have been delighted to find that my hill repeats and, sometimes, interval speeds, have improved slightly this year. But a closer look at the data has revealed that, on an average run that doesn't involve sprinting repeatedly up Harlem Hill or around the Jackie Onassis Reservoir, my pace and HR are not much better than 14 months ago! I would imagine that an 11 mile Monday run or a 22 mile practice race is a much better indicator of my marathon potential than a 250 m dash up a hill. And if those runs haven't witnessed much improvement, is it realistic of me to aim for a PR? Am I setting myself up for major disappointment?

Setting aside lack of ability, one of the reasons I know that I could never be a successful competitive athlete is that I cannot say aloud, with certainty, "I am going to win" (or at least what a "win" would be to me, i.e., setting a new PR). I am always amazed when I hear the Paula Radcliffes and Kara Gouchers of the world announce, to the media no less, their intentions to win the NYC or Boston marathons! How bold! Aren't they just setting themselves and everyone else up for disappointment? Wouldn't they be better off saying that they've trained hard and hope to perform well, and then be pleasantly surprised if it actually translates into a first place finish? As it turns out, the answer is "no." Part of being a successful athlete is to truly believe that you can, and will, win. I'm not sure if sports are 50/50 physical/mental, but I don't deny (or at least, I've read enough studies to convince me) that the brain can be a powerful training tool.

Nevertheless, it's simply never been my tendency to make such affirmations to myself or others. And while secretly I hope that everything will come together beautifully on race day to help me achieve my goals, I'd rather consult the data to determine what's realistically possible. After all, in a marathon, the worst thing is to go out too hard at a pace that's simply unmanageable over 26.2 miles, because somewhere around 20 miles the proverbial "wall" is encountered, and the last six miles can end up taking as long as the first ten. So isn't it better that I think rationally and scientifically about this, and determine in advance the pace that my body can tolerate on race day? Is it enough to want to do really well? Will my brain carry me those last six miles when my legs no longer can? I'm still thinking about these questions as I count down the days to my race. (And as a careful reader will observe, I'm still not quite ready to reveal my PR goal.)