Still Running (weakly). Issue 113

PAST – inspiration – “She is a disgrace to motherhood and the Irish nation,” wrote one indignant correspondent to The Irish Times in 1956, protesting about the fact that Maeve Kyle had the temerity to leave her husband and daughter and go off and run in the Melbourne Olympics!

Kyle, who has died at the age of 96, was a true pioneer, becoming the first Irish woman to compete in track and field at the Olympics.  She was in fact a triple Olympian, also competing in 1960 and 1964, in addition to winning 58 caps for the Ireland hockey team.

She and her husband, Sean, also coached numerous athletes, including Olympic pentathlon champion Mary Peters, for many decades.  During the worst period of the Northern Ireland troubles in the early 1970s, they were instrumental in setting up Top Towns meetings which saw towns from Northern Ireland and even a number from the southern border counties compete in team athletics meetings.

When I started reading Athletics Weekly way back in 1973, one of the first pictures I saw was of Maeve – and she was a legendary veteran athlete even then!

RIP Maeve Kyle

PRESENT – perspiration – “Every single day of my life, I wake up and the first thing I want to do is to make sure I go for a run,” says Clare Elms, the 61-year-old who has set numerous British and World Records in recent years – British Indoor 1500m, Mile, British Outdoor 800m, 1500m (5 times), Mile (3 times), 3000m, 5000m, British Road 5 Miles, Mile (twice), World Indoor 1500m, Mile, World Outdoors 1500m, Mile (twice).  She is the oldest woman, at 61, ever to break 5 minutes for 1500m.

Last week she set yet another world record, running 5:18.97 for the mile on the track in Wimbledon.

But she didn’t start running seriously until her 40s, having had triplets in 2000, though she did seem to be a natural, breaking 40 minutes for 10km soon after she began running – on almost no training!

Those of us who have struggled to beat 40 for 5km are probably asking how she does it (apart from having a natural aptitude).

Her diet is good but not unusual: “… an avocado with every meal … I am addicted to them. I eat piles of fruit every day.  Mango, grapes, raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, figs and also dried fruit like apricots.  I love honey and my treat is manuka honey, I have a big spoon in my porridge every morning.  I also have malt loaf for energy most days, also with honey!”

But I think the ‘secret’ is in her prioritised training.  (Students of my own coaching principles will be familiar with this.)  She has a busy life but makes sure she gets three key sessions in every week – Tuesday track, a Thursday hard tempo run and a long run with marathon pace included.  She takes the local bus – courtesy of her over-60s bus pass, of course – to that vital club track session every Tuesday!

FUTURE – suggestion – Is your track session meant for practice and progress, or for performance and proof?  What do I mean?  I remember Peter Coe cutting short one of his son Seb’s sessions: “I’ve seen enough.”  That was obviously an occasion that was more about knowing where his athlete was at, in terms of race readiness, and obtaining confidence – and perhaps a confirmed race strategy – from that knowledge.  From his performance, both athlete and coach had proof of his form.

Most sessions are the reverse – they are about practising and progressing – doing the hard work that will bear fruit later.  They are still based and judged on performance, but there is a crucial difference.

To show you what I mean, let me give you another example of performance and proof.  I remember doing a session of 8 times 400 metres with a strict 200-metre jog between, which I managed to complete in an average of 68 seconds, with none of them being over 70.  I was tempted to try and do 2 more reps, for 10 under 70, but sensed I would probably fail (my 8th had been over 69).  And I knew that, while 10 might do me more physical good than 8, the mental boost I would get from the 8x400 under 70 would be severely compromised if it became 10x400 under, say, 72.

Sometimes it is perspicacious to pause and preserve the purity of a pristine performance.