Good Form is a Bitter Pill to Swallow

Can you spot "bad form" when you see it? Can you tell a jogger from a runner when you drive past at 40 mph?

Let's try it another way. Great athlete, right? Winning a 70.3? Gotta be pretty good to do that...

I bet as a world-class triathlete, he represents the pinnacle of good form....

OMGF NOOOOooooOOO!!!! WHO IS THAT EGREGIOUS HEEL-STRIKER IN THIS PICTURE THAT CAPTURES ONLY A MICROSECOND OF A 4-HOUR RACE IT CAN'T BE TERENZO BOZZONE MY MIND IS BLOWN RIGHT NOW :::::::::(((((((((((( <- THAT'S A SUPERFROWNY FACE.

Defining good form


Can we finally admit that "good form" is a whole-body descriptor that has no empirically identifiable bearing on overall ability, race results or self-worth as a person and frequent internet forum poster?

And we know that there is good form, because we judge every athlete we see, anywhere, any time, based on some set of criteria that we've either been taught or intrinsically absorbed. I judge girls and old guys at the gym. I judge guys my age to see if I could beat them in a race. Even if they can haul ass, well, dammit -- I'll look better in second place because my form is way better. You do it too. Do not hide it.

It's all in the hips...and the feet, and the arms, and the neck, etc.


Why have we limited the "good form" discussion to heel vs midfoot strike? What if a heelstriker wins the marathon and a dedicated midfoot striker in New Balance Minimus shoes finishes in 3:42 and runs the last 10K bent at the waist, arms flailing, with two cramping calves? You wouldn't say he has better form. Why not? Because he ran slower. 

I have a 5K personal best of 17:19.* The way I see it, I have (or had) better form than everybody whose PR is slower than that, and probably worse form than everybody who is faster. Form is also a function of fitness. They can improve and decline together. I'm not in 17:19 form OR fitness right now, but I could get there again in a couple months without altering my footstrike, or my arm swing.

Ryan Hall basically midfoot strikes...but his arms look goofy. They swing wide and low, when nearly every other top marathoner's arms stay mid-chest at a 90-degree angle. He has "bad form," but if you are reading this, he would kick your ass in a running race of any distance. So he has better form than you.

This might over-simplify things...


...except that it doesn't. Screw my minimalism experiment. I ran two miles yesterday the same way I ran a 17-and-change 5K, and the same way I ran two 1:30 half marathons. And guess what? It felt better than the last three months of careful midfoot striking with a clipped stride and plantar fasciitis.

Quit being insecure about your form. If it sucks, your results will tell you. If it's good, your results will tell you. If you get hurt all the time, maybe you have bad form. If you get hurt once, maybe it's just a fluke. Either way, maybe you could work on running more upright, or activating your hamstrings more.

Just quit this footstrike debate until you can prove that every runner's chronic injury or abysmal 23-minute 5K is somehow related to the fact that they don't complete every run in zero-drop racing flats.

Train hard, train smart.
###

*No, I don't feel bad about dropping my race times. I've never averaged faster than 22.9 mph on the bike in a triathlon. I swim somewhere between 1:20 and 1:30/100 yards during races. I graduated with honors (but not a 4.0) and I am very average below the waist. Direct other queries to the comment box below.

Pro-Antisocial Media

I predict a new trend will soon sweep the internet: antisocial media.

You read that right. It's not that I'm anti-social media. Indeed, I am pro-antisocial media. And I fully believe there is room on the Web for both.

I'm not quite advocating a regression to the days of old, to the time when you could click on a website and not be pressured by a dozen buttons to Like, Digg, Retweet, Reddit, Mash or Stumbl the particular article. If you still want to do that, great.

But what if you want to remain willfully self-contained, with your privacy intact and the fact that you actually clicked on "One Weird Old-Timey Trick to Lose Belly Fat" unknown to each of your Facebook friends?

What I would suggest is a separate domain of "mirror" sites that look just like the originals, only without all the social features. Can you imagine a New York Times article without the tacky sidebar of sharing options? To their credit, they urge you "Recommend" instead of the boorish, monosyllabic "Like."

(Also: Can you imagine a New York Times article that you don't have to pay for? Through social media, you can jump the paywall! But I digress...)

My personal method of spreading content is admittedly officious:

1. A specific person or group of people has to come to mind when I read an article -- usually one that requires a triple-digit IQ to comprehend. (If you're reading this, you probably qualify.)
2. To make sure it only reaches the desired audience, I lovingly copy the URL and paste it into an email or private Facebook message. This move says, Hey, I thought you'd enjoy this -- and I don't want Facebook stalkers to know what we discuss when they aren't around.
3. If the article/video is so low-brow that I feel it can be appreciated by most of my friends, I'll post it as a link on Facebook. This ensures I get credit for having found it, read/watched it, and deemed it worthy of sharing.

Cherry-picking individuals when I could easily click one button and send it to nearly 800 people? My friends, there's nothing more antisocial than that.

How many people even remember the keyboard shortcuts for copy and paste? Most people's left pinky and forefinger have atrophied, because the one-click-fits-all mentality of social media has led them not to even consider who they're being "social" with.

By treating media as antisocial, I've immeasurably raised my appreciation for the social interactions I do have. It can't be long until other great minds understand this concept and ditch the Tweetcaster app from their iPad home screen. Instead, they'll return to paying a few quarters for a paper copy of the Wall Street Journal that they'll then leave behind to enrich another lucky soul.

And you can stop sharing Washington Post stories about Libya to make yourself look engaged. It's OK if you spend more time looking for shirtless pics of Robert Pattinson. With antisocial media, it's just easier to keep it to yourself.