This column by Simon Gear first appeared in Runners World SA in July 2008
US Olympic miler, Marty Liquori, once said, “If road running is rock and roll, then track is Carnegie Hall.” No matter where you lie on the continuum between once a week, once round the block joggler and Haile Gbresselassie, track is the real deal. When you step out onto an athletics oval, you are walking on holy ground, blessed by generations of sweat, hope and fear. Every lap you run, every interval sprinted, adds your own layer to the pain of those who came before you. For runners, tracks are our Stonehenge, our Western Wall, our rhino midden. It’s where we come to die, so that our dreams may live. Athletes don’t wee on fire hydrants. We run quarter mile intervals.
Track is a little like your five-a-day fresh fruit and veg. It’s abundantly clear that it is good for you and will make a world of difference to your running but it also requires a little organisation, a little effort and (in track’s case) a willing partner. I don’t care if you’re only aiming to get fit enough to run a timetrial fast enough to get back to the club house before the beer is finished, if you aren’t running track, you aren’t getting full bang for your training buck.
Last week I popped off with a mate to our local varsity stadium because he needed to complete a specific, measured fitness trial. He had never stepped onto tartan before and couldn’t believe that he was about to spend the next half an hour on the same field as two Olympic medallists and the Lions rugby backline. He didn’t say much about it at the time, but his eyes were shining when he walked back to the car afterwards. I completely understand why tracks are considered as something for the elite few because when you show up at one, suddenly you are shoulder to shoulder with runners that you recognise from TV. But has it occurred to you that it actually works the other way round? The reason you see those guys on the box is because they run track.
I’ve run track off and on for my entire running career and the people I have toed the line with have ranged from Hendrik Ramaala to a 120kg lady who was currently undergoing chemotherapy. There really are no excuses. Everyone comes away better and faster than if they had opted for the usual Tuesday evening 6kays-and-change around the neighbourhood. I don’t care who you are or why you run, a bit of speedwork will breathe magic into your life. And don’t worry about who else is there, just do your own thing. Like the driving range, the gym, the dancefloor and the beach, the only person spending any time thinking about how you look is yourself.
Keep it short. You’re going to be hard pressed to push even the most monster session much beyond half an hour. And often that includes the warm up. The fact is, if you’re there for a whole Sunday morning, you’re not running hard enough and may as well jog off somewhere scenic.
Run it fast. This goes way beyond the actual building of fast twitch muscles or whatever it is that makes your legs move quicker. On a track you run much faster than anywhere else and so you now have something to compare your timetrial finishing kick with. The mere memory of that speed should shave 5 seconds off the last kay of any race.
Allow yourself to glory in it. Track is sexy. It makes your heart sing and your spirit soar. Hamlet nailed it when he described man as, “the beauty of the world! The paragon of animals!” Critically, track doesn’t only make you fast, it makes you feel fast.
Get yourself a partner, a cool, dry mid-winter’s afternoon and your local school track, and go and try it out for yourself. Warm up well and start easy. Six 300s is a nice first session. Far enough to be work, short enough to feel the wind in your hair. You’ll be so glad you did.