Endure: Mind, Body and the Curiously Elastic Limits of Human Performance. Alex Hutchinson
>
Copyright
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
This edition published by HarpercollinsPublishers 2018
FIRST EDITION
Text © Alex Hutchinson 2018
Cover layout design ©HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Alex Hutchinson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at www.harpercollins.co.uk/green
Source ISBN 978-0-00-828509-8
Ebook Edition © February 2018 ISBN: 9780008277079
Version 2018-02-08
Dedication
For my parents, Moira and Roger, whose curiosity, rigor,
respect for differing perspectives, and talent for clarity remain
the model I strive for in everything I write.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Foreword by Malcolm Gladwell
CHAPTER 1 The Unforgiving Minute
CHAPTER 3 The Central Governor
CHAPTER 4 The Conscious Quitter
Foreword
By Malcolm Gladwell
All distance runners have races that, in retrospect, make no sense. I have two. The first came when I was thirteen, in my first year of high school. With no more than a month of training under my belt, I ran a cross-country race in Cambridge, Ontario, against boys two years older than me. One of them was among the best distance runners for his age in the province. I can summon the memories of that race even today, forty years later. I simply attached myself to the leaders at the beginning and never let go, and ran myself to complete exhaustion, finishing a close and utterly inexplicable second. I say inexplicable because although I would go on to have a creditable career as a middle-distance runner on the track in high school, that race remains the only truly superb distance race I’ve ever run. I’ve underperformed at anything over 1,500 meters for the rest of my running life.
That is: with one exception. Two years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I ran a magical 5K in a small-town race in New Jersey, finishing a full minute faster than any 5K I’d entered since returning to serious running as a Master. On that summer day in New Jersey, I was suddenly my thirteen-year-old self from forty years ago in Cambridge. I dreamt big. I marveled at my running prowess. And then? Back to mediocrity again.
Like the obsessive person—and particularly obsessive runner—that I am, I have puzzled endlessly over two those anomalous races. I have running logs from my teenage years, and I’ve gone back over them, looking for clues. Was there some indication in my earliest training of that kind of performance? Did I do something special? For my latter 5K, of course, I have infinitely more. Months of data from Garmin on every workout leading up to the event, and then still more from the day of the race itself: pace, cadence, splits. On more than one occasion, leading up to a race, I’ve attempted to replicate the exact preparation I had for my New Jersey PR. I want lightning to strike twice. It hasn’t, and I’m beginning to suspect the reason it hasn’t is that I don’t properly understand what it means to perform a feat of endurance. I think you can see where I’m going with this: I am the perfect audience for Alex Hutchinson’s Endure.
A few words about Alex Hutchinson. We are both Canadians and both runners, although he is both a better Canadian