How to go from good to GREAT

When I started working at my new job at a nonprofit in the Outer Sunset, one of the very first things my boss had me do was read a book called "Good to Great." The book had a lot of excellent points about what makes a company or a nonprofit transition from being a good but average performer to a truly great company or nonprofit organization. It got me thinking about what steps our nonprofit would need to take to make the leap and be sustainable and successful for years to come, and what role I can play in helping accomplish that goal. But after I left the office, I began to ask myself, "what do I need to do to go from being a good collegiate runner to a GREAT professional runner who is competitive at the national (and maybe international) level?"

Well, the first thing is I need to fully commit myself to running. At least in the next year or two, I need to stop trying to kick ass in the classroom, on the track, and in the volunteer world... trying to do all three of these at the same time is not conducive to being the very best athlete you can be. But being the very best athlete wasn't my goal these past 5 years. My goal was to be the best student-athlete I could be, to be the most well-rounded person I could and to get the most out of my college experience. Now, my college coach might not have been a fan of that goal, but I firmly believe that you go to college for an education first, an athletic experience second, and that each of those experiences complements the other. I won't go into any more detail about this in a public blog, but I'll leave you with this -- as an undergrad I got to study abroad, intern in DC, volunteer in South America, and lead a student organization... all of which were very formative experiences that contributed to my personal growth, and therefore to my development as an athlete. I wouldn't have wanted college to be any other way.

But now I'm out of college, so my goal is no longer to kick ass in the classroom (at least until grad school)... and while I want to continue my involvement in the volunteer/nonprofit world, I've got my whole career for that... so right now, I'm trying to discover how good I can be athletically. To work toward that goal, I'm taking a step back from professional responsibilities and only working part-time, which enables me to spend more hours focused on the little things that can help you get from good to great: proper rest and recovery, regular ice baths and massages, proper nutrition, double days and additional strength work...

The things I just listed aren't too hard to figure out... it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that you run faster when you get more sleep or when you're fueling your body well. But that list is pretty specific to running... I'm more interested in what it takes to be a great athlete, no matter the sport. What are the qualities that "the greats" -- Kara Goucher and Shalane Flanagan, Joe Montana and Jerry Rice, Michael Jordan, Michael Phelps, etc -- possess that enabled them to reach that elite level? What attributes do I admire in some of my athletic role models? This is some of what I came up with -- feel free to add your thoughts!

What does it take to be an elite athlete?

--confidence/belief in oneself
--consistency
--competitive attitude and spirit; the will to win
--ability to push through pain, doubts, or mental weakness--dedication and discipline

I'm working on each of these, and am always trying to ask myself what I can do to continually improve and how I can be better. Suggestions and constructive criticism welcomed! :)

I'm glad I don't play baseball...

Over the past few days, the weather gods have blessed San Francisco with beautiful warm weather, which has been so nice! Sun instead of fog, sports bra running weather instead of long sleeves and tights... it's glorious! However, yesterday afternoon I chose to watch the Giants game instead of enjoying the lovely running weather, and instead ran loops in the park that night after the game (yes, Mom -- I was very safe and stayed in populated areas!) Thankfully, the Giants pulled off the win, so my decision to postpone my run was worth it!

For those of you who watched the game, you know how tense those last few innings were, where every pitch mattered. As I sat in a bar packed with rabid, anxious Giants fans, I started thinking about how grateful I am that I'm not a baseball pitcher! God, what pressure! All 40,000+  fans in the stadium watching you (not to mention the million or so watching on TV!), people screaming and waving tomahawks and rally rags, media commentators critiquing everything from your form to your facial hair... And all of this with the weight of your team's future hanging on every pitch! Man, running 25 laps on a track seems like a piece of cake compared to being a pitcher! 

It's fascinating how different athletes respond to different kinds of pressure. Years ago during my days as a soccer goalie, I once blocked a penalty kick. How, I don't know, because I'm not very good at facing those kind of pressure-cooker, do-or-die situations. If I was a baseball player, I wouldn't be the Brian Wilson or Tim Lincecum type can get a clutch strikeout when it matters most... I'd be walking batters right and left. Perhaps that's why I gravitated toward running. Yes, in cross-country every point matters, and qualifying rounds and championship meets bring a great deal of pressure, but racing is such a different kind of pressure than game-based sports. I like that as a runner, I have some room for error. If I run a lap at 83 instead of 82 and fall slightly off the pace, I've got another couple miles later to make up for the mistake. In my 10K, the pressure is spread out over 33-34 minutes... I've got a good 6.2 miles to work through the pressure and, if I have a lapse in confidence, to "get my s*** together." Not so in baseball, football, soccer, etc -- every second, every pitch, every snap matters. 

Also, racing is so much about listening to your own body, making adjustments here and there, and trusting your training... if you put in the miles and the work, you can feel confident that you've left very little up to chance. However, no matter how many pitches you pitch, it still might not be your day... your shortstop could drop the grounder that should have been an easy out at first, your catcher might let one get past him (but never Buster Posey!), you might let the thousands of red tomahawks waving in the stands shake your confidence... At least in running, you possess a great deal more control over your performance. Yes, in an individual sport like running you've got no one to blame but yourself for a less-than-stellar performance, and while that can be hard to swallow sometimes, it's also empowering. One of the things I'm currently working on is improving my mental toughness during workouts and races so that when the pressure is on, I don't give in to those negative thoughts that undoubtedly sneak in somewhere around 6K into the race... If you look at my performances this track season, you can see my face in the video and my splits on the stopwatch which pinpoint exactly where I let the pressure get the most of me and I mentally collapsed. More often than not, it was self-induced pressure, self-created expectations, and personal fears that I let overwhelm me, to the point of hindering my performance. It's not something I'm proud of and it's not the type of runner I want to be... so I'm working through my self-confidence issues to be not the runner who succumbs to her fears, but the runner who instills fear in the hearts of her opponents.

On another note, it's been great to get such a positive reaction to my blog so far -- thanks for reading, and a special thanks to those who've commented, your words of support are encouraging!

In closing, I'm glad I'm a runner, not a baseball player... I'll leave baseball to Buster Posey :) GO GIANTS!

Fondly,
Kaitlin