“If you’re going to face a real challenge,
it has to be a real challenge. You can’t accomplish anything
without the possibility of failure.
— gary duane cantrell
—
I parted ways with my AI coach today.
I suppose there are benefits to having an AI coach. They have access to all the running information in the history of the world, at least up to 12 b.c. or so when the first computers were invented. They can make a fine template for training, and serve as a guardrail when needed.
But they have no soul. What is running without soul?
The whole philosophy of AI coaching is to set you up for success. But read the quote atop the page by Lazarus Lake, renowned crazy dude. Half the fun is knowing you could fail. Tony Hawk’s 900 during the 1999 X Games. Thierry Marie’s 234 km breakaway in the 1991 Tour de France. Joan Benoit leaving the pack behind at the 3-mile mark of the first women’s Olympic marathon in 1984 to take the gold. Yes, her uterus fell out, but still.
THAT’S what I want. To do stupid stuff, having no idea if I will survive. To jump off the cliff, hoping there’s water below. “Become legends in our own time, strike fear in the heart of mediocre talent everywhere!” Cassidy said in his immortal speech.
I DON’T want to do what I know I can do. I DON’T want to conservatively move up some arbitrary mileage guideline an AI minion has created while taking a break from its plans to destroy mankind. I DON’T want to have to argue with it every week over what mileage might or might not be appropriate. I DON’T want to explain for the 100th time that yes, I know my recovery numbers are bad because you never recover from the stuff I want to do.
I want to suffer. I want to get to the end of the run and think “My, yes, another lap indeed would be a delight.” I want to wonder halfway through a run if I’m going to make it back at all. I want to go for a second run in the evening simply because my legs hurt and maybe that’s a sign. Of something.
I want it to be a real challenge.
When I first discovered ultrarunning, Mr. Cantrell’s column was always my favorite read. He knows things. He believes. He regrets. And he keeps looking ahead. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess he has never had an AI coach explain to him why he’s a moron. He already knows. And he cares not.
If I’m going to face a real challenge, it has to be a real challenge. Gary Cantrell understands this. My AI coach does not.
Guess which one I’m going to follow.
