Optimal Training

Welcome new readers!

Welcome to all new readers!  This is a blog on the mental side of running.  My hope is to help every runner develop the mindset of a champion.  To that end, I write original material, cover recent running news, and highlight interviews and commentary from elite athletes that provides insight into how they think about their training.

You won't find any training programs here.  Not for your body, at least!  I believe, like Sebastian Coe, that the most important nine-inches to train is right above your neck.  So I hope you can find some useful tips to incorporate into your training from this blog!

If you're already a fan, how about joining the Optimal Training Facebook group?

If you're new, here are some quick links to some of my more popular posts:

Shifting focus - thinking bigger

I had a rare break from work this evening and stopped by 400meteroval to see what's happening in the world of running.  It turns out, Malta has a newspaper.  Yes, I know that has nothing to do with running, but it does have to with my not knowing it.

This article caught my eye because it was titled "Stop thinking small".  I thought it was about track and field in general, but it was actually about track and field athletes.  Even better.

Apparently, Gelindo Bordin, the 1988 gold medal winner in the marathon, was in Malta and was discussing the state of the sport in general, and Maltese athletics in particular.  This one comment caught my eye:

"I think that the most difficult obstacle is your history which sets a mindset where you don't think that it is possible. The challenge is to beat that belief. I'm sure that you're still thinking small.

"If you aim for the national record in the marathon that is 2:26, then that is your limit. However, if someone convinces you that you must target a 2:11 time then you will shift focus."

I don't know much about Maltese athletes--I did read about a falcon, once--but I'm sure they are perfectly capable of running a 2:11 marathon.  But convincing someone of that, when they have no frame of reference for it, is another thing.

It's often said that nothing operates in a vacuum.  Well, no one succeeds in a vacuum, either.  The environment in which we live affects us.  If I were a Maltese coach, I'd do my best to get a couple athletes who have already run 2:11 to come train there.  The quickest way to get someone to change their frame of reference is to show them day in and day out how it's done.

The best analogy

Isn't it amazing how useful the marathon is as an analogy? 

I can't count the number of times someone has described their season, their career, parenthood, childhood, education, or in my case, their project at work as a "marathon."  Then I read about Alberto Salazar discussing Kara Goucher's moving up to the marathon.  I couldn't help thinking to myself: you know, training is like a marathon...

"Kara, no matter what happens mentally, she just accepts it and says, okay, what's next. [sic] I think for a marathoner, that's what you need to do…. That ability to focus, even if it's just in a shorter workout, helps you in the marathon. You've got to keep your eye on the goal, and it's very easy to lose focus in a race that's long. Mentally, Kara has the best focus of anyone I've ever worked with."

Kara is looking four years ahead already.  Long-term, she knows where she's headed, what she wants.  Yet she is able to block it out and focus on executing her workouts as required.  Not just today, or once a week, but everyday.

Success and 'that mental edge'

There was an interview at TrackShark with Illinois runner Angela Bizzarri, runner-up in last year's NCAA 5k (15:46!).  She addressed the topic of success breeding pressure vs success breeding confidence:

Does your past success put pressure on you to perform or does it fuel your confidence for upcoming races?

AB: It definitely helps build my confidence.  You can get in really good shape and have great workouts but a lot more of it is mental.  You have to know you can hang with that top pack.  Seeing that you can gives you that mental edge that you can do it again.

The hardest dip to get through as an elite runner (or a pre-elite runner, I should say) is having that confidence that you can, in fact, hang with your competition.  I imagine it's the same for a fresh lawyer entering the court before his first high profile case, or a doctor performing some complicated new surgery before the eyes of his fellow surgeons.  Doing it the first time is terribly difficult, but after that, it gets easier and easier.

There are ways to gain that confidence that don't involve having that experience, though.  The first is to work with people who've done it.  That demystifies it and demythifies it.  This is why people who apprentice under an artist or who join a team with a senior champion on it tend to excel.  The illusion that success comes from talent is shattered when the work ethic of the expert is laid bare.

Another way to gain in confidence is to frame the challenge in the terms of your previous success.  For example, I'm studying Italian right now.  I don't know any Italian, but I do know Japanese.  The simple fact that I made it through the dip in Japanese gives me the confidence to know I can do the same with Italian.  Finishing third in my league in cross country gave me the same kind of confidence when I started running track that next spring.  Sure, they're different.  But it was the similarities that mattered.

The last way you can improve your confidence is to simply take a risk and have it pay off.  This can be tough, though.  Taking a risk in running generally means executing a strategy that will put you through increased pain with increased probability that you will not succeed.  And if you are mentally ready for that potential failure, it can be much worse than simply playing it safe.  But when you do succeed, it can completely change your perspective on what you can do. 

Or maybe you just need to prepare differently

Asafa Powell said something I found interesting today in his pre-race interview at the Memorial Van Damme meet in Brussels, Belgium.

“I don’t know how to explain (his form in Beijing), maybe I’m just a guy for the circuit. I just don’t know how to explain it,” said Powell.

“At the Olympics, I went back into the relay and ran really well, I said to myself ‘why didn’t I feel like that in the final (of the individual 100m)’. Perhaps it’s running the rounds (at a championships) where as on the circuit you are just running once on the track. That’s all I could come up with.” (emphasis mine)

Asafa Powell has been pegged as an underachiever, given that he has run such amazingly fast times yet never won a major championship.  To be fair, he wasn't going to beat Usain Bolt in Beijing.  But he arguably should have been second instead of fifth.  And that's the crux of the argument against Powell.  It's not just that he's never won.  It's that relative to his abilities, he under-performs in championship situations.

Personally, I think the above is a telling quote.  Long-time readers of Optimal Training will know how often I talk about how high achievers and low achievers attribute their successes and failures.  At the risk of oversimplifying, high achievers attribute success to hard work and painstaking preparation.  They attribute failure to being lazy or underestimating the difficulty of the challenge.  In sum, they focus on qualities that they have some measure of control over.

Low achievers, on the other hand, tend to attribute success to luck or the relative ease of the challenge.  Yet they attribute failures to their lack of talent.  Essentially, they take no credit for their successes and blame that which is internal and unchangeable for failure.

Now take a look at that quote and tell me which group you'd put Asafa Powell into, if you only had that quote to go by.  (This is why I love reading athlete interviews...it's the only chance you get to see how they think!)  With only that quote, you'd have to put him into the "low achiever" group, wouldn't you?  He's essentially saying he doesn't have the "innate talent" for championship racing.

I'm not saying Asafa Powell is a failure or a low achiever.  He's obviously not.  He obviously believes in hard work, or he'd never have become this fast.  But equally obvious to me is that psychologically, Asafa Powell's mindset is not 100% aligned with high achievement.  He gives himself an out by blaming things outside his control when he fails.  If he really believes this (and I expect he does), then how hard will he work to change it?  (Answer: he won't, it's unchangeable!)

I don't expect Asafa Powell to win any major championships until he addresses this issue.  His problems have nothing to do with talent or being "just a guy for the circuit."  That's ridiculous.  The simple fact about his championship record is that he hasn't won because he hasn't prepared appropriately.  He may or may not have done the physical work, but he obviously hasn't done the mental work necessary to succeed. 

It's not too late--it's never too late--but it's ultimately up to him.  Is he ready to do the hard work to change his mindset?

Update: I meant to tip Jimmie at 400 Meter Oval for finding this story.  He is aggregating all the news--literally, all of it--about running over at his site.  If you're looking for a good running article, 400 Meter Oval is a great place to start.

Best Olympic Distance Performers Ever...post-Beijing

Beijing is done and the results are in.  There were some surprises, some legendary performances, and some breakthroughs.  And of course, some disappointments.  As a result, there was some need to revamp my lens on The Best Olympic Distance Performers Ever. 

For those of you who'd never visited, the site ranks the best Olympic distance performers of all-time, based solely on their Olympic performances.  So for example, Haile Gebrselassie's 25 world record performances give him no bonus points.  He didn't run them on the Olympic oval. 

I've decided to focus on the top 25 performers of all-time, male or female.  But I've only identified the top 24!  There are simply too many candidates for that last spot, and I need some help deciding who it should be.  Should it be...

• Carlos Lopes, who won marathon gold in '84 and 10k silver in '76?
• Dieter Baumann, who won 5k gold in '92 and silver in '88?
• Douglas Lowe or Alberto Juantorena, who each won repeat 800m golds in '24/'28 and '76/'80, respectively?
• Svetlana Masterkova or Kelly Holmes, who each won the 800m/1500m double in '96 and '04, respectively?
• Or maybe Horace Ashenfelter, who won 1952 steeplechase gold in world record time?

It's hard to say, of course, until you've seen who's in the top 24.  But there are still more athletes who may be worthy, including some from Beijing, and I've included them all in a poll.  When we reach 50 votes, I'll put the leading vote-getter in the list!

Other changes to the lens were made as a result of what we learned in Beijing, including:

• Kenenisa Bekele is truly the best distance runner ever.  But is he the best Olympic distance performer ever?  No, but he's top-10 now. 
• Tirunesh Dibaba is probably now the best woman runner ever as well, albeit not the most entertaining!  She has now leaped into the top 20, joining countrywoman Derartu Tulu as the only women on the list.
• Haile Gebrselassie just competed in his 4th 10,000 meter final.  He's finished 1st, 1st, 5th, 6th.  Truly amazing, but his recent 6th was not enough to move him much up the rankings.
• Abubaker Kaki Khamis and Pamela Jelimo both looked poised to dominate their way into contention in Beijing, but after Kaki faltered in the semis, only Pamela Jelimo delivered. 
• Steeplers Brimin Kipruto and Gulnara Samitova-Galkina both made incredible arguments for inclusion, but does the steeple really count for as much as the other events?
• Bernard Lagat came in with a solid Olympic resume and hopes of winning the distance double, but struggled in his races and it looks unlikely that he will have another shot at making the list.
• Catherine Ndereba missed her chance at making the list as well, except she did it by failing to pay attention during her race! Sammy Wanjiru, on the other hand, did as much as possible in his first shot.  Another Olympic race like that one and he'll be on the list for sure.
• And what do we do with perennial silver medalists like Ndereba, Elvan Abeylegesse and Sileshi Sihine?  Are they destined, like Paul Tergat, to live in the void, receiving votes of support from fans but no love from the rankings themselves?  Actually, yes.

I hope you'll stop by and vote in the polls.  And don't forget to bookmark the page and tell a friend.  London's right around the corner, you know!

(More great lenses can be found to your left, too, or by clicking here.)

Successful vs entertaining

Tirunesh Dibaba won the distance double in Beijing, dominating two distinctly different types of races.  In the 10k, she ran an Olympic Record and one of the fastest times ever.  Elvan Abeylegesse took the lead and pushed the pace, with Dibaba trailing the entire way.  Then in the final 400m Dibaba turned it on as only she can, sprinting away to Olympic gold.

In the 5k, nobody was willing to run that race against Dibaba.  So everyone sat back and waited, hoping they'd be able to take her in a sprint (or at least beat enough people to get a medal).  The race was appallingly slow, and Dibaba sprinted away from everyone to take the gold.  Abeylegesse proved she is the second best long distance runner in the world right now, as she hung on for silver, her second of Beijing.

Pat Butcher, a journalist who covers running, wasn't satisfied though.  In this scathing article he rebukes Dibaba's races and questions her courage, initiative, and self-respect.  Why?  Because she didn't lead her races until the end.  Because she knew she could win with her kick, and did so.  In short, because she was predictable and boring. 

As I read it, I get the impression Mr. Butcher's been following running a long time, is a bit bored and jaded with African runners' domination the past couple decades, and has decided he can only accept excellence if it is entertaining.  It's not enough for athletes to break Olympic records or win gold, Mr. Butcher wants to see them do it in epic fashion.

And who knows.  Maybe he's right.  Maybe "The Baby-faced Destroyer" is the most boring runner ever.  (In my book, having that nickname automatically excludes her from the discussion, but still...)  It brings up an interesting question: Would it benefit Tirunesh Dibaba to run differently?

Competitively, it's hard to argue that it would.  The goal is, after all, to win championship races and achieve to the level of your potential.  It may be great entertainment when someone does both at the same time (see also: Usain Bolt), but few athletes ever demand both in a setting like the Olympics.  Dibaba was no different; she focused on winning the races.  She's already proven that she can run fast times.  Now she's proven she can win championship races.  Most people would argue she's done it all.  Except, Mr. Butcher, I imagine, because she hasn't done both while entertaining him.  So if she cares to know whether she can do that AND win, too, then I suppose there is some benefit to changing her approach.

Monetary benefits, however, are another story.  Might it not make her more appealing to sponsors if she ran like Steve Prefontaine, leading from the gun and dissing her opponents guts (all with a bushy mustache, of course)?  Doing so might set her up to lose races to rivals like Meseret Defar, but if she could pull it off, wouldn't there be a windfall waiting for her?  I actually don't think so.  It might be appealing to us as fans to see her run this way, but are we going to pay her to do it?  I wouldn't, though I can't speak for Mr. Butcher.

I'm a big believer in running risky races.  I think you need to push yourself and take chances and not be afraid to fail.  But there's a difference between being successful and being entertaining.  The more risk, the more entertaining, of course.  But when your risk decreases your chances of achieving your goal, you have to consider the benefits. 

My guess is Dibaba did.  And having Pat Butcher as a fan simply didn't hold as much value to her as the opportunity to win two gold medals.  One wonders how she ever came to that conclusion.

5 points about Usain Bolt

It's funny just how amazingly popular a news story can get, and then how quickly it can diminish to nothing but a few random posts in the blogosphere.  I have a feeling Usain Bolt will remain this kind of topic for a while longer, maybe until the end of the European track season, and then suddenly we won't be talking about him much anymore.  I'm not sure what will take his place, but I'm sure something will.  Something always does.

The flood of Usain Bolt stories has brought a few things to my attention, though, that I thought were worth sharing. 

1. The Michael Phelps vs Usain Bolt debate is still raging.  I've had a bunch of people stop by the debate lens I created, and the range of views is pretty interesting.  If you haven't stopped by, I think you should.  Just don't tell me they perform in different sports so they can't be compared.  I don't buy that.  (Next thing you'll tell me Babe Ruth wasn't as good an athlete as Secretariat.  I mean, come on.)
2. In one measure, Bolt has unequivocally surpassed Michael Phelps: online video viewings.  Based on some data collected by this site, Michael Phelps had many more views than Usain Bolt before the Olympics, but by the end, Bolt had blown him away by about 2,000,000 views.  Chalk another point up to Bolt.
3. Usain Bolt's world records in the 200m and 100m are the second and third most impressive all-time, respectively.  At least, that's how I interpret the data on this website.  Scroll down to the very last table, and you see his 200m gets an IAAF score of 1338 points, and the 100m a score of 1332.  I don't know how the scoring system works, but the most impressive record is apparently owned by Jan Zelezny, a javelin thrower, with 1346 points.  (Sidenote: I personally think that if they took weather conditions into account, Wanjiru's performance might have been equal to either of Bolt's.)
4. Usain Bolt is apparently a poor sport for the way he danced and enjoyed his world record victories.  Or so said Jacques Rogge, the head of the IOC.  I think this is silly.  First, he in no way taunted his competitors.  Even the chest thump in the 100m was directed to the crowd at large.  Second, athletes in sports like basketball and football celebrate their achievements in similar fashion.  Third, in this day and age, athletes need to be entertainers.  And the more they are, the better it will be for the sport itself.  Finally, they were the 2nd and 3rd most impressive world records ever!  Cut the guy some slack!
5. There is a lot of discussion about the prospect that Bolt is on performance enhancing drugs.  Not so much in formal articles or posts, but in the comments to them.  For his part, he says he, "Came prepared and worked hard."  I actually don't think he is, in part because I'd simply rather not (naive perhaps, but true) and in part because he appears to have been incredibly good at an incredibly young age, assuming the data used by The Science of Sport is correct.  It looks like it's all finally come together for him.
6. Bonus: If Bolt sets a PR in the 100m...meaning a world record...he'll get one kilogram of gold ($93,000).  Honestly, I'm betting he's already getting close to that much as an appearance fee.

Let 'em fail...successfully

I played Little League baseball when I was a kid.  I remember very clearly one player in particular, Charlie Moreno, who was in our league.  We never played on the same team, which was terrible because he was the best pitcher in our age group year after year.  He didn't throw a good curveball or anything as I remember it; he just threw really hard. 

I played an entire year and never got a hit off of him.  Maybe even two.  I swung when it was a good pitch but mostly hoped he'd be wild and just walk me.  Then one year (I'm guessing I was 10), in our first game, my team faced Charlie's team.  He'd grown taller, and seemed to throw even harder.  I distinctly remember wishing they'd forced him to play in the next age group.

Then a funny thing happened.  In my first at-bat against him, I hit a grounder to second.  I got out, but I really stung the ball.  It was the first time I'd ever even hit the ball hard against him, and something changed within me.  Charlie's mystique diminished a little.  My next time up, I got a single.  And my third time up I hit a solid fly ball to left (which was caught).

I don't remember the rest of my at bats against Charlie that year.  I'm pretty sure he got me out more often than I got hits.  But that first game changed me as a batter.  I had hit the ball hard against Charlie Moreno!  If I could do that, I could hit the ball hard against anyone.  And I did.  For the first time, I finished the year with a good batting average and became a truly confident hitter.

I mention this because I read a disappointing article today about a 9-year old kid named Jericho Scott.  He's a very good pitcher for his age, with the ability to throw 40 mph.  He's so good, in fact, that the league told his coach he wasn't allowed to pitch anymore.  When his coach brought him to the mound in a recent game, the other team forfeited and left the field!  Now his team is being disbanded!  (!!!!!)

Essentially, the league has decided he's too good to play there.  The other kids can't hit off of him.  He throws so hard it's scary to other players (note: he's never beaned another batter).  And of course, because adults are involved, it appears there are some petty jealousies that may be playing a role.

Anyway, this made me think about how these parents, coaches, and league administrators think about success and failure.  And perhaps how we think of it, too.  The league is trying to set up an environment in which everybody succeeds.  And their assumption is that if Jericho always wins, then everyone else always loses.  It's all black and white.  Their only solution is, for the good of the rest of the kids, to ensure Jericho doesn't win.

There are obviously better approaches to solving this, like letting Jericho play against older competition.  But the point I want to make is, success and failure shouldn't be measured by outs and hits for these kids anyway.  It should be based on their execution, their approach.  So what if you got out, how did you approach the at bat?  Did you swing at good or bad pitches?  Did you foul a ball off?  Did you lay down the bunt? 

Kids should be focusing on subjective success when they are young.  They should be measured against their abilities and previous experiences.  If a good at bat is fouling off a pitch before striking out, then parents and coaches should be embracing that and celebrating when the kid makes contact.  And if the kids are focusing too much on normative success--striking out and getting hits--then they need to be reminded what their goals are when they are batting--good swings, staying patient--and encouraged to focus on them relentlessly.  Make it a game within the game if you have to.  And if they do get a hit, parents and coaches should treat it the same way.  As the outcome of good (or maybe even bad) execution.

The time to learn how to focus on execution instead of results is when you're a kid.  It's when you're playing things like Little League baseball.  I can't help but think what I'd have felt like if my coach had forfeited our baseball game because Charlie Moreno was pitching against us that day.  Not only would I have not been able to play baseball--my worst nightmare as a kid--but what would it have done to me to have all the coaches and parents agree that we had no chance--that we were simply not good enough? 

I sometimes wonder if I didn't need to have that at-bat against Charlie.  It certainly affected my confidence in baseball.  And as a kid, my confidence in many things was related to my ability on the sports fields.  I guess I'll never know.  But what I do know is that kids in Jericho's league aren't getting the opportunity to hit that crucial ground ball to second off of him.  And that's really a shame, if you ask me.

Men's Marathon Awards: Optimal Training Edition

I really enjoyed watching the men's marathon today.  It was like the "anti-women's 5k".  Right from the gun the pace was blistering, and it became apparent after a few miles that too many men were content with that for it to let up much.  So we got to see a real race.  A race where only the fittest, most prepared, and most composed athlete would win.  Aka: Sammy Wanjiru.

As I watched the race, I couldn't help but think of some awards I'd have liked to give.  (Update: here's a great review of the race, for those who missed it.)  The awards, in no particular order:

The Abebe Bikila Award for Best Marathon Performance Ever: This goes to Sammy Wanjiru, Olympic champion and new Olympic record holder.  For running the 29th fastest marathon ever.  For running 2:06:32 on a day when it was thought no one could run faster than 2:08.  For breaking the Olympic record by 3 minutes.  For making the marathon a war of attrition, and being the last man standing on the most important day.  Sammy Wanjiru, you ran the best marathon performance ever.  Like Bikila before him, you have redefined what is possible in the marathon.

The "One Less Random Stat for London 2012" Award: This goes to the country of Kenya, who now has an Olympic marathon champion from its country.  Unfortunately, Kenya's gain is our loss, as now we will have to come up with something interesting to discuss when we discuss the men's marathon in London.  Or we could just go with the "Can anyone beat the Africans?" topic.  Everyone seems to like that one, even though they rarely win the actual marathon races.

The Viewer's Choice Award(s): These go to all the guys who went out at world record pace even though they couldn't have held that pace on a perfect Berlin morning, let alone a hot, muggy morning in Beijing.  By accepting the torrid pace at the beginning, you helped to give us a race to remember.  Three cheers to all of you (or a nice ice bath, if you prefer).

The Asafa Powell Award: This goes to Martin Lel, for being discussed in the build-up to the marathon as one of the favorites, but fading to fifth as his remarkable young teammate stole the show with his record performance.  We hope it was nice holding the title of "best marathoner in the world" while it lasted, Martin.

The Evangeline Adams Award for Worst Use of Astrology Reference in Marathon Commentary: This goes to whoever was doing color commentary for the NBC broadcast of the marathon when they said after 20 minutes that, "This is a suicidal pace.  They can't maintain it.  The winner will be the person for whom the stars are aligned and they do not fall apart."  Um, sorry Mr. Color Commentator Guy, in the 21st century marathons are won by the most prepared, not the most astrologically aligned.

The "Ryan Hall Who?" Award: This goes to Dathan Ritzenhein, who started with a more aggressive pace than his more popular countryman and held on to finish before America's favorite and predicted medal winner Ryan Hall. While Ryan opted to go with a "catch-up later strategy" (he didn't really think he'd be able to catch up to all of them, did he?), you opted to stay in the closer group, and it paid off as you were the first American to cross the line.

The "Dathan Ritzenhein Who?" Award:  This goes to the American public, who in their desire to jump all over the Ryan Hall bandwagon forgot that there was another supremely talented young athlete competing for the red, white and blue.  In fact, he is an athlete who has consistently beaten Hall throughout their careers.  What's that, you stopped listening after "Ryan Hall"?  Ah yes, this award is most definitely for you, America.

The "Brian Sell Who?" Award:  This goes to the cameramen.  I have it on good authority that the Japanese audience was able to follow the progress of all their athletes in the men's marathon today, despite one of them running a ridiculous 2:41.  But did the American audience get even a glimpse of Brian Sell?  Well, not this American audience. (And if you showed Brian while I was taking a post-run shower, then I apologize and kindly return the award at your earliest convenience.)

The Invisible Man Award: This goes to Viktor Rothlin of Switzerland, who managed to finish 6th in 2:10:35 and yet not be shown once on the American broadcast.  Who are you and what do you look like?  We still don't know.  And we salute you for it.

The Sportsmanship Award: This goes to Sammy Wanjiru and Deriba Merga, who shared a water bottle at the 20 mile mark of the race.  It's quite normal to see two Kenyan teammates share a water bottle.  Same for two Ethiopian teammates.  But when two runners from rival countries like Kenya and Ethiopia can share a water bottle in the middle of the race, well, it earns them the Sportsmanship Award.

The "Why'd they have to tack on that extra quarter mile?" Award: This goes to Deriba Merga, who would have won bronze had the marathon only gone 26 miles.  Instead, his teammate Tsegay Kebede passed him on the track as his legs simply ceased working.  There's no shame in finishing fourth, Deriba.  You took a swing at the gold.  Would that all of the athletes have run as aggressively as you.

The "I guess you still won" Award: This goes to Ryan Hall, whose only goal was to "run to give glory to God".  Since he wasn't measuring himself in terms of medaling, and since you just know he was praying hard for that race to end, I'm pretty sure this race is going to go down as a victory for team Hall.  And when looked at from this perspective, not going with the leaders when it was the only shot at medaling wasn't such a bad idea after all!

The "Silver Medal" Award: This goes to Jaouad Gharib of Morocco, for finishing in second place.  In case you can't tell, you didn't do anything interesting enough for me to come up with a clever award for you.  But you did finish second and I thought I should mention your name.  So I'm just going to re-gift your silver medal to you...

I'd just like to say thank you to all the other men's marathon participants.  We apologize that his is not AYSO soccer, so there will not be an award for everyone.  But we do have snacks.  Orange slices and Capri-Suns.  Yum.

Michael Phelps vs Usain Bolt: who was King of Beijing?

The first week of the Olympics was the Michael Phelps story.  Not just in the US, but in Japan as well.  They covered every second he was in the pool.  To put this in perspective, this is the same country that didn't even show the 1500m final in track because there weren't any Japanese athletes in it.  For Phelps to transcend the natural disinterest in foreign athletes is impressive.  And he did it the world over.

He competed in 8 events: 5 individual races and 3 relays.  He won 8 golds.  He set 7 world records and 1 Olympic record.  And some were done in epic, unforgettable style.  He became the winningest athlete in Olympic history.  He was the defining athlete of the Games, not just for Americans, but for pretty much everyone.

But then week two started, and Usain Bolt broke the 100m world record with ease.  And then he danced, and everybody gasped.  He immediately transcended the Japanese media barrier and became the de facto man of the hour.  And then he broke the 200m world record, once thought to be virtually untouchable, and every person in Japan actually knew his name.  And he danced some more.  And when his Jamaican team broke the 16 year-old 4 x 100m relay record, it was over: he was an honorary Japanese. 

3 races.  3 golds.  3 world records.  Suddenly, Phelps' 15 minutes of fame were up and it was Bolt's turn to shine.  And just as suddenly, people started to ask, "Was Bolt's the most amazing performance of Beijing?"  (Gasp.)  Better than Phelps?  Could it be possible? 

(Note: this question isn't asked as much in the US, because we're too busy convincing ourselves that the sky is falling in US track...but blogsearch it and you'll see...)

So with the debate raging, I decided to make a Squidoo lens about the topic.  It has information about each athlete's amazing Olympic performances, and a spot for you to voice your opinion.

King of Beijing: Michael Phelps or Usain Bolt?

Seriously, who was the King of Beijing: Phelps or Bolt?  And why do you lean one way or the other?  Feel free to comment here, but I'd appreciate it if you commented on the lens as well.   Let's make this the de facto site for this debate!

(You can see more of my lenses in the sidebar to the left, or click here.)