The Orange Training Log Tales: Rooster

On Saturday, Race Day, my coach told us this story while we nervously stretched and milled about:

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OWL VISITS ROOSTER'S HOME

On Saturday, Owl visited Rooster at his home, where he guarded a dozen Mother Hens. Rooster demanded that Owl arrive after dark so as not to spook the Mother Hens, so Owl arrived as the moon rose high and the stars sparkled. The air still carried a little bite such that when one spoke little puffs of air punctuated every breath. 

Rooster insisted on giving Owl the Grand Tour, which Owl thought was pretty silly given he could see Rooster’s entire home from where he stood. Rooster’s home was not that big— just a patch of grass, a patch of mud, and a coop where the Mother Hen’s snoozed peacefully. But Owl played along.

Rooster strutted about his grass patch proud as can be. He scraped at it lovingly with gnarled, yellow talons. “Look at this grass,” he crowed with pride, “have you ever seen grass so green? Of course you haven’t. My ancestors once roamed plains as far as the eye can see, but now,” he sighed with the utmost humility, “this simple patch suits me just fine. Not that I couldn’t rule over a domain far larger, you understand, it’s just” he clarified, “why seek more than what sustains me?” Owl nodded and did his best not to roll his eyes.

Rooster strutted over to the mud patch proud as can be. His head disappeared then reappeared a moment later with a fat, wriggling grub in his beak. “Look at this mud,” he crowed with pride, “have you ever seen mud so bountiful? Of course you haven’t. My ancestors once hunted towering and ferocious game, but now,” he sighed with the utmost humility, “these modest grubs suit me just fine. Not that I couldn’t hunt game both towering and ferocious, it’s just,” he clarified, “why seek more than what sustains me?” Owl nodded and did his best not to roll his eyes.

Rooster strutted over to the coop where all the Mother Hens snoozed peacefully. He opened the door quiet as can be and let himself and Owl in. “Look at them,” he cooed softly, “have you ever seen anyone so regal? Of course you haven’t. Our ancestors once stood ten times our height, with teeth as long as my wing and talons longer than that, but now…” 

A commotion stirred him from his thoughts. His head cocked to the side, listening intently, then darted through the door. Surprised, Owl followed and found Rooster face to face with a massive, bristling Bobcat. Rooster raised a wing in warning, “Stay back,” he said sternly, “this fella looks like he’s ready for a fight.”

“Rooster, let’s get out of here!” Owl called, “You can’t possibly hope to fight that!”
“He’s not so tough,” Rooster insisted, with genuine bravado, “Just wait up in a tree, he’s not here for you.” The bobcat crept closer, padding forward on paws as as big as Rooster’s body.

“He’s not here for you either!” Owl cried, “He’s just here for the Hens!”
“If he wants to get to the Hens,” Rooster cooed, with a soft menace, “He is going to have to get through me.” The bobcat hissed and spat, baring teeth bigger longer than Rooster’s legs.

“Rooster!” Owl shrieked, “You’re being stupid!”
“My ancestors never backed down,” Rooster eyed his enemy, “And neither will I!” He leapt in a flurry of feathers as the bobcat pounced with paws and teeth. Rooster’s terrible talons carved at the bobcat’s face and the bobcat swiped at Rooster with a furious yowl. Rooster dodged beneath the blow then struck lightening quick, piercing the bobcat’s eye with his beak. The big cat wailed in pain and frustration, then turned his tail and bounded back into the woods. 

Rooster watched him go with beady eyes, panting, ruffled and bloody, then drew himself up tall as he could, with tail feathers erect and wings outstretched. He threw his head back and crowed to the sky, a crow full of pride, a crow that echoed across the heavens and through the ages. The sun, seemingly in response, peeked out over the horizon, flooding the field with slow, red light.

“Come on,” Rooster called to Owl, “Let’s go wake those lazy Hens.” He turned on his talons and strutted, proud as can be, towards the coop. Owl flew after him, wondering about the thin line between bravery and stupidity, and the mystical strength of unshakeable, even unwarranted confidence. 

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“You are here today,” our coach told us, “not because Mommy and Daddy met in college, or because your great grandparents immigrated here to build a better life, you are here,” he barked, “because your ancestors survived by running their game to the ground. You were not just born to do this, you were bred to do this. Go out there and show those imposters who think themselves predators that they’re really your prey.”

Some of us went out there and ran good races, some ran bad races, and though they were all very stupid races they were very, very brave.

The Orange Training Log Tales: Friday

On Friday, after a particularly rough tempo (in which nobody hit the splits they wanted to hit), my coach told us this story:

OWL FLIES SCORPION ACROSS THE RIVER

On Friday, Owl was hanging out by the fast-flowing river with Tortoise, watching the current carry fallen leaves. Along came Scorpion, wondering if anyone could take him across the water.

“I’ve heard there’s good hunting across the way,” he explained, “and I’d gladly share half my haul if you were kind enough to carry me.”

“Sorry Scorpion,” Tortoise said “I’ve eaten enough today, and have to stay in the sun to warm up a bit.”
“Understandable, understandable,” Scorpion replied.
“I can take y…” Owl started to say, before Tortoise quickly took him aside.
“Don’t do it,” Tortoise told Owl. “You’ll get halfway across before Scorpion will try to sting you. He tried it with me last time I ferried him across the river. We only made it across safely because my shell protected me. Otherwise,” he warned, “we would have both drowned.”
“Why would Scorpion try to hurt someone trying to help him?” Owl asked.
“He can’t help it,” Tortoise explained, “It’s just his nature.”

“That’s crazy,” Owl thought, “There’s not way anyone can be so stupid. Hey Scorpion!” He cried “I can take you!” Owl was awful hungry, after all. Tortoise just shook him head.
“Sounds good!” Scorpion said, “Let’s go! You won’t be sorry!”
“Before we go,” Owl cautioned, “You have to promise you won’t sting me.”
“Why would I sting you?” Scorpion asked, “Aren’t you doing me a favor? If I stung you we’d both drown!”
“Tortoise told me that it’s just your nature,” Owl said. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Understandable, understandable,” Scorpion said.
So Owl took Scorpion upon his back and flew across the river. Halfway through, he felt a sharp, painful prick beneath his feathers.
“What was that?!” he cried.
“Nothing, I didn’t see anything,” Scorpion said. Soon though, Owl felt faint and weak as Scorpion’s venom flowed through his veins. 

“Scorpion! You stung me!” Owl cried.

“Yup…” Scorpion admitted. Owl began to descend jerkily as his wings started to lock up.
“Why would you do that?” Owl asked sleepily as he crashed into the water.
“Sorry,” Scorpion said “It’s just my natu…” and they both hit the river and fell beneath the waves.
…

…

…

Owl awoke in a panic and stiffly fought his way to the surface, hacking and coughing on river-water. With sore limbs he fought the current, clawing his body to shore. Soggy and half-drowned, he wondered how anyone could give into their nature even at the compromise of their survival instinct. 

This one confused us a bit. Usually the morals were pretty clear-cut— give in to sacrifice, work hard, enjoy it, be consistent, but this seemed to be advocating the metaphorical equivalent of elbowing your teammates, or letting them elbow you. 

Finally, I asked my coach what he meant, and what our workout was supposed to be that day.
“Just sit down and rest!” He barked. “Go home! Take a day off! You have to race tomorrow.” 

But what about the larger goal? I asked, what about training through it for the bigger races, what about putting in the work…
“Stop!” He barked again. “That’s your scorpion right there. Work for the sake of work. The distance runner’s plight, the tragic burden. Ignore your nature and just rest,” he demanded.
So we did. We had to race the next day, after all. Why sabotage that?

The Orange Training Log Tales: Thursday

This is the story our coach told us on Thursday, before our standard, grueling, Thursday-tempo runs which we all hated.

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Owl goes to Bull's to Play

On Thursday, Owl went to go play with Bull. Bull lived in a field with wires all around it. There wasn’t much to do in the field, so they quickly got bored.
“Hey, Bull,” said Owl “Why don’t we go down to the River to play? I saw some Fun Things to Do down there.”
“Ok,” said Bull. So Owl took off towards the River. Bull got to the wire fence and hesitated. “Owl,” he said, “I don’t think I can get over it.” 

“You’re big and strong right? Can you just push through it?” Owl suggested.

“Ok,” said Bull. He pushed against the wires until the posts bent. Owl heard a snapping and crackling and the whole fence fell. Then Bull broke into a run and Owl flew after him. They got to River and did all the Fun Things to Do and it was a very good day.

The next Thursday, Owl went back to play with Bull. He flew to Bull’s field and found that there were now two wire fences around it. “Hmm,” thought Owl. “Hey Bull!” he called “Push through those fences and come climb the Hill! I found some Cool Things to See out there.”
“Okay,” said Bull. He pushed against the wires until the posts bent. Owl heard a snapping and crackling and the whole fence fell. Bull hesitated for a second before lumbering up to the next one and doing the same thing. Owl heard a snapping and a cracking and the second fence fell. Bull sagged for a second, seemingly exhausted, then broke into a run and Owl flew after him. They hiked up the Hill and looked at all the Cool Things to See and it was a very good day.

The Thursday after that, Owl went to go see Bull again. This time he saw three wire fences around Bull’s field. “Hmm,” thought Owl. “Hey Bull!” he called “Do you think you could push through three of these fences and come check out the Woods? I found lots of Tasty Things to Eat in there.”
“Ok,” said Bull. He pushed against the wires until the posts bent. Owl heard a snapping and crackling and the whole fence fell. Bull hesitated for a second before lumbering up to the next one and doing the same thing. Owl heard the snapping and crackling and the second fence fell. Bull swayed for a second then lumbered up to the third fence and pushed against the wires. Owl heard a snapping and crackling then Bull fell over.

“Bull!” he cried, and flew over to where his friend lay. He landed on the wires of the third fence, and heard a snapping and crackling then a jolt surged through his feet. He shot through the air, feathers flying, and landed next to his friend. “What,” he screeched, “Was that?”
“Oh the fences are electric,” Bull explained groggily.
“You were going through electric fences the whole time?” Owl asked.
“Yup,” said Bull. 

“But why?” 

“I wanted to play,” said Bull, “That was the only way to do it.”

He got up and pushed against the wires until the posts bent. Owl heard a snapping and crackling and the whole fence fell. Bull broke into a run and Owl flew after him, wondering at how much he’d be able to endure just do have a little fun.

The Orange Training Log Tales: Wednesday

On Wednesday, when we were starting to feel the workload, our coach told us this story:

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Owl and Spider Go To Dinner

On Wednesday, Owl went to Spider’s for dinner. He decided to arrive early, to see if he could help. When he got there, though, Spider wasn’t making dinner, he had just started weaving a web. 
“Hey Spider!” Owl called, “Why are you making a web right now?”
“Hey Owl!” Spider called back, “I have to make a web every day.”

“Oh, okay,” Owl said, and sat down on a branch. He watched Spider spindle and toil, spindle and toil. It looked like an awful lot of work to do by oneself. 
“Hey Spider!” Owl called, “Can I help with that?”
Spider giggled, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, okay,” Owl said, and stayed put. He kept watching Spider spindle and toil, spindle and toil. He watched him weave the strands into tight, intricate patterns. It seemed to take a very long time. 
“Hey Spider,” Owl called, “Do you have to make it so complicated?”
“Yup,” Spider responded.

“Oh, ok,” Owl said, still confused. He sat and watched Spider spindle and toil, spindle and toil. Hist stomach began to growl. 
“Hey Spider,” Owl called, fluttering over to the web, annoyed, “I thought we were going to eat dinner!”
“Listen,” Spider said. “I have to make the web right now, it’s how I’m going to catch our dinner. You can’t help me because your big feathery wings are great for flying but terrible for weaving. And I have to make it this complicated or else dinner would just fly right through without getting caught. We are going to eat a magnificent feast, but we are going to take the time and do it right.”
“Oh, ok,” Owl said, sat back on the branch. He reflected on patience and discipline, and how lucky he was to have such a wise, crafty friend as Spider. 

(Spider would never admit it, but he could have started the web a lot earlier in the day-- he had just stayed up late the night before with wolf trading jokes and stories and probably a drink or two. And he didn’t have to make the web so complicated, he just believe that if you were going to sit in something all day you might as well make it look good. Spider may have been crafty and wise but he was also a little vain.) 

The Orange Training Log Tales: Tuesday

This is the second story my old coach told me one Tuesday after a track workout:

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Owl and Wolf Go A-Hunting

On Tuesday, Wolf invited Owl to come hunting. 

Owl soared high in the air, scouting the snow below. Wolf padded through the snow, sniffing the air. Soon, Owl spotted a Rabbit. 

“Wolf!” he shrieked, “Over there!” and wolf took off, grinning his wolf grin, loping along after it. Just as his paw seemed to swipe its tail, though, the Rabbit sped away. Wolf pulled up, panting puffy clouds of hot breath. 

“Oh no!” Owl cried, swooping down to a branch below, “It looked like you almost had that one.” Wolf just shrugged, grinning his Wolf Grin, and padded off.

Owl soared high in the air, scouting the snow below. Wolf padded through the snow, sniffing the air. Soon, Owl spotted the Rabbit again. 

“Wolf!” he shrieked, “There it is!” and as soon as he called his name Wolf took off, tongue lolling, grinning his wolf grin, fairly flying after it. Just as Wolf’s nose grazed the Rabbit’s fur, the Rabbit sped away. Wolf pulled up, panting puffy clouds of hot breath into the air.
“Oh no!” Owl cried, swooping down to a branch below, “I thought for sure you had it that time!” Wolf just shrugged, tongue lolling, grinning his Wolf Grin, and padded off.
Owl soared high in the air, scouting the snow below. Wolf padded through the snow, sniffing the air. Soon, Owl spotted the Rabbit a third time.
“Wolf!” Owl shrieked, but Wolf had already taken off, spit flying, tongue lolling, grinning his Wolf Grin and soaring over the snow. He pulled up even to the fleeing Rabbit. He lowered his head, opening his jaws as wide as he could, and plucked the Rabbit mid-stride. He pulled up, panting puffy clouds of hot breath through the Rabbit’s fur.

 Yes!” Owl cried, swooping down to a branch below, “You got it!” Wolf pulled up, panting puffy clouds of hot breath through the Rabbit’s fur. He opened his jaws and let the Rabbit go. The terrified animal sped off into the woods.

 “No! Why did you do that?” Owl cried. Wolf just shrugged, spit flying, tongue lolling, grinning his Wolf Grin and turned to Owl. He stared at him with wild, yellow Wolf-Eyes, full of Love for the Hunt.

“I wasn’t done,” he growled, and padded off. 

So owl soared high into the air, scouting the ground below, wondering at the relationship between Work and Reward, Delayed Gratification, and whether his friend Wolf was wired entirely correctly. 

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After telling us that story he made us do two more reps. That man was a sadist, albeit a poetic one. There is something to be said about giving into your nature, though, and loving what you do.

The Orange Training Log Tales: Monday

I had a coach back in the day, who-- like most religious leaders-- liked to speak in Parables. He was halfway a mad scientist, halfway a wizard. One week, every day (for a whole week), he told a story instead of giving us a workout. It was maddening, but it imparted some wisdom, which I'll analyze afterwards:

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OWL AND TORTOISE GO ON A TRIP

On Monday, Owl and Tortoise decided to go on a trip. They wanted to go Very Far Away. Owl, like most birds, can fly Very Far very quickly, so he spent hours and hours looking at maps, checking cross-breezes, weather patterns, bearings and trajectories. Tortoise, like most tortoises, can walk Very Far but very slowly. Lots of things would change over the course of a Tortoise’s trip, and you can’t plan for everything. 

He waited patiently while Owl fretted over his charts.

Once owl he had determined an Efficient Vector to get Very Far away very quickly, he moved on to packing, picking out his lightest provisions, determining optimal arrangements, and possible refueling points along the way. Tortoise sighed as Owl continue to fret, took what he could carry on his back, and set off.

By the time Owl had packed everything, the sun was setting, and Turtle was far over the Horizon. No matter-- Owl could reach the Horizon in no time. He flew like a bullet towards the setting sun, which, as it fell, caused the air to cool and created disruptive convection currents, tumbling Owl this way and that and throwing off his sense of direction. Frustrated, he flew to a tree, perched on it, and poured over his maps to plan out a new route that accounted for the cooling air (it didn’t matter that it was getting dark out-- Owls have very good eyes and can read in the dark, too).

Tortoise, far over the Horizon, wished that he had someone to talk to. Journeys With Someone to Talk To are usually more fun than Journeys Alone, but Journeys Alone are always more fun than Staying Home.

So he hummed a tortoise-march to himself, and continued on his way to Very Far Away.  

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Basically, my coach was fed up with us always asking "what's my run today?" We ran the same thing every Monday-- sixty minutes with strides, same as every Monday, unless it was prior to a race, then it was 45 minutes with strides, unless we were injured, then it was nothing, but none of his athletes were injured very often. 

In my later years, I get caught up reading all kinds of training plans from great coaches, training logs of great athletes; I can't tell you how many "Day Ones" I've had for a new block of the best possible optimal training that falls apart after a few weeks because, really, the planning is easy-- full of potential, so exciting when you think about what could happen when everything goes right. It's the execution that's difficult, and it's best you just keep it simple and get started right now.