Beware The What-Ifs!

Beware The What-Ifs!

Evan Gaynor

“I never met a runner that didn’t think they could go faster.”

Perhaps no phrase is more quintessential to the distance runner than this uttered by former world record holder Ron Clarke. It speaks to the heart and essence of the distance runner’s soul; the constant search for betterment, the endless drive to improve.

And yet, for all the positivity it evokes—the resoluteness, optimism, and steadfastness—the phrase also underscores a proverbial “Achilles heel”.

The simple fact of the matter is, this constant yearning for more can all too often lead to a nasty case of the “what-ifs.”

Indeed, if there is any fault in the distance runner’s character, it is this: He or she may strive for and achieve success beyond the wildest dreams of many, and yet, never allow themselves a moment of satisfaction. Perhaps it’s a commentary on the human condition as a whole, that we can never just stop and appreciate the moment we’re in. As the old saying goes, we can never "stop and smell the roses"...

Recently, I was talking with a high school athlete that I coach. He had just competed at the state track and field championships, running the race of his life to finish 7th place, take home all-state honors, and run a new personal best of just over 9:40 in the 3200 meters. He was pleased with the results, but yet seemed fixated on one point: If only he’d gone out harder! We had discussed his race strategy beforehand, and decided that it would be best for him to stay towards the back of the pack and let the leaders wear themselves out. Running an even paced race, he would be able to come from behind and chase down runners that fell off the lead pack.

He did just that. And yet he couldn’t help but wonder… What if he’d gone with the leaders? What if he didn’t have to come from so far down, only to come up just short of a rapidly fading 5th and 6th place? What if he could have been closer to 9:30?

What if? What if? What if...

There you have it. By always dwelling on the "What ifs", a runner is robbing themselves of the satisfaction and the glory of what they actually did accomplish.

He was 7th in the state! He ran the race of his life!

I’m far from immune or guiltless myself. In fact, I can draw on a long line of my own experiences in proposing that it may behoove you to stop and smell those proverbial roses once in a while.

A prime example—and the one that I shared with my young athlete—was my run at the 2017 Falmouth Road Race.

The Falmouth Road Race is one of the most storied and competitive events in the history of our sport. In fact, outside of big city marathons it was one of the very first road races that featured mass participation for recreational runners. A Cape Cod bartender named Tommy Leonard watched Frank Shorter’s gold medal run in 1972, and decided he’d like to stage an event that Shorter would come run one day. The next year, he started a race that ran 7 miles from the doorstep of his bar to that of another bar down the coast, and, lo and behold, two years after that, one Frank Shorter was squaring off against 4-time Boston and New York City Marathon winner Bill Rodgers for the win. The rest is history.

The 2017 edition Falmouth was set to be a scorcher, with start temperatures in excess of 75 degrees and beating down sun. In light of this and a pretty tough course with a few sizable hills, I decided on a relatively simple race strategy: I’d pretend it was a half marathon. I figured that if I hovered right around a 5:00 mile pace, I could move up through the field in the final miles, picking up the carnage of runners that had fallen off the lead pack and moving into a strong position by the finish.

I stuck to my plan and executed nearly perfectly, chasing down runners in the final half mile to move into 9th place in a time of 35:13.

“Ninth place?!?! Really? Holy cow, I just finished in the top 10 at the Falmouth Road Race!!!”

Having competed for nearly 16 years at the time, I'd rarely celebrate flamboyantly during race finishes anymore. On that day, however, you can bet there was some fist pumping, some whooping, and a few yells of exuberance as I rolled across that line.

“I friggin did it!!”

However, not long after I trotted to a stop, the proverbial “what ifs” began to rear their ugly face.

“What if I had been just a little more aggressive in those early hills? If I could have averaged even a few seconds a mile faster for the first three, I could have set myself up to be under 35; a far more respectable sounding time on the course. A little more aggressive on the flat, and I may even have inched a bit closer to Rodgers’ slowest of three winning times of 34:17. Ninth is great, but over 35 usually doesn’t crack the…”

“STOP!”

Olympic silver medalist and Boston and New York City Marathon champion Meb Keflezghi had once finished exactly 10th place in this race. Former Marathon world record holder and three time New York City winner Alberto Salazar had also finished exactly 10th place in this race. Sure, their times were faster, and both men would most certainly have beaten me had we toed the line together, but the fact of the matter remains… I finished NINTH PLACE at the FALMOUTH ROAD RACE. Who cares if a time of over 35 minutes doesn’t usually crack the top 10? It did that day! Who cares if so and so would have beaten me on such and such day? They didn’t!!

I finished 9th place. End of story. What more needs to be said?

So there you have it. By brooding over what I could have done, I was robbing myself of the satisfaction of one of the absolute best results of my entire career. While I should have been purely soaking in the moment of a job well done-truly a dream realized-I was allowing these nagging, pestering doubts to distract me.

Perhaps it’s a character trait that true long distance runners will never fully escape. I told that entire story to my athlete that summer, and stressed the importance of appreciating results for what they are. Yet, just a few months later, as I crossed the finish line of the Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon in exactly my goal of 1:07, lurking in the back of my mind were none other than the old “what ifs”.

“What if I had been a little more aggressive in those middle miles? I know I could have gone 1:06…”

I suppose it’s a trait that we as runners wouldn’t really want to ever fully escape either. It’s this hunger that keeps us coming back for more, time and time again, year after year. Yet, as someone who’s been around the block a time or two (or 38 if you’ve ever seen me run workouts in my neighborhood!), take it from me not to let this trait define you.

This weekend or next, half or full, personal best or not, goals reached or just missed, take it from me… Allow yourself to be satisfied. Bask in that sensation as you make that final turn and the finish arch looms ahead. Feel the energy. No matter what, just by being there, in that moment, you’re accomplishing something that few people ever have or will.

Lastly, promise me that in your next race, when you cross that finish line, when you trot to a stop and take your finisher medal, you’ll give it at least a few little whiles before you let even a single “what if” cross your mind!