Planning: from Hope to Happening

“Plan your work, then work your plan.”

“Failing to plan is planning to fail.”

You’ve heard them all before – the mantras about the importance of planning. You plan your holidays, plan your budget/s, plan a weekend away, plan a night out, plan a trip to the countryside or the city. You most likely follow plans at work. And, have plans for your kids’ education.

What about your training? And racing? Are they planned?

Maybe you follow a weekly training schedule or routine out of habit, and then “hope” that you race faster. Or, a monthly program rehashed from the internet, a magazine, or a squad coach, again provides your race-day “hope”.

Most recreational runners (triathletes, cyclists) simply want to be fast(er) now. They think that if they train a little further or longer, a little harder, for more days of the week, and take less rest, that they can have those big PB’s, stay ill-health and injury free, have life-balance, and get better from year to year. All in “hope”.

During running Performance Reviews, Program Revisions, and in developing Strategic Performance Plans for individuals, I always ask to see their  (current) training plan.

In some cases, I get a vague outline of a week’s training sessions. Sometimes I see a print-out of a loose schedule or routine. Or, 3-4 week’s of sessions presented in A4 landscape. Beyond going a little further or faster each week, each session is essentially the same. Again, in “hope”.

Sometimes I can tell the software program, book, or squad they’ve got it from. “Thanks, a program. Yet, where’s your plan?”

I often get “Oh, I thought this was a plan?”. Let’s clarify:

A training plan is a bigger-picture guide. It may be a Long Term Athletic Development plan over 6-8 years for a very good junior athlete/runner. It may be an Olympic or quadrennial plan for an elite competitor. It is usually an Annual or Yearly that guides and directs most triathletes toward and through their next competitive season. A triathlete that travels from north to south hemispheres may have two race-season planned into a year. These, along with extended lead-up periods of time to (longer events) of, say, 16, 20, 24 or 26 weeks duration, are usually referred to as macrocycles. Each of these plans are premised upon an aim, training objectives or outcomes, and various (objective) performance goals.

A training program supports the direction of your plan. It commonly, but is not limited to, 3-4 weeks of structured training sessions aimed to support key elements of your performance improvement. The sessions should not be ad hoc, nor should they simply require you to go further or faster in a weekly format. Each program should be reviewed, assessed and revised at it’s end, and the outcomes fed into the structure, content, methods and loading of the next program – yet, still based upon the direction of your plan. Ego interferes here.

A training schedule is a 5-14 day period of time where various training sessions are completed to meet specific outcomes. For most, given the structural demands of modern life – a job, family, study etc – a 7 day schedule is used. Different sessions, methods of training and loading (patterns) are used on different days to develop or maintain particular training outcomes.

A training routine is a training schedule where the same type of session is followed on the same day of the week. For some, it’s the same session from Monday-to-Monday or Tuesday-to-Tuesday and so on with 1 or 2 more reps, a few extra kms, or the same reps a little faster.

A training session is the working and practical component of your schedule. It’s work time. It, and it’s smaller training units, are what over time, should take you from HOPE to HAPPENING.

All that said:

•  a novice - a newbie - to running or, in particular, triathlons, without much of an endurance fitness background, will get better regardless of what they do – some training is better than none
• runners and triathletes improve over their first 2-3 years as they accumulate race-experience, and their body adapts to the increased demands of regular training
• habits are set up over the first few season/years too – some positive, some aren’t. The most common habit that has infiltrated running and triathlon training: “if some is good, more must be better”
• plans should not be too prescriptive. Providing guidance and direction, they’re structured to ensure you do appropriate types of training and recovery in optimal proportions, at strategic times, for defined periods of time…to ensure improved performance “happens”
• not all sessions should be strictly defined and have measurable outcomes. Many runners do train for enjoyment, fun and social reasons – don’t lose perspective on these
• a good plan, program and supporting schedule or routine, has built in flexibility

If you’re serious about getting better and being more competitive - plan your training, then train to your plan. Enjoy your training and racing more, and minimize burnout, boredom, ill-health and injury – plan your training, then train to your plan. Planning training and training to their plan/s – is bread and butter for true competitors and the elite. They make it “happen”.

Train smart. Train with purpose, and enjoyment. Plan. Training to ensure you don’t race in hope, train to ensure you improve and the racing will take care of it self. Make it happen. 

Matt Fitzgerald's Iron War - the BIGgest race

Matt Fitzgerald’s Iron War is a terrific book, a great story, and a prologue of man all in one.

It’s the story of a BIG race in more ways than one.

Iron War is a book that Matt poured his heart and soul into to tell a story. In that sense it is a book by a man.  The story is about two men and a race - a storyline built over many years, thousands of kilometres, and countless emotions, and culminated in the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon Championship in 1989. In this sense it is a story of two competitors and one intuitive, defining moment. Ultimately, Iron War portrays the journey of man – in a world that is becoming smaller and smaller, yet less communicative – how collective and individual meaning can be sought through athletic and endurance endeavours.

Matt’s relationship with writing and his dad, and fitness, running and triathlons has a long and impressive history. Matt uses his skills and a variety of resources – personal interviews and conversations, magazine articles, books, and radio and television productions – to put you in the shoes of two of triathlon forefathers and champions as they develop as athletes and mature into men.

Iron War covers the history and development of triathlon – and it’s movers and shakers – in detail I’ve neither seen nor heard elsewhere. Matt put’s to rest some of the myths regarding the inaugural Ironman triathlon, highlights the evolution of the USTS through, firstly, San Diego, and how though these, the popularity, marketing and organization of triathlon events sowed the seeds for what is now a worldwide recreational and competitive phenomenon.

Matt artfully tells the story of Iron War’s two protagonists – Dave ‘The Man’ Scott, and Mark ‘Grip’ Allen. He dives into their history and their relationships. He highlights their sporting achievements and personal journeys, and how they bring each man to a single, defining moment 2 miles from the finish line. He follows Scott, through a childhood of racing buses to school by bike and on foot, through an adolescence of swimming, water-polo and weight training, on a continual quest to discover his physical, mental and emotional limits – limits tested at all extremes. Scott’s challenge was much about Nature, and the gifts given to us by Mother Nature and her brother, Time.

Allen’s upbringing is followed as closely, nearly draft-legal. Self-doubt, a crucifying painful inner-voice, and a father that had next to no interest in nor intimate relationship with, accompanied Allen through a journey of continually seeking approval (and proof to himself). From dog-paddling across a diving-board pool, to regularly choking as a competitive teenage swimmer the lad discovered that he could run. Lifeguard events, and a burgeoning interest into the spiritual side of life and living, proved to be Allen’s springboard into triathlon.  Allen’s journey was much to do with Nurture, and how attitudes, values and behaviors are inherited as strongly as slow twitch muscle fibres, efficient lungs and a huge heart.

The human heart is many things – an organ, a metaphor, a pump, a charm, a pin cushion, a house, a rose, a gift, and a start and finish line. It sinks, it flutters, it beats, it rocks, it grows, it bleeds, it hurts, it loves , it starts. And stops. It can be given away and accepted; it can be trained and rested, it can be transplanted and nurtured; and, it can be driven. And broken.

Matt Fitzgerald expertly and effortlessly takes us on the journey of  Scott and Allen as they compete against and with each other, compete against others and against themselves in what has been described as the greatest Triathlon (race) ever. He highlights the build-up to the race with grace and the excitable anxiety we competitors encounter pre-race.

And, beyond a start befuddled by the governor of Hawaii, Matt takes us stroke-by-stroke, mile-by-mile , and stride-by-stride  - in near-40C heat among the lava fields of Kona, up out of the town of Kailua-Kona and back, through a defining  moment of intuition and fortitude.

Matt superbly places you there, and in the race. You’re there as spectator and support crew. You’re there as an interested on-looker, and as a competitor. You’re there as reporter, and reader. You’re there as Scott. And you’re there as Allen. You’re wondering what they’re wondering; your wondering what he’s wondering; and you’re wondering what you may.

And, in an indescribable moment of  “feel” – that great human trait – one triathlete leaves the other behind. And leads him to the finish live. One journey to the finish-line is first, yet not finished. The other journey, second, is still unfulfilled.

For a decade Scott and Allen owned the Hawaii Ironman. Each owned his destiny on that day, and beyond. Matt Fitzgerald may not own the story of Iron War, yet he told it the way all good stories should be told: with adventure, and with heart.

Buy a copy of Matt Fitzgerald’s Iron War, take the adventure. And listen to your heart.  Challenging ourselves as people, and as (tri)athletes, in seeking clarity and understanding – even if through a ‘culture of pain’ - is everyman’s war, and perhaps, ultimately, the BIGgest race.

The BIG Race 3

Mornings in Melbourne deliver all sorts of things.
Particularly in Winter.

At 7 this morning, when the 10km and 21km Run Melbourne events started, it was crisp and a northerly wind detracted from any bonus warmth the approaching Sun may have promised. Yet, it didn't deter the many of thousands running, jogging and walking.

A handful of us (in2runners) had the pleasure of enjoying parts of our Sunday long run while running alongside the course.

Although few words were uttered, the faces of many told much of their journey. Particularly at the finish-line.

A race is often a BIG thing for athletes; for people that compete against others or themselves, and against the course and the clock. For some it's about participating and finishing.

Yet, what is it that can make a race BIG?

A BIG race can come in all shapes and sizes, obviously. More importantly, the 'big' is more pertinent as to why it is important to the people that enter, participate, race and finish.

Although the origin of the word BIG is a bit of a mystery, it's evolved from a meaning of powerful or strong. I like this idea. It's a different perspective on BIG as large. This sense creates the idea of BIG conviction, strength and determination.

A BIG race, then can be any of:

• a race that is longer or further than you've ever done, or dreamt possible
• a race distance you complete faster than before - an IWR, an Individual World Record (or PB)
• a race or course that only goes up - a mountain run
• a race or course with large changes in elevation
• a race you paid big entry, travel and accommodation fees to enter and attend
• a race with 5-, 10-, 50- or 70-thousand people in it
• a race in a big city: London, Tokyo, Berlin, Rotterdam, Paris
• a famous race: Comrades, Sydney's City to Surf
• one of USA's BIG four: Chicago, New York, Boston
• the only race you do, ever
• your first race, your first marathon; your first cross-country, trail-, mountain-, track-, parkour- or urban-run
• a race you enter and raise money for charity
• the key focus or priority race for your season or year
• your first team or relay race
• the only or first race you beat your training partner, spouse, child, parent, coach, boss
• the race that sends you off to a representative team
• the race that opens the eyes of selectors, recruiters and scholarship providers
• the race you beat your ultimate rival in: Coe vs Ovett, Tergat vs Gabrisellesie, *Scott vs Allen
• a race you need to finish or beat someone for a bet
• a race (event) that see you travel interstate or overseas
• a race set along one of the world's natural or built wonders: by the Nile, the Grand Canyon, the Great Wall of China
• a race at a championship level: school, region, province, state, national, international
• a race at the Commonwealth, European, World championship, or Olympic Games
• a podium finish
• a first place
• just finishing
• a race that provides proof
• a race that let's you know you are okay
•  a race that inspires you
• a race that reminds you of why you run
• an event that reminds you that you're of the human race

Races can deliver all sorts of things. Some are BIGger than others.

Their importance to individuals has the potential to deliver moer than a crisp Winter morning in Melbourne.

At least, they deliver a knowing and warm smile.

And something so small can be so big!

The Big Race 1

Time goes so quickly.
It's a little after 6 on a Sunday morning. It's drizzling outside. I'm coaching runners at 8am. My sleep has been and gone. So fast.

I check the date.
It's been 3 months since I've been here with you. Not in spirit, because I visit running and running thoughts and running words every day. Just in blog form. Summer has been and gone. So fast.

The date tells me more.
Much of my last 3 months has been planning 2012 (and beyond) with others: with you, with runners, with coaches, with sports-medicine professionals. and with sports-scientists. amongst all that planning there are a few regular questions. One of those asks about your race/s. What is your Big Race for the year?

And, as I speak, one Big Race is about to get underway here in Melbourne. It's not a running race. It does have a run component. It's the inaugural Melbourne Ironman Triathlon. I think it may actually be the Asia-Pacific Championships.

Regardless, with the elite men finishing in a few-ticks around the 8-hour mark, the elite women close-by, and a cut-off time of 17-hours for 1,700 or so competitors. It is a Big Race, in many ways. A marathon is an achievement in itself. Completing a marathon after a 3.8km swim and a 180km cycle capitalises the "A" in achievement.

I dabbled in triathlons through the late-80s and early 90s. I liked to go fast. I liked to run fast. Sprint and Olympic distances were my preference. In fact, there existed only a handful of world Ironman events in those days. And the IM logo never existed. Personally, slugging out 6-, 7- or 8-minute kms is not my idea of racing or competing in an event. More importantly, I certainly get the allure of this for others: it's the challenge, and the promise, and the rebuttal. And the commitment

As Sascha Baren Cohen would have once said as Ali G, "Respect!". As Borat, "Very nice!"

Go you IMMrs.

What makes a race big though? We all have 'The Big Race'.
What's yours?
What's mine?

It's 7.15am, With pre-race nerves now gone, the IMMers are about to "be".

All sorts...

Runners come in all shapes and sizes.

And speeds and styles.  And outfits and gadgets.

I got wondering about this while out and  about coaching this morning. The pleasure of coaching my in2running squad was magnified by the beautiful sunrise and early morning weather. The Botanical Gardens ('The Tan') in Melbourne attracts runners of all types: runners like you, runners like me, and runners like us.


Some speed by, others shuffle by; some stride past, many sigh past; some ease along, others pant-n-puff strong; yet, all move in their own way, and run along.


After our session I rewarded myself with a an hour-and-some of run/walk. I took my new Garmin Forerunner for a test run. Thank you to in2runners for this generous gift. It's nicknamed the Forderunner, hehe.

Then, I got to coach some speedy and agile football players, both Soccer and Australian Rules Football. More different shapes and sizes and speeds. And needs.

To this point, we've looked at some basics of program design. Let's take it a little further. As we do that let's be clear on the different types of running. Strangely enough their are different types of types of running. What the?

There are types defined by differences in gait, technique and mechanics: walk, jog, run, sprint.
There are types defined by distance: sprints, middle-distance, long distance, ultra-. Each of these have their own classifications and event names.
There are types defined by obstacles: hurdles or 'sticks', steeple-chase.
There are types defined by terrain: hill, trail, cross-country, even orienteering and rogaining.
There are types defined by outcomes: health-related, fitness-related running, performance-related running. Some even run for it's contribution to aesthetics.
There are types defined by relationship: individual, team, age-group.
There are types defined by no definition, yet for the exhileration and the experience.

Training effectively for each of these different types of running simply requires us to understanding running in context: who it's for, what they're training for, and the demands of their event.


A one-approach to training for running does not fit all people, nor does it fit all athletes or all events. It certainly doesn't fit all outcomes or goals, and nor should it remain the same for all people over time. This is Training Programs 101, 102 and 201.


Although sprints, middle-distance and endurance events all involve running...training for them requires different and individualised programs over time.  Yet, each effective program will be based upon sound athletic development principles of training.


In blogs to come I'll share my experiences with you about program design for endurance events.


Endurance runners come in all shapes and sizes.

What sort are you, and me?

What's in a name?

"Hey, where're you going?

Brad didn't really want to know. He didn't have his glasses so couldn't make out Steve getting changed.
He was trying to drag Steve and few other friends to the pub. It was beer o'clock!

"I'm about to train, dude!"
"Ah, you're going for a jog...?"
"No, hey, listen man! I've told you before I don't jog. I'm going for a run. I'm a runner!"
"Jog, run...what's the difference?" Brad naively asks.
"There's a big difference, dude!"

Is there? Really?
Many years ago I read we all start as joggers and at some stage, when we enter a race, we become known as racers. And only when we see and experience running for what it is do we become true runners. At the time, I was a racer, one who competed against others and times. The last decade or so, I've morphed to become one of those types - a true runner.  Oh, I'm still competitive though, just not against others; my racing days are done.
Which are you?

Brad likes to ride regularly, as transport to and from his workplace. He likes to be known as a cyclist, not a 'rider'. Steve is into triathlons, yet never refers to himself or other tris as 'paddlers', 'riders' and 'joggers'.

Brad found his way to a pre-pub cafe; one that overlooked the park where Al and Steve would run. Brad and a mate decided to sit and wait for them... http://youtu.be/F0BfcdPKw8E

If you run, where are you going?

The Competitor...

On the wall in my hallway, sits a reminder of my competitive spirit. It's the first thing I see each time I walk in the front door at home.

There is no tougher race than the race against oneself. Other competitors and times matter not in the finish. The race against and, ultimately,  for oneself is the race we all strive to win. And only through trusting oneself to test one's limits, and having the courage to succeed can we all be winners...compete well my friend(s).


I wrote this in 1993 and dedicated it to the best coach I ever had...Dr Ron Brinkkert.

The Athlete in us all, 2

We are all athletes ... each and every one of us who runs (walks, swims, skates, cycles, rows, skis, bowls, hits, kicks, lifts or flips, and scores).

And the word athlete does have a romantic, albeit humble, origin. It is through this humility that true athleticism touches us all.

The Greek word 'athletes' originates from Latin, 'athleta' and 'athlein', which literally means to "compete for  a prize".

As runners we all compete for prizes and, in one sense, perhaps an ultimate prize. 

As we evolve as runners we learn that the prizes we compete for are no longer caught up in podiums and places; nor times and trophies; nor medals and muscles; nor ribbons, and ranting and raving. 

It is in the afterglow of competition and achievement, and on the reflection of a journey that started well before the starting line - somewhere way back with the courage to say I can and will do this - and on the journey, one step after another, km after km and week after week and year after year, we discover those prizes. Those prizes are the benefits of running and these are the essence and heart of why you and I run, and continue to run.

If competition is the basis for athleticism, we may ask the question 'what is competition?'. Competition isn't you and I competing (for places, or podiums, or prizes) against others, it is you and I competing with others, striving toward the same ends, striving together.
Occasionally I may finish in front of you, and (all) the others.

Competition comes form Latin 'competere', made up of com- (coming together) and -petere (to strive).

As athletes we strive together; we strive, not in rivalry or opposition, but as a community.

These are the people I coach.

Now...where did I put my drink?

The Athlete in us all...

As a school teacher I often got asked, "What do you teach?"

I'd cheekily reply, "I teach young people!"

"Yes, sure, but what to you teach them?"

"Oh...I like to think I teach them positive values and behaviours to use in different contexts, and that everyone has the right to be heard and prosper."

"Have you been drinking Paul?"

Laughing, I always knew what was coming...

"I do that through teaching skills, knowledge and appreciation through positive experiences with physical activity, maths concepts, and scientific principles...I teach Physical Education, Maths and Science."

I haven't taught for a couple of years now. I coach. Again.

When I tell people that, of course, I get asked, "What do you coach?"

Laughing on the inside, "I coach people. I coach people (who want) to get better. I coach athletes."

And the circle completes itself.

That said, good teaching and good coaching share much in common. They are both about building relationships and journeys - providing positive context and experiences (physical, social and emotional skills; sessions, activities) for others to develop or improve. Their journey: to reflect upon where they've been, their past; to become more aware of where they are, their present; and aspire and plan and build towards their future.

But what type of athletes do I coach?

Arguably, there are many types' of athletes: amateur, professional, commercial, weekend, casual and so on.

Between you and me...people want to hear that I coach football, soccer or volleyball or basketball, or track-and-field, or, god-forbid, runners and triathletes (LOL). I've been there, done that. I don't coach the sport any more. The skills, rules and physical capacities to participate and compete and win in their sport are tools for coaching the person. Thus, I coach people.

Yet, to me, we are all athletes...each and every one of us who runs (walks, swims, skates, cycles, rows, skis, bowls, hits, kicks, lifts or flips).

I used to think that the word athlete may come from a Greek or Roman God and that his etymology laid in a romantic Latin stem: someone like, say, Athletik or Athlus or Athlaton. Alas, no!

The word's origin is more humble. It has no deity status. It has no impropriety toward immortality. And for the better, as it brings it's roots undeniably closer to me and to you, to all of us.

More on this tomorrow... 

Smart Training

Coffee often brings out the best in people.
Not the stuff you actually drink, but the convention of sitting down, having a 'coffee', and enjoying the company of friends, family or colleagues.

Hang-on, I may need to retract that statement! I know plenty of people that have to have a coffee (literally) before they can manage anything close to understandable, let alone good, or best...hehe.

I had a 'coffee' with an athlete mid-arvo yesterday. We talked about all sorts of things, and solved most of the world's problems. Coffee is so powerful!

Of course, we talked training. The athlete asked about Smart Training.
Training means different things to different people.

We'd both heard about smart training in terms of goal-setting: Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, and Timely. It's a nice, if not out-dated, acronym.

I added another smart acronym perspective: Self-Monitoring, Analysis and Reporting Technology.

In many ways training is an approach to achieving the aims you seek form your running. Smart training is a more-or-less systematic approach to achieving your outcomes or objectives. Smart training is knowing what you want to achieve, and going about achieving that. It's about consideration, planning, implementation, assessment and reflection. And it's about time, and effort. Some of it is science.

And it's about being flexible and enjoying what you do, and not pushing all the time. It's being human, and intuitive. Some of it is art.

Some of us run (we call it 'training') simply because we enjoy it, and the benefits running brings us when we're diligent. And that, as an end in itself, is cool. Some would see it as training for the sake of training. I doubt it can ever be that simple, as there is always something that attracts the runner to running, and to continue to run: not all of us run (and train) to race, compete or perform.

That said, I could (and will, soon)  make a case that we are all competitors and athletes.

In short, smart training is about understanding the difference between training hard and hard training. Understanding is not simply knowing; it implies consideration, and application. Understanding underpins application to context, a form of wisdom.


Training hard is about training in a manner to achieve given objectives: the outcomes of a particular activity or drill, the outcomes of a given training session or microcycle or phase of training. In this essence, training hard is about directed-training: training that is planned with intent and purpose, and executed or completed with same the same intent.

Smart training in terms of 'training hard' is a form of athletic intelligence, and underpins all good training and athletic development programs.

If an 'easy' session is planned, then training hard dictates that's what you do. If you're session focuses on technique, speed, economy, race-pace, lactate tolerance or is meant to be long then that's what you're (meant) to do. If you're meant to spend 30 minutes completing well designed trunk (or 'core') and leg circuit the...guess what...do it!

Training hard is often the more mentally challenging; it's tougher to do! Easy sessions, and lighter weeks, and a day-off are often 'hard' for many to complete. As are true 'physically hard' sessions.

On the contrary, hard training is the 'soft' option. Hard training has you going out and 'busting your boiler', 'smashing yourself' and 'hitting the track' (or gym) each and every time you train. Sure, there is no shortage of sweat and work and fatigue here. And you may even finish thinking "Yeah man, that was some workout!" Funnily enough you said the same thing after your last workout, and the one before that, and the similar ones you did last week. It's about a hit, a fix, instant gratification.

Anyone, any fool, can work-out and complete sessions that feel hard one after another. Over time, these sessions all tend to be the same in nature: neither truly hard, nor easy, nor moderate. They become a conglomeration of workouts completed one after another.

This is not training, and certainly isn't smart.

It's a form of work, and work and training are not synonymous; they are not the same thing. Of course, run training requires physical work - yes, you've got to put out! It also requires you to invest time, emotion and mental effort.

Smart, directed work over time - true training - is much more than going out and simply exercising regularly, or working out when you feel like it.

It's knowing what you're training for and towards, and directing your time, energy and emotion in doing that.

It often requires patience, and delayed gratification.

Who has patience though when one needs their hit or fix of coffee!