"If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it, too?" It's the type of question parents ask in an effort to get children to think for themselves. Of course, the answer is "no." But what if you're on a team, when everyone expects you - and everyone else - to jump off a cliff together?
At this time of year, with gridiron images dominating the airwaves, most people associate teams with football. But running can also be a team sport.
A few weeks ago, Holly did the Hood to Coast Relay, a 196-mile race from timberline on Oregon's Mt. Hood to the sea. A thousand teams of 12 compete, with each runner doing three legs, totaling about 16 miles each.
It's the Boston Marathon of long-distance relay races.
Holly had done it before, but this year was different. Her team had every intention of winning its division.
In the weeks before the race, her spot on the team had been iffy. For months, she'd been plagued by pains in her right leg, forcing her to cut her training to almost nothing. Every time she'd start to come back, something new would hurt.
Then, a sports-medicine doctor traced it to an ankle she'd sprained as a teenager, and showed us how to tape it. Suddenly, she could run pain free. But she was still woefully shy on training, with 11 other people relying on her.
But it's rarely the problem you worry about that rears up and bites you during the race. Her leg was fine. Instead, she got the stomach flu. Or maybe it was food poisoning. It felt like both, plus giardia, rolled into one.
Still, 11 other people were relying on her. She ran her first leg, 7 miles, faster than she'd ever run that far in her life. No training? What's that? Then she kept running, straight to the nearest toilet.
On her own, she might have dropped out. But 11 other people were counting on her. "You'll do it," a teammate said, and she knew she wasn't going to give it anything but her best.
For the next two legs, she continued to run faster than her projected pace - something few if any other members of the team achieved. Between legs, she continued running for every available toilet.
Was this determination to do whatever it took, no matter what, a good thing? She'd had a tough summer and needed a triumph. Despite the stomach-whatever-it-was, this was definitely a fist-pumping declaration of, "Yes, I'm back!" But there's something that happens in the collective consciousness of a team, something that can force you to an edge where you might just do yourself long-run damage. If your friends are relying on you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?
All of this runs slightly contrary to the prevailing wisdom. How many times has it been said that team spirit is the best there is? That the camaraderie between teammates is more motivating than lone glory? Maybe, but there can also be a lot more pressure, even when it's only self-imposed.
Holly's team, by the way, finished second. The post-race party at the coast was subdued, nearly depressed.
But the team that won had recruited people from all over the country, solely for the purpose of beating hers. If you're beaten that way, it's not exactly something to hang your head over.
Holly's second-place medal is one of her prouder possessions. Standing with teammates at the award ceremony to collect it, she thought: this is the good stuff. But the bad stuff scares her. If your teammates are relying on you to jump off a cliff . . . ?
