Date: September 4, 2018
Distance: 0 miles (ouch)
Purpose: become a forced “gearhead” vs become a gear minimalist
Gear.
In the world of ultrarunning, it’s now everywhere -
from head to toe of the runner, the beautifully simple sport of running has
become cluttered and complicated with gear.
Let’s start at the top and work down. The runner needs a
designated mesh running hat and a designated cooling bandana. The runner needs
a lightweight headlamp for night runs with 5 different settings and 3 different
colors. The runner needs specialized polarized running glasses with
interchangeable lenses to match the ambient light levels, or even for the night
when there is no light at all. The runner needs specially-designed sunscreen
that is “sweatproof” and long-lasting. The runner needs a watch that apparently
does everything except squeeze fresh orange juice for you, including telling
you your heart rate, your altitude, your cadence, your strike angle, your
stride length, your distance, your pace, your lighting options, your text
messages to your phone, your music you can play from your phone, your periodic
reminders to eat and drink, your long-lived watch battery life; and the watch
even (still) tells the time of day. The runner needs specialized t-shirts,
shorts, even underwear, that wick and breathe and ventilate – and they now need
to be odor-free apparently as well. The runner needs compression sleeves and
compression leggings to keep swelling down at all times. The runner needs a
“hydration system” which can include a lightweight minimalist vest pack or a
high-tech waist belt or a handheld wrist bottle, with plenty of pockets for
stashing trail food, all for easy access to plenty of water and nutrition while
on the move. The runner needs lubricant
to protect from the constant chaffing caused by repetitive and limited motions
of the extremities, in every seeming dark and moist corner of your upper body,
mid body, and lower body. The runner needs high-tech colorful socks that are
any material except dreaded cotton. The
runner now needs super lightweight carbon-fiber poles - for both ascents and
descents - which readily collapse and can be stored or stashed easily. The runner needs earbuds to access their
carefully selected music to keep them properly energized – and they have to be
wireless earbuds so wires don’t get in your way while running.
And now we are finally at the only piece of gear that really
actually matters for a runner – the shoes. This is where, quite literally the
rubber meets the road, the feet pound the dirt, the energy transfers from your
legs to the earth and back up to your legs again causing you to spring forward,
if your form is consistent and correct.
Of all the gear mentioned above, shoes are clearly the most important
piece of gear to a runner, except perhaps how you will carry water. Running
shoes used to be so simple and relatively affordable. But now this has become a
deep science with a huge market unto itself, like all other running (and
skiing) gear minutiae has. There are
zero drop shoes and extra-cushioned “high heels”, road shoes and trail shoes, narrow
toe boxes and wide toe boxes, approach shoes and track flats, minimalist shoes
and near hiking boots.
It’s almost overwhelming, at least for me. And for my wallet. None of this gear is
cheap, after all. Just walk into any running store and you’ll see for yourself.
You can’t get good new running shoes without spending at least $120. For an admitted cheapskate like me, the price
tag of the gear actually matters. My wallet has a lot of people with wants and
needs, necessities and trivialities, hopes and dreams, trying to get into it
all in order to make those things come to pass.
I’m not discounting the importance of gear, especially shoes.
Each one of these items serves a very specific purpose, undoubtedly. Each one
can add to comfort, help with hydration/nutrition, avoid pain, and prevent
injury, undoubtedly. Therefore, one could legitimately argue that each piece of
gear increases the chances of a successful run, whether a 5K on a few roads in
your neighborhood or a 100 miler stretching over a series of trails. But my question with gear has always been the
following: how did the early runners do it? Specifically, how did the pioneer
runners of the Wasatch 100 back in 1980 finish the race? What gear did they
have? The answer is: very little, by today’s standards. They wore cotton
t-shirts and tennis shoes that they also mowed their lawn in and held a “biker
bottle” for most of the way. Yet they finished the race without injury,
hospital visits, and usually without cynicism. Some even finished with smiles
on their face, choosing to do the race again the next year, and telling their
other running buddies to come join them (which is the strongest endorsement for
a race’s appeal). They finished on will and grit, on desire and self-reliance,
and on a bit of insanity as well. But they didn’t finish because of their gear.
I salute those who run well and who don’t have the latest and greatest in terms
of gear, either today or a few decades ago. They are the ones I look up to.
Yes, finishing times have come down since the 80’s when the
Wasatch 100 was conceived. You could argue that gear advancements have
contributed to the drops in finishing times. Or maybe it’s the fact that we
have a much better understanding of the course now, or of the correct runner’s diet,
specifically of the importance of electrolytes and salt and fluid intake during
the race. I’m not a sports medicine specialist or a gear designer so I don’t
really know. I’m sure the “real experts” in the field would tell me how
absolutely important this aforementioned gear is.
But this is what I do know about gear, based on experience.
Several runners rely on their gear more than they rely on
their own physical fitness, mental grit, and spiritual acuity. Finishing an
ultra-race requires these 3 things in spades, far more than state-of-the art
gear that is now almost a requirement to join some running circles it seems. Certain
gear can enhance the athletic state you are already in, but doesn’t replace a
poor athletic state with a dramatically better one. By “enhance,” I mean it can
add 10% to your performance, however you define performance: speed, cadence,
heart rate, weight loss, VO2 max, etc.
I have seen this small enhancement myself when I got some
new trail running shoes earlier this year.
As I said before, I truly appreciate the value of good running
shoes. I have always been a loyal Asics man. However, on the recommendation of
a persuasive salesman at REI, I tried out and purchased some Altra’s back in
March 2018. I have literally run through a new pair of Altra Timps for the
first 3 months of training. I am now using some Altra Olympus shoes, which I
will use for my race in 3 days. I have loved the wide toe box, even though I
thought they looked funny at first and felt much too loose. I have loved the
zero-drop, forcing a mid-foot strike, both on uphills and downhills. I feel
like more of my foot is engaged in the running process as they splay on each
strike to absorb the impact. The Olympus
seems stronger and more resilient than the Timps, with the Vibram soles and
reinforced seams. I will pay for good
shoes every time. I feel like the rest of the stuff I mentioned above really
could be considered optional, other than hydration perhaps. Runners: save your
money and time on researching questionable purchases in the form of the best
watches and socks and hydration packs and trekking poles and…. The list goes on
and on.
Gear is a blessing. Gear is a curse. Gear is like salad
dressing. Running attitude, form, habits are like salad. Focus on the salad
first. Sprinkle some dressing on later, once you’ve got a good bed of greens to
build on.
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