What is time, other than just grains in an hourglass? It governs how we live our daily lives, and it certainly plays a major role in an athlete's training. I'm always thinking about how long I'm training every day, and how long it takes me to cover a certain distance. But I'm starting to wonder, is time overrated? Is there something better out there than just a few numbers?
Yesterday I went for a recovery run, and I made the awful mistake of running a route that I know very, very well. When I hit the stop button on my watch, I already knew what pace I had run without having to calculate anything. I kept telling myself that the run had to be slow, in order to achieve the desired effect: recovery. And it was. It was exactly the pace I wanted it to be. But for some reason, it really bothered me that I had run a relatively short run THAT slow. I am new to the world of "proper" training; in my first years as a distance runner, almost every run was at the same medium pace. However, I have discovered that you should train over a wide variety of paces, depending on the purpose of the run. Makes a lot of sense, right? Well then why did it bother me so much? Answer: I am a slave to the clock, just like many other distance athletes are. And it's a shame. Training is a lot less stressful when you go about things by feel. Each day you should use the energy that is easily available to you; you shouldn't have to dig really deep on a daily basis. Your body will tell you when it wants to expend itself, as I have found out over the course of this summer. There have been times where I've felt like super woman, and other times where I've felt like a super slacker. But I think I'm finally starting to understand how to "listen" to my body. For example, this morning it told me to blog instead of run (I'm going to run later, of course :) ).
Another thing that amazes me is how a few seconds difference in a finishing time can be the difference between success and complete failure. We get these numbers stuck in our heads, and if we come in a few seconds tardy, we have failed. If I were to run a 20:01 5K, it would be a personal best. But it would also be a failure, because it isn't under my ultimate goal of 20:00. It's sad, but true.
What I do love about time, though, is how it seems to stop while I train. I'm in another world, where chronological time doesn't exist, and doesn't matter. While I was in school, I loved my morning workout because it was the hour of peace before the rest of the day was placed heavily on my shoulders. It was the hour of my day that never happened. Training is like leaving the world at one time, and then re-entering it at another. I always know that time has passed, because I most likely timed it on my watch. But I always feel like the day stops when I'm on the roads.
Time is important, but not really. After all, it's just grains in an hourglass.
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