Rules for running attire

Are there rules for running attire?

Some runners dress to impress. We all know runners who have spanking-new, matchy-matchy clothes and look like they just stepped out of a Runner's World photo shoot. These runners are willing to spend a pretty penny on their gear, but other runners wonder why.

Some runners have strict rules about the dos and don'ts of running attire. I personally wear almost nothing but race t-shirts. (Why buy new ones when I have dozens of perfectly good ones?) But, I will not wear my race t-shirt until after I have run the race. I'll use the shirt as a car-washing rag if I (for some reason) can't or don't run.

In short: I will not wear a race t-shirt that I did not earn.
By earn, I mean run the race.
Having "paid for" the shirt is insufficient license for me to wear it.

In the same vein, I think it's a little weird when runners wear a race's t-shirt at that race's the starting line. (Don't you know the rule about no new gear on race day?) But I bear no ill will toward those whose t-shirt etiquette is different from mine. I just think: "must be newbies."

And what about post-run clothing?

I have, on many occasions, gone for breakfast, burritos, or beer (or all three) after a long run without showering and changing into "appropriate" attire. I often wonder if the waitstaff hate runners, so I try to leave a good tip. (Ignore the fact that the $10 is slightly damp, please.)

Even Viper, who I always assumed would be above this sort of sartorial concern, questioned his decision to be seen in public post-run looking (in his words) like Richard Simmons.

On the other side of the spectrum, there are plenty of runners who care not what they look like while running (even if that means running naked). Case in point: The Boring Runner revels in his bad runner fashion.

I think we know which camp I belong to. My running t-shirts are race t-shirts. My favorite shorts are a pair of blue Brooks I bought in 2004. The hem is coming un-sewn. There's a hole in the pocket. But I love those shorts! (I might have them framed...)

So, to be clear, I'm not against nice running gear. (Full disclosure: I do love my very pretty INKnBURN shorts.) I just can't bring myself to spend extra money when I get race shirts for free.

That said, sometimes I have the decency to take a wet-wipe bath between racing and breakfast. (And sometimes Hubby has the good sense of humor to collect blackmail material take photos.)

"Changing" into flip-flops for the post-race party on Saturday.
At least I used wet-wipes before sitting down to eat with 1,000 of my closest friends!

What's your take on running attire? Do you plan color-coordinating outfits or just wing it in race t-shirts and 10-year-old shorts?

C'mon, pick up the pace!

Context is everything.

Imagine someone says to you: "C'mon, pick up the pace!"

How do you respond?

C'mon, pick up the pace!
(Image from the State Library of New South Wales with edits by author)

Well, someone yelled that very phrase at me this morning, and my response was... well... we'll get to that.

The incident got me thinking: How would my reaction have been different, to those same words, under other circumstances?

Your coach yells: C'mon, pick up the pace!
Reaction: Shame.
Coach caught you sandbagging and called you out on it. You are probably angry, but can't tell if you're angry at yourself or at your coach. You pick up the pace, even if you don't want to, because you're pissed and because coach is probably right.

Your long-time running buddy says: C'mon, pick up the pace!
Reaction: Compliance.
You dig in and find another gear to keep up. You might grumble or shoot back a "You've got to be kidding?" But you know your running buddy is right, so you push on. If it just happens to be the kind of day where you can't find the energy to rally, you also know that your running buddy will understand. Because that running buddy has seen you at your best and at your worst. That running buddy has probably seen you knocking out hill repeats like a Kenyan, but has also seen you sidelined with stomach cramps. And it's all ok.

Your race-day rival (and possible mortal enemy) taunts: C'mon, pick up the pace!
Reaction: Fury.
You want to kick the smirk off of Rival's face. You fantasize about the gal (or guy) tripping over a loose shoelace 200 meters from the finish line as you cruise by to an age group award. You are secretly filled with glee when you find out that your chip time was 20 seconds faster than hers.

Your neighbor jokes, as you run by: C'mon, pick up the pace!
Reaction: Laughter.
You know your neighbor is just teasing to be neighborly. This "pick up the pace" is more of an acknowledgement that you're out running than it is a commentary on your level of effort. You yell back: "Get off your damned porch and join me!" with a smile on your face.

A race-day spectator yells: C'mon, pick up the pace!
Reaction: Indignation.
You think to yourself: "You get out here and run you lazy F%#$@!& windbag!" and realize later that you forgot to use your "inside voice." Oops. (But, then again, the jerk deserved it.)

So, which "C'mon, pick up the pace!" do you think I heard this morning?
Do you have any context-shifted stories to share? An event that ruined your day, when in other circumstances it would have been no big thing? An event that made you laugh, when in other circumstances it might have made you cry?

Rules for race spectators

I am not the first person to publish a spectator "dos and don'ts" list, nor will I be the last. But sometimes people need a swift kick in the pants gentle reminder about race spectator etiquette.

This morning I spectated at a 5k/10k/half marathon, and watched - in disbelief - as hundreds of people stood silently by as the 5k winner... then the 10k winner... then the half marathon winner crossed the finish line.
Silence?!?
I know it's the morning, people, but show a little enthusiasm!

Cheering done properly!
Source: Nationaal Archief

Beth's rules for race spectators:

1 - Cheer for everyone.
There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of runners passing you. They all worked hard. You, on the other hand, are just standing there looking bored until the one person you know comes by. Then you wake up for 8 seconds and clap. So now we know your hands work.
Stop being lame and just cheer already!

2 - If you don't know what to say...
Yelling "looking good" or "looking strong" always works, even if (especially if) the person looks miserable. "Woo hoo!" is appropriate. "Good job" is appreciated. If you get tired of repeating those things, just clap.

3 - What you should never say...
Never, ever tell runners "You're almost there" unless you are within arm's reach of the finish line... and then that phrase makes you Captain Obvious anyway.
So better to just NEVER say it. If you aren't a runner, you have no idea what "almost there" means. For example, mile 18 of a marathon is not "almost" anything. And if you are a runner you probably already know better.

4 - Do not crowd the course.
We know you want that photo of your best friend / significant other / Great Aunt Millie. Find a way to get the photo without tripping other runners. OK?

5 - Ringing a cowbell is the social equivalent of bringing jello salad to a potluck.
Some people love it. A few people will eye you with open hostility.
I am squarely on the cowbell-loving side of this fence, but you should be aware that not everyone is fond of the clanking clamor.

In short... You look lame standing there with your hands in your pockets.
Seriously. Lame.
So cheer!
(You might even have fun.)

PS - If you want pointers, the Houston Olympic Marathon Trials crowd shows you how to do it right. :-)

What's your biggest spectator pet peeve?
What would you add to this list?

Cheater cheater pumpkin eater!

Quiz Question: How do you place third in a marathon?

A - You outrun all but two other people.

B - You take a bus for 10k of the 26.2, and conveniently hop back onto the course right before the finish line (making sure to do so only after runner 1 and 2 have passed, because cheating to win would be too obvious).

C - You find a way to get some obscure IAAF rule changed so that only people with your last name are eligible for third place.


So, folks, which of these things actually happened last weekend at the Kielder Marathon?

Source: The Telegraph. For original story, see link below.

If you guessed B, you are correct!

According to The Telegraph, Rob Sloan (age 31) initially expressed shock at the allegations of cheating. In fact, to make things more surreal Sloan...

"was seen boasting to reporters minutes after completing the event. He described the race as 'absolutely, unbelievably tough'. When his placing was brought into doubt, he was indignant. 'I’m upset and angry that someone wants to cast these aspersions. It’s laughable, is what it is,' he insisted."

No, dude. Laughable is your attempt to claim a marathon was "unbelievably tough" when you skipped six miles of it, hid in the woods, and jumped back on the course when you thought the coast was clear!

After race organizers launched an investigation, Sloan finally admitted to taking a bus to finish.

He has now been disqualified from the race and stripped of his medal. The race organizers have issued a press release summarizing the event.

What sort of penalty do YOU think there should there be for this kind of cheating? Suspension from running events? A fine? Tar and feathers?

Shouted at by strangers

Normally I get a little totally creeped out when I'm out running and people yell from passing cars. Often the shouts are incoherent, but some I've heard recently (true story) include:

"Yee haw!"
and
"Hey baby, want a ride?"

(Um... really? You can't be serious.)

I live near a busy(ish) road. For the life of me, I do not understand why drivers on this road yell at runners on the adjoining sidewalk. Occasionally (very rarely) I also get a wave, and I think: "Oh, that person must have confused me for a neighbor."

But really, nothing ruins the cadence of a good morning run like being shouted at by strangers. Except maybe stepping in dog poo. That can ruin a run, too.

Yes, I jump every time a crazy motorist shouts out the window. No, teenager-in-your-dad's-car, it's not funny. (And why aren't you in school? It's 9am on a weekday!)

But today was different.

Today I was running hill repeats on one of the few hills in the state of Florida. (Note: My definition of "hill" has eroded greatly since moving here.) A local fitness boot camp group was wrapping up their workout in a nearby park. From the top of the hill, I could see boot-campers heading back to their cars. I finished the sprint I was on, trotted back down the hill, and started all over again.

As I was hauling ass huffing and puffing my way up the hill again, one of the boot camp women slowed her truck, rolled down her window, and shouted:

"You're doing great! Keep it up!"

Now that's some shouting I could hear every day.

100th blog post

Today I've reached one of the critical blogger milestones: the 100th post.

I fretted over what to write, since this post seems momentous. (But then again, it is really just like every other post...) Should I write something reflective? Should I gush about the blogger community? Should I write a retrospective on all the years I've been running, or how much my life has changed (or not) in the past 100 posts?

In honor of this special occasion, and in the spirit of keeping things simple, I decided to take a brief look back at the blog so far.

Superlatives, flops, and things I've learned:
The (surprisingly) most popular post so far has been my book review of Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them. The popularity of this post is, at least in part, thanks to Pete at Runblogger, who Stumbled the post and has been generating regular traffic ever since. (Thanks Runblogger!)

The second most popular is Running in the Buff... Don't even get me started about the weird search terms that have generated traffic for that post. The popularity of Running in the Buff made me wonder if I should start blogging about nudity more often. (It generates traffic!) But seriously, I've seen Avenue Q. I should not have been surprised by the search results.

(Viewer caution: The Avenue Q video contains no nudity, but is NSFW)

The post that I had the most fun writing, but flopped royally, was Spitting Mad (about running etiquette, especially not spitting on your fellow runners). I expected at least a few "eww gross" comments, but instead got silence. *crickets chirping* Then again, Yes, Folks. I Run Like A Girl was only a baby blog then. Even my family wasn't reading it yet. (I do wonder if Spitting Mad would get more traction today?)

The most controversial post, by far, was Sexist New Rules (about the swap to women's world records now only counting in women-only races). This post blew up into a raging debate on my facebook wall, with dozens of comments on both sides of the argument. To everyone's credit, the debate was heated but civil.

My thanks to all who have been reading along with me so far. I look forward to sharing the next 100 (miles and posts) with you!

I can run and chew gum at the same time

You've heard that old expression...

__insert name here__ is so stupid he can't walk and chew gum at the same time.

Well thankfully most of us are perfectly capable of doing both, seamlessly, unless we suffer from some sort of cognitive impairment like Alzheimer's or dementia.

But running and chewing gum? That's just pure madness.

Right?

I had never even considered the possibility until recently. If I had thought about it, I probably would have dismissed it under the assumption that running while chewing gum posed a high choking hazard. You know, with all that huffing-and-puffing, you'd probably inhale the gum, right?

Maybe not...

On a rather hot and dry run last summer, a friend handed me a stick of chewing gum before we started. I was skeptical, but she's an accomplished runner. And on closer consideration I realized baseball players chew gum while they're playing and to the best of my knowledge, no game has ever been stopped because of a gum-asphyxiation incident.

So I took a stick, and was off on my way.

Maybe it was the placebo effect, but I felt more pep on that run than I had in weeks. As we have discussed before, I tend to wither in the heat like a snail on hot pavement. The minty gum prevented my mouth from getting that gritty dry feeling that is inevitable on long hot runs. I think it tricked my brain into thinking "it's not so hot out" the way running with music tricks my brain into thinking "I'm not breathing so hard; I can go faster!"

So much of running is about training our brains, because our brains are wired to tell us to slow down, ease off, and take it easy long before our bodies really have to give in. One of my favorite running quotes of all time is: "In the beginning it's hard to understand that the race is not against others but against that little voice in your head that tells you when to quit."
(I have yet to find a credible "first" source for that quote, but do believe that the speaker knows what it means to be a runner.)

My verdict on the gum: it keeps that little voice quiet for a little longer. Maybe it works because it keeps my jaws working on something else, so my inner voice can't say "it's too hot!" Maybe it works because it keeps my mouth from getting dry. Maybe it works because it's 100% placebo effect. But no matter what the reason, it does work.

I just have to remember now to look for a waste bin at the 3-mile point... because the gum only lasts so long, and I don't need to leave my flavorless gum on the street waiting to ambush the next runner's shoes.

Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/momboleum/
Photo link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/momboleum/2795630136/

Spitting mad

Earlier this week I had the unpleasant experience of being all too close to the line of fire when a nearby runner decided to clear his throat by spitting on the street. Right. In. Front. Of. My. Feet.

Now don't get me wrong... Show me a runner who claims to never spit on the run, and I'll show you someone who either A - is fibbing, B - hasn't been running long enough, or C - has an elevated sense of social propriety that puts the rest of us to shame. (For more on the pros and cons of the most controversial running etiquette, see Adam Goucher's excellent blog here.)

So, yes, I accept that spit happens.

What I don't accept is that there is any excuse for not looking before you spew saliva. That, mister, is just gross.

So I did what I most love to do in situations like this. I took a deep breath, leaned into my stride, and beat the pants off the offender... chirping a little "passing on your left" at him as I rolled by and left him in the dust. Being good and truly pissed off works wonders for my pacing.

I suppose I could have said something specific to him about his spitting, but that always risks coming across as cranky (particularly when you're still in the rear), so I chose to take my anger out on the pavement.

... now if I could just channel that kind of anger into my pacing on my next race!

(but without the spit)

Photo courtesy of the U.S. National Archive