Racing as Performance

Racing is a kind of performance. It is the space in which one displays one’s attributes as a runner-athlete. Rebekah Kennedy (Episode #24), a former professional dancer, who switched to long-distance running in her mid-40s, describes racing as a ‘show’. And thus, she makes a point of feeling comfortable in her race gear and knowing that this is the ‘front stage’ of racing. It is what the public sees. While training is a space of discipline and repetition, racing (performance) is playful and can be exuberant.

I have mixed feelings about racing. It can provide thrills and disappointments. It is a focus point of our running energies and attention. Without racing, perhaps many of us would feel ‘unstructured’ in our running. The races we sign up for, shape how we train. But could things go the other way around? How about we train well first and then find races which suit the condition (form) that we are in? This would largely take the pressure off from doing long, arduous marathon builds leading up to a single day. That the major Dutch marathons - Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Eindhoven - sell out so quickly, make it difficult to choose to do this distance only when one is in suitable form. 

Common running wisdom, of course, also has a few things to say about ‘race day’. Many coaches say: ‘nothing new on race day’. That is: don’t wear new gear and new shoes for a race. Don’t try different gels from the one’s you are already used to. Practice taking gels leading up to the race. This reinforces the sense of a race being something based on many rehearsals (training sessions). Runners-athletes find it handy to keep as many things ‘the same’ as usual because race-day itself and the race itself is something new, different and other from one’s training regime. 

Start Number, drawing by Andy Fuller

Race day brings such excitement and anxiety that many runners seek to follow the same routine in the week leading up to a major race (marathon): eating the same food, preparing their favourite outfit (kit) - and taking a photo of it for Instagram. Of course, it is also nice to have a quiet week of work so one is able to feel relaxed and concentrated on the task at hand - i.e. delivering a marathon PB. Many recreational runners are not able to adjust their weekly work schedule so that it is a ‘quiet week’. Many also have immovable family obligations which may impact race-day fatigue. The sense of ‘racing as play’ gets lost in the anxieties of performance and desires to achieve a PB. Coaches dish out prescriptive race plans where athletes are expected to hit consistent 5km splits throughout the marathon at hand. But, this is never possible owing to the changes in the course and the conditions on the day. Athletes and recreational runners alike might have more fun if they leave more room for chaos and disorder on race day and then roll with that. 

Running coaches have a tendency to be prescriptive and to tell runners/athletes what to do. Some athletes and runners have a tendency to ask for these kinds of directions. In Episode #82 Joseph Mills shared with me that ‘the thing not to do, as a coach, is to provide the answer that the athlete expects.’ This was perhaps deliberately cryptic of him. But I take it as an invitation for coaches to think beyond providing ‘industry standard best-practice’ type answers. I believe the creative relationship involves both parties listening well to each other and finding what works well. Racing for ‘performance’ is going to involve different strategies compared to ‘racing for participation’. Some runners regard doing the distance of 42.2km as a ‘marathon’ - even when it takes place outside of a specifically organised event. For some runners, a marathon only counts when it is an officially organised event. So many of the standard running practices are ‘disciplining’ and ‘conforming’ that we sometimes forget to ‘run a way’ - just as Manolo Pierson suggests in his book, <Run_A_Way> (yes, published by Reading Sideways Press.)

In a race that involves 20,000, perhaps it is only the top 50 athletes who can be stake a claim to reaching the podium or accessing the prize money. There are categories for male and female winners and often times age-category prizes. There are also prizes for top national finishers for the host-nation. Thus the Rotterdam or Amsterdam Marathon also doubles as the ‘Dutch National Marathon Championship’. So perhaps beyond these 50 or so athletes that might be invited to participate in a race, all of us are just in it as recreational runners with various degrees of ability.  Winners of age-category prizes might receive a small amount of cash (less than the cost of registration) or free entry to the same race the following year. 

We’re doing it ‘alleen voor de LOL’, as people say increasingly often in Dutch. We’re just in it for the laughs. We participate in our races with various degrees of self-aggrandisement. Our friends and family come and watch us. They show up with signs on the side of the road expressing their support. They wait at the end of the race and provide gifts of flowers and also a consoling or celebratory hug. After all, it’s hard to feel like an athlete if there is no one around to congratulate us and say how wonderful we are.  Nonetheless, we adopt the rituals and seriousness of competitive, professional, paid or invited athletes. As if something is on the line. The only thing that is ‘on the line’ is our self-perception of our ability. Probably it is the supporters of the runners who deserve the adulation. ‘Thank you for tolerating my obsession and the time and money that I invest in it.’  Some runners also frame their performance results as being a poor reflection of the training they have put in for the race: it is as if they imagine that there can be a direct correlation between training and race-result outcome. 

My reading is that training-racing has a looser relationship than is currently accepted. For every runner who trumpets their latest PB (at whichever distance) on Strava and Instagram, I presume that there are more who achieve a Personal Mediocrity, a Personal Deflation, or, a Personal Worst. It would be great if we could perceive our own performances with a bit more of a sense of humour, rather than blaming the conditions or our training. Running faster has a ceiling: and although it is part of the fun of running to find out where it actually is, dealing with fluctuating or diminishing performances is one of the certainties of running. 

The major races in the Netherlands sell out so quickly that recreational runners have to book up to a year in advance. A year’s training and racing schedule is then shaped by that one main goal race. A more spontaneous attitude towards racing, where smaller, more local races are prioritised might on the other hand allow runners to participate in races which suit their form rather than busting their training to suit an inconveniently timed or placed race.