(This piece is for my
book-in-progress titled See
How We Run: Best Writings from 25 Years of Running Commentary. I am posting an excerpt here each week,
this one from November 2003.)
Pain is on my mind today for two reasons.
First, I’m dealing with a pain in the butt that comes to visit every couple of
years.
It’s not a person but an injury, a muscle
tear where the glutei attach to the upper hip. It isn’t a running injury,
though it stopped my runs for a few days.
The other reason I’m thinking about pain
is that a student-reporter from the University of Missouri asked about it. “I’m
writing a story about the pain runners go through both in really hard workouts
and in races,” said James Carlson. “I’m trying to delve into why runners ignore
the body’s most basic cautionary response, pain, and the ways they go about
doing it.”
He wanted to know my thoughts on the “pain
barrier.” What allows some runners to punch through it better than others?
I began by telling him about the butt injury,
defining it as a “bad pain.” Not bad as in severe, but bad in contrast to the
good pain of running. The bad one keeps you from pushing for the good one.
Good pain is what we experience normally
in some runs. It’s the discomfort of fatigue or mild soreness that follows a
race or hard training session.
These feelings are temporary and not
entirely unpleasant. This type of pain reminds us that we’ve done as well as we
could, and that we’re allowed to feel a little bit heroic.
The pain barrier exists, but I see it less
as a wall to be crashed than as a line to be pushed. It tells us how hard we
can safely run, how far we can safely bend without breaking. Break through that
barrier too far or too often, and bad pains are sure to follow.
I don’t think runners truly break through
the pain barrier – not for long, anyway. We simply learn to work with it.
The first way of working with pain is
recognizing what the auto racers call a “red-line pace.” In our hard training
and racing, this line separates good pains from bad pains, discomfort from
destruction. Ambitious and successful runners learn to nudge that line without
going over.
The second way of dealing with the pain
barrier is to move it. It’s not like a steeplechase hurdle, in the same place
for all runners, all the time.
Training pushes the red-line to a higher
level. What might be a destructive effort early in training becomes mere
discomfort later on, and what once was uncomfortable becomes easy.
I see all types of runners, from the
fastest to the slowest. I don’t see the top ones, as a group, enduring a great
deal more pain than the back-of-the-packers. What the front-runners have are
the talent and training to run as fast as they can at twice the pace of the
little-talented and lightly trained.
Kenny Moore was between his two Olympics
and only beginning to earn his living as a writer when he penned a 1970 article
about runners and pain. It still makes more sense than anything else I’ve read
on the subject.
“Good distance runners are reputed to possess
either great resistance or little sensitivity to pain,” Moore wrote. “I have
heard coaches state flatly that if an athlete doesn’t have a high ‘pain
threshold,’ he may as well forget about running well. Yet I doubt whether
runners as a group are any more brave when it comes to sitting in dentist
chairs or receiving tetanus boosters than the general populace.”
Moore told of participating in a study to
measure the effects of altitude training. This involved running to exhaustion
and then giving blood samples.
He noted, “It seemed strange to our
doctors that while we showed no reluctance to run ourselves into
unconsciousness at the end of a hard workout (quite easy to do at 7500 feet),
the mention of another session with the needles set us all to whining like
tormented alley cats. The explanation, of course, is that we were used to our kind of pain.
“Over the years we had developed a
familiarity with our bodies that let us know how much of the discomfort of
extreme fatigue we could stand. Part of a runner’s training consists of pushing
back the limits of his mind. But the needle pain was relatively new and exposed
our ‘innate toughness’ for what it was – a learned specialty.”
UPDATE FROM 2015
Kenny Moore, now into his 70s, has since
become well acquainted with bad pains. His result from a chronic medical
condition that affects his motor skills (and has ended his running), while
leaving his marvelous writing skills intact. He still contributes occasionally
to Sports Illustrated and Runner’s World.
[Hundreds of previous articles,
dating back to 1998, can be found at joehenderson.com/archive/. Many books of
mine, old and recent, are now available in as many as three different formats: (1) in
print from Amazon.com; (2) as e-books from Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com;
(3) as PDFs for e-reader devices and apps, from Lulu.com. Latest released was Going Far. Other titles: Home Runs, Joe’s Journal, Joe’s Team,
Learning to Walk, Long Run Solution, Long
Slow Distance, Marathon Training,
Run Right Now, Run Right Now Training Log, See
How We Run, and Starting Lines,
plus Rich Englehart’s book about me, Slow
Joe.]
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