HARAMBEE

Last week I ran my fastest 5K of the year and, incidentally, the fastest 5k since I've been out of school. It was significant because I haven't been running lately, just the WODs at CFJAX. The week of the run was the first week I have been able to do CF on a more consistent basis. The only long run I did that week was on a Wednesday. Not only that, I had to work the night before the race and didn't get home until 2am. I never would have guessed I would have run a 16:59 5K six hours later.

I attribute this performance entirely to CrossFit. I think that the merits of CF are widely known and have been shown to be effective in developing real fitness and athleticism for a wide spectrum of participants. Having been "a runner" since I was a sophomore in high school, I have been exposed to various training methods and have been able to observe the effectiveness of various approaches in myself and others. I have concluded that running is not an exercise in moving your legs so much as it is a challenge to hold yourself up. I think the emphasis of CF on strength and functionality of the core muscle groups holds untold benefits for runners.

How CF has improved my running is summed up in the word 'harambee'. Let me explain.

Awhile ago, I took out my old training logbooks that I have kept from high school. What stood out the most to me was that I did most of my running by myself even though I was on a team. I noticed something very interesting during the winter of my senior year of high school. A lot of the entries had comments referring to nagging little sores and aches and the cold (winter in Minnesota can SUCK!). Then there was a run with another guy on my team and the entry just says "10 miles. With Will. Fast." No mention of little aches. I had something of a moment right there. I understood for the first time that we HAVE to do things together. Being part of something allows you to not think about yourself, the little aches, cold and other distractions.

It is actually too bad that Steve Prefontaine is held up as the quintessential American distance runner. We admire him because he was a rebel, a loner; we love the idea of him out front alone, breaking the pack. However, if you read between the lines in his biography, you'll find that he talks a lot about the community of Eugene and how much he loved and needed the support of the fans and members of the community in Eugene and in Coos Bay, his hometown. He actually never lost a race longer than a mile at Hayward Field, a fact he attributes to not wanting to let down "his people." People don't really talk about that part of Prefontaine and we continue looking for another "lone wolf" that will take on the Africans and the rest of the world. It is the American way. And it is hopeless.

The inherit problems of this approach became apparent to me as I watched the Olympic Marathon. It was actually right about the same time I was going over my old logbooks. I was excited to watch Ryan Hall. In fact, I had spent the whole week prior telling people to watch the Marathon because we had a guy that was going to "take on the Kenyans." Well, he got crushed. But I was struck by something as I watched. The Kenyans stayed together. They were up there, sharing the pace, passing water bottles to each other - even to a guy on the Ethiopian team! At one point they flashed back to the two American hopefuls - Hall and Dathan Ritzenhein at about the half way mark and they were running 50 yards from each other! I wanted to scream at the TV. Actually I think I did. "What the hell are you guys doing?!" Get together and start eating people up. Nope. Actually, Ritzenhein ended up just running by Hall, finishing only 34 seconds apart!

I was amazed by an interview of the winner, Sammy Wanjiru of Kenya. Here's some excerpts (my emphasis):

"This is history for Kenya. Since 1968 we've been trying but we haven't ever won a gold medal in the marathon. I'm really happy to make Kenyan history."

"I will stay in Kenya because I want to be at home. In Japan, I was training alone and when you are training alone you can't be strong."

And from his teammate, who got 5th:

"In the end I think Sammy was excellent, and for me, I am OK. Kenya has a gold and that's what we came for."

I read up on the Kenyan training. Undoubtedly, they have definite genetic ability. But what I read was fascinating. This is where I came across the concept of harambee. It means "pull together" in Swahili and is actually on the Kenyan coat of arms and national flag. It is the overriding theme of Kenyan training. They do not train, work, or live alone. Training groups are all over the Rift valley, forming, usually around an experienced runner. The national team a couple of times a year gets together for camp, where they all live together and train three times a day. In his book 'The Lore of Running', Dr. Tom Noakes investigates all manner of scientific explanations for the dominance of Kenyan runners. Even he concludes that one of the most significant factors is their collective approach to their training and lives. I'm somewhat amused by all the people I know that go do work in Africa on mission trips and the like. I think Kenyans should come here and teach us a few things about working together and eating properly and being healthy in general. But that's a whole other diatribe.

The biggest advantage I have found in CF is working with a group. CrossFit embodies the contradiction that no one will do anything for us, but we can't go anywhere by ourselves. Everyone has experienced some triumphs with CF. But I if we're honest with ourselves, we'll admit that we've all been to that dark corner of our minds - we've all quit at some point. We've reached a point in a workout where, for all intents and purposes, we have stopped. But oddly enough we find our selves still moving. If we're honest, probably the only real honest-to-God reason is that because everyone else still is. Or because Whit, Chris, Meghan or JV are pushing us to move on; not quitting. Determination, discipline, and courage are all important things, but I've realized that Americans just emphasize them too much. We like to think that we don't need anyone but ourselves. We remember the many times that our own will power got us triumphantly to the edge of the cliff, but we forget the many times the only reason we even jumped was because of the courage and support we drew from others. For awhile, I always ran to separate myself from others. Not surprisingly, I have experienced a lot of frustrations. If we think we can make it all the way alone, these frustrations are absolutely inevitable. Training with everyone at CFJAX has changed my fundamental approach.

Another interesting thing about the race last week is that for the first time in a very long time, I went out, found a group of guys running about the pace I wanted and said to myself, "Just stay right here." At first, we felt each other out, but we started to work together, reeling in other people ahead of us. It really was a testament to CF and the value of the idea of 'harambee'.

I really wanted to express the things I have learned the past few months and say thanks for what you guys are doing.
- James P., CFJAX member and US Navy Helicopter Pilot.