Knowing the route: Distance runners’ mundane knowledge

Dr John Hockey
School of Education,
University of Gloucestershire
Francis Close Hall Campus,
Cheltenham, GL50 4AZ
UK

01242-532762

jhockey@glos.ac.uk

Key Words: Distance, running, mundane, knowledge, route.

Abstract

The focus of this paper is on one particular kind of mundane knowledge acquired by runners as they habitually train for middle and long distance running. This knowledge allows them to avoid injury and gain fitness so as to race effectively, and is intimately linked to particular routine training routes. The paper outlines athletic training routines, and then situates them theoretically as practices occurring in particular kinds of space. A specific route knowledge which is produced by such practices, is then portrayed using autoethnographic data produced by two distance runners. This knowledge is then depicted as essentially embodied and crucial for the successful accomplishment of distance running. The paper concludes with a call for more analysis of mundane knowledge in sport.

1. Introduction

1.1 This paper focuses on a specific dimension of distance running, illustrating a particular kind of mundane knowledge which runners accrue and use when they run. As Breckhus (1998) has noted the "unmarked generally remains unnamed and unaccented even in social research" (p.36), thus this paper attempts to address the nature of a particular taken for granted and routinely "unnoticed’" knowledge. Distance running in particular involves individuals in daily training runs through urban and/or rural areas as they seek to develop and maintain the levels of (primarily) aerobic fitness necessary to run middle and long distances, and to race effectively. In effect, the vast majority of running undertaken is during training runs, which far outweighs involvement in racing. What follows is the portrayal of a particular kind of knowledge, which is used by two individuals to accomplish routine distance running training. The paper is based on data generated from an autoethnographic project.

2. Autoethnography and sport

2.1 Autoethnography has been defined as an autobiographical genre of writing and research (Ellis & Bochner, 2000), which examines the dialectics of subjectivity and culture. Autoethnography in general entails the detailed analysis of oneself qua member of a social group or category, for example as a distance runner (Denison, 2002; Allen Collinson & Hockey, 2001) or an Olympic rower (Tsang, 2000). It is usually distinguished from autobiography by its particular forms of analysis and its emphasis on experiences within the writer’s life which aim to illuminate wider cultural or subcultural aspects. Thus the central concerns of this paper are upon the self (auto) and culture (ethnos) rather than upon the research process (graphy) itself (Ellis & Bochner, 2000). The distinctiveness of autoethnography as an investigative process lies in its efforts to combine detailed fieldnotes, analysing the research ‘field’ (for example, a rugby match), with ‘headnotes’ (Sanjek, 1990), the researcher’s actual experience of engaging with the phenomenon at hand (for example, playing rugby). The self and the ethnographic field are then symbiotic, and in effect this combination forms the pivot of analysis (Coffey, 1999). Some ethnographic researchers in sport have seized upon this challenging development and begun to utlise their own embodied sporting experiences to produce a range of detailed autoethnographies or ‘narratives of the self’ (Sparkes, 2000) relating to various sporting and physical activities, and also to health problems such as sports injuries (cf. Allen Collinson, 2003; Duncan, 2000; Fernandez Balboa, 1998; Kaskisaari, 1994; Messner & Sabo, 1994; Rinehart, 1995; Silvennoinen, 1999; Sparkes, 1996, 2003; Tiihonen, 1994; Tinning, 1998).

2.2 In general, autoethnogaphers have tended to concentrate upon the phenomenological and interactional dimensions of sporting experience. On one level, they have sought to reveal their own place in the interactional milieux of sporting settings, as researchers and participants, where the researcher also becomes the subject of research. This blurring of the boundaries between the social and the personal, between self and other, is illustrated for example in Rinehart’s (1998) analysis of swimming lessons. They have also been concerned to reveal not just the interactional elements of the sporting self, but also the emotional dimension. Of particular interest has been a focus on feelings as an embodied form of consciousness (Denzin, 1984) when participating in sport or indeed when deprived of that participation (Sparkes, 2002), and a concern to portray self-consciousness; to "open up the realm of the interior and the personal" (Fiske, 1990,p. 90). The intent here is to invite the reader to visualise, and feel, vicariously, the sporting experience (Denison, 2002), communicating vividly the physical and psychological pain of sports injury for example (Sparkes, 2003; Allen-Collinson, 2003). Autoethnographers also seek to communicate not only the immediacy, the physicality and emotionality of the sporting experience, but also its psychological and social elements, the internal dialogue of the writer with her/himself, and also on occasion to situate the experience within its wider structural context (Tsang, 2000). The development of autoethnography whilst not uncontentious (Coffey, 1999), has produced a series of accounts of sport which further our understanding of its experiential nature. As Bain (1995) has remarked, the ‘sporting mind’ in particular has largely been accessed imperfectly by researchers, and furthermore as Crossley (1995) notes, mind is intimately linked to the body. Autoethography is then a research approach which offers fertile possibilities for the analysis of this symbiotic relationship within sport. The opportunity to use autoethnography came about as a result of one of those unhappy "accidents of current biography" (Lofland & Lofland, 1995, p.11) that provided psychological and physical access to the research setting, and which will be depicted in the next paragraph. For the author and his co-researcher who wished to portray the relationship between the distance running ‘mind’ (emotions, sensations, knowledge) and its embodied activity, it constituted the best means of accessing and depicting that relationship.

3. Biography, data and analysis

3.1 In order to contextualise the events to be described, it is first of all necessary to make visible some ‘accountable’ knowledge in terms of athletic biographies (Stanley, 1990). My female training partner/co-researcher and I (author) run together habitually, both having a background of distance running which ranges over 5-mile races to marathons. This has required a commitment to training 6 or 7 days a week, on occasion twice a day, for 18 years and 37 years respectively. Moreover, we have been training together for the past 17 years. We are by now "veteran" runners, the author being 58 and his training partner 44 years old. Our involvement in distance running mirrors Stebbins’ (1982) concept of ‘serious leisure’, which involves considerable personal effort, knowledge and training, but also produces benefits in terms of physiology and social-psychology, as we identify with being "distance runners", and interact with others who display a similar level of commitment to the activity (Prus, 1996; Robbins & Joseph, 1980).

3.2 During the same wind-swept week in 1997 we both suffered knee injuries, occasioned by having to train in the winter dark. It was apparent at the onset of these injuries that they did not constitute the usual small niggles which plague the habitual runner. Consequently, we rapidly arrived at a collective decision systematically to document our response to these injuries, our principal motive being to achieve something positive out of a negative experience. The process of injury and recovery and its documentation took a full two years (Allen Collinson, 2003; Allen Collinson & Hockey, 2001).

3.3 The decision to document the process presented no particular difficulty in terms of actual documentation, for the keeping of training logs is a common practice amongst athletes. Usually these logs record the kind of training taking place at any particular juncture, and include details of timings, distances, terrain type, weather conditions, and brief notes on the subjective experience. So the discipline of recording daily training was already in situ, but in place of training logs we constructed analytical logs.

3.4 We each constructed a personal log, and a third collective log synthesised the salient common themes which were emerging, together with any differences in our individual adaptation to what was happening. The recording of our experiences was done via micro-tape recorders. We each transcribed these recordings as soon as practicable (usually in lunch hours and at weekends), and then constructed the logs detailed above. Creating our joint log, within which analytical themes and concepts were generated, was effected via a form of the constant comparative method (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). For example, if one of us had documented a particular theme, we would search the other’s log for a similar theme. We would then interrogate each other as to the precise composition of that theme, its boundaries and its connections to other themes already generated. Thematic or conceptual differences between our accounts were identified and, wherever possible, reconciled, in terms of definition. Where no analytical reconciliation proved achievable, we accepted the difference and recorded it as an atypical case. Subsequently, we explored the reasons for the difference and the impact, if any, upon our interaction. Individually we have acted as (and continue to do so) the ‘primary recipient’ (Ochs & Capps, 1996) of the other’s data, providing regular feedback and critique. What follows is based upon data collected via the above method.

3.5 A by-product of our data analysis was that we became aware of a "stock of knowledge" (Benson & Hughes, 1983, p.52), which we had previously taken for granted when running. This awareness came to the fore when daily walking our routine running routes, when unable to run, as a rehabilitative activity. During these periods we became aware we were "talking the routes", that is imparting information we both shared, but which we would only rarely communicate to each other when actually running, yet we both used this information to accomplish running our training routes. The documentation of this stock of knowledge was then added to our main analytical task, that of recording our response to being injured.

4. Training: Practice and theory

4.1 So as to be able to contextualise the data, some understanding of the main practical concerns of distance-running training need to be depicted, and also situated within a body of theory; these two concerns will now be addressed. It should be noted that the theory used is not theory which attempts to explain the physiological features of training, but rather theory which is used to understand its social dimension.

4.2 The chief practical concern is the goal of training itself, that is, to increase aerobic and anaerobic fitness levels. Runners do this via individual training programmes devised by themselves or in conjunction with coaches. This usually involves two principal kinds of activity: firstly running a set amount of daily/weekly mileage, anywhere from 5 – 15 miles a day or more (or time, e.g., 1 hour, 2 hours etc), at particular kinds of pace (e.g., seven minutes a mile, six minutes a miles, five minutes etc). This kind of training produces aerobic conditioning, or in popular terms – endurance. The second form of training is the running of particular kinds of repeat ‘efforts’, which, relative to endurance work are small but much more intense, sharper in terms of effort. So individuals might run these on synthetic tracks (e.g., 8x400metres), roads (between lamp posts or telegraph poles), up hills, or on football fields, for example. This kind of short, sharp, repeat training complements the endurance training by building anaerobic capacity. Runners generally term this activity ‘speed work’. The capacity to run at sustained pace and duration and also to run at faster intervals, helps produce effective distance racing performances. To carry out these activities runners are attentative to routes which allow them to maximize their training. They then accumulate knowledge of, and follow particular routes, whilst pursuing the latter objective. So for example, a stretch of flat road may be prized for doing 100-400 metre efforts. It will also be prized if its surface is smooth, allowing fast cadence to flow. There is then a concern with the nature of the terrain one is training on, and what it will, or will not facilitate in terms of training performance. The term ‘going’ is often used by runners to describe the terrain’s capability, so, for example ‘good going’ or ‘lousy going’ for particular stretches of terrain.

4.3 Another practical concern of runners in relation to training is safety. Smith (1997) has perceptively identified the strategies runners use to deal with harassment and on rare occasions assault whilst training in public places. Runners thus become attentive to particular locations (e.g., bars, pubs etc) on their routes where the risk of potential verbal/physical attack arises. This paper will depict some of these kinds of concern, and it will also depict a more encompassing, and prevalent threat to safety. This emanates from a combination of the physical features of the terrain, and other human traffic, such as vehicle drivers, and bicyclists, and also dogs, all of whom use the routes alongside runners. From the runner’s perspective, this combination routinely harbours features which can cause athletic injury, and resultant cessation of training and racing (cf. Guardian, 2003).

4.4 It is no exaggeration to say that within distance running circles, narratives of injury (along with narratives of performance) predominate amongst both amateur and professional competitors, and the spectre of injury is part of commonplace discourse and concern. Hence the routine focus of attention on injury avoidance when training. Runners accumulate information which identifies points on the terrain where hazard occurs, or is likely to, along with the nature of the hazard (e.g., a busy traffic intersection one mile into the training run). Moreover, how individuals interpret that information will be connected to, and heavily influenced by their particular running pasts; injury being common place amongst distance runners. Most experienced athletes have a biography littered with injuries. Runners thus accumulate knowledge of how their own bodies react to training on particular kinds of terrain, and so try to avoid training on terrain which might encourage injury. As Crossley (1995) has noted, the mind is inseparable from the body; they remain "reversible aspects of a single fabric" (p. 47). So, for example, runners who have suffered from achilles tendon injuries know how such injuries feel physically, and also the surfaces to be avoided once they have suffered that kind of injury (e.g. soft sand).

4.5 This combination of information about the ‘going’ of the terrain and about safety constitutes ‘local knowledge’ about a particular route. The particularities of route knowledge will change according to time, so for example the nature of parkland changes according to what is inflicted upon it by seasonal weather, which will have import for both ‘going’ and safety. In a similar fashion, roads which are categorized as good for ‘going’ and safety in the day, may not be so at night, due to poor lighting and thus avoided as darkness descends.

4.6 Theoretically it is possible to categorize these routes as a particular kind of ‘social space’ (Lefebvre, 1991). It is via the embodied activity of training that this particular kind of space is produced or created (Lefebvre, 1991; Stewart, 1995). In Lefebvre’s (1991) terms, we actually engage with our running in a social space, which can be fruitfully examined in a number of distinct analytical ways. The first kind of engagement is that of ‘spatial practice’ which involves the actual physical running through streets and parks which simultaneously creates the particular social space(s) known to us as training routes. The second kind of engagement involves what Lefebvre calls representations of space, which are conceived spaces. Thus, our routes are also imaginatively constructed via our thoughts, ideas, narratives and memories, as particular kinds of spaces. The combination of these two forms of engagement produce what Lefebvere calls spaces of representation or lived space. This lived space then produces specific forms of knowing which are the outcome of spatial practices. These are socially specific in terms of being linked to particular geographical features but also have their own history (Stewart, 1995). In reality these different kinds of space are inextricably linked (Lefebvre, 1991; Van Ingen 2003), and produce social space.

4.7 Having examined the mundane practices and concerns of doing training runs, and situated those practices theoretically, the data will now be presented. What follows is an account of the knowledge used by the author and his training partner to negotiate part of one route which is used routinely by them. In effect it is an exemplar, as it contains many of the particular categories of knowledge utilised not only on this particular route, but also on other running routes. The following narrative has been constructed from our collective field notes, in a manner intended to invoke in the reader a sense of both the knowledge used and the embodied feelings experienced as this particular run is accomplished. It is written as if one of us is running the route, whereas in reality the data on which it is based are a shared resource both experientially and as a sociological record. So the ‘I’ in the narrative and the narrative itself is a composite of both our collective knowledge of a particular training route, and of our documentation of it. As Denison and Rinehart (2000) have recently advocated, there is a need to develop innovative and more evocative ways of writing sociological accounts which depict sporting experience. The use of the present tense, and first person is designed (hopefully) to convey an "immediacy", together with the personal nature of the account (Sparkes, 2000). In response to this kind of call, I have attempted to make the narrative which follows as evocative as possible.

5. Route knowledge

5.1 All day sitting at the computer is no good for distance runners’ legs, as creaky as my front gate. Hauling on the training gear at 1730 hours, time to move at last as I look down the street. On to the road, avoiding the pavements containing flagstones at different levels which can cause one’s plantar fascia to become sore; avoiding the pavements, as on to them, all too often missiles in the form of psychotic pets, and deranged children shoot from their houses on collision course. Keeping the stride short until the legs warm, feeling the first slap of training shoes on the road, choosing a line down the working-class street between the badly- patched stretches of ill maintained tarmac which create ridges, and bruise the toes.

5.2 Around the corner on a narrow curved pavement with its slope of 45 degrees right down to left, listening for the traffic coming from behind, careful now, those cold, old achilles tendons hate the angle, but it’s either that or a potential visit to the A & E department of the local hospital! Still keeping the stride short to the main road, and picking my way around the dog-shit stretch. Strange why dog owners always seem to get their pets to do it in certain areas, and who wants toxic rubbish on your shoes, and on your hands and a month off training with some bug! Past the big lilac tree which when flowering causes me to hold my breath for some yards, to prevent my hay fever going crazy, running being hard enough without that kind of aggravation. Down the pavement with its uneven lumps caused by the huge roots of trees forcing up the pavement slabs, pointing my toes to place my feet on the small flattest spots. I hit a large circle of grass between roads, feeling with the feet the difference as the concrete- induced jarring subsides. I know the grass is smooth here, and there is enough reflection from street-lights so that I can traverse it safely even in the winter nights if I weave artfully between the shadows.

5.3 On to the opposite pavement, slowing the stride to almost a jog, feeling the hamstrings shorten up and the breathing subside. This I know is a ‘blind’ corner and given the propensity for at least half of the town’s cyclists to use the pavement as an unauthorized track, and the big trees to cloak the available lighting, it is a place to be careful. Over the years I have had some cuts, bruises, and the odd heated altercation with the inconsiderate at this juncture. Reaching a major junction with various traffic islands, attention becomes very focused, and speed reduced even more.

5.4 At last on to the approaches to the park and the body begins to ease, the stride begins to lengthen, picking it up, picking it up, as the flow of movement begins to build on a nice flat piece of pavement, no flagstones, much smoother. But watching the small alley on the right out of which rabid motorists occasionally shoot. Hit the eroded approach path to the park, it’s ok this weather, but in the very wet months it has a propensity to get slushy and is difficult footing, causing one to slide suddenly, much to the pained consternation of inner thigh adductors. So I normally avoid that area in the winter and take the road, unless wearing cross-country studs.

5.5 A flat smooth stretch of park appears to beckon, or at least it was smooth and for a number of years we did real speedwork on it, lots of repetitions. Unfortunately, a series of fairs and unofficial football games have now produced lots of concealed ruts and divots. I can lengthen my stride here but real fast work is not to be recommended, hit one of those divots at speed and an injury is on the cards. The natural history of some parkland then, once seen in one way and now another.

5.6 Crossing a little junction I smile, the next strip of flat terrain is great, even in a hot summer the grass has some resilience, keeping its smoothness and there are no hidden surprises, one can really do fast intervals here. I pick the cadence up, and summer shifts to winter and I can still do them thanks to the street lighting and it’s never too wet to get decent traction. Onto the toes, inclining the torso and head, the rasping of the breath as the effort hits the lungs, half a dozen striding repetitions up and down, feeling the chill dew seeping through my feet. Down the narrow underpass which connects the other half of the park, a tunnel for idiot mad cyclists, unsupervised dogs and toddlers, together meaning reduced pace, trying to see to place my feet. At certain times of the year inebriated hordes returning from the race course empty their bladders from a balustrade above, vocally caricaturing my running frame as that of an ‘AIDS victim’ (cf. Smith 1997).

5.7 Into the park and up a little pitch, lean forward ,shortening the stride, work the quads harder, hamstrings contracting sharply and grumbling, moving right all the time to avoid marshy patch there for six months of the year, work the arms hard, murmuring "come on son, dig in a bit". A bigger slope is before me, up past tennis courts, smooth all over, any line taken will do. Good for doing hill repeats here much to the consternation of those idly playing tennis! Along the park-top going good, summer hazard arises due to mini golf, be aware! Reach a big clump of trees around which in winter is a morass, producing freezing, sodden shoes, and sore Achilles tendons as one’s heels get sucked down too far in the mud. In summer, great ruts which do nothing for muscles along the shin, and periostisis of the tibia lurks.

5.8 I take a big swing to the left, knowing a smoother, drier and more cushioned line. The ground slopes down and as the park opens I raise the pace, keeping to the left, because to the right the terrain displays the same seasonal characteristics as around the clump of trees. Maintaining the same pace, moving up the park I pass over various putting greens, nice to the feet, but in the winter dark, poorly-lit by distant street lighting, the exact position of each hole being riveted into my cortex by visions of past ankle injuries. Across the park’s dividing road and down to its perimeter under which a stream flows, making it much colder on winter evenings, and when running here an extra layer goes on the legs. Two to three times a week on dark nights I can run here, as the local sports stadium floodlights reach this far. Up a short pitch and through a line of trees, remembering the time I tried it when the lights were on only half power, and I ended up being hit by a branch in the chest and couldn’t train for a week. "Mind the trees, mind the trees" - brain telling feet which skip over roots, accelerating down the line, sweat beginning to flow. Re-cross the road, down another slope we used to use for repeat intervals until major drainage work changed it into terrain where one could quite easily smash a leg. Dead Slow.

5.9 On to the big flat vista of the park, a long line of trees sought out as shade for the whole run when the high summer sun burns my celtic skin – up and down, up and down, monotonous but necessary. Now in the autumn, I reject that line covered as it is with pine cones and tree debris. Pine cones are not innocent, they lie in wait for the unwary, rolling under the foot with potential injurious consequences. And neither are the multi-coloured piles of leaves concealing kerb edges, roots and other booby-traps. Moving alongside but outside the tree line, keeping the rhythm and the cadence high, lengthening the stride, increasing the pace to accomplish four long efforts. With a mouth flecked with spittle, I look at the autumnal products fallen from trees with suspicion.

5.10 Making a right turn to the end of the park alongside the football pitches, slowing my momentum as I know minor drainage work was also done here, and re-turfing was inadequate. The grass has grown over divots, and holes and I know ambushes await for the naive runner! Circling slowly I look back down the park to the basketball court area, adjacent to the path where dog owners let their carnivore charges roam with almost routine negative consequences for athletic legs (cf. Smith, 1997). Also, it is from this area that during high summer teenagers illegally ride off- road motorcycles, occasionally for fun, aiming them at one’s lightly clad torso. Today, luckily there are none of these obstacles to focusing on my training. I look at my watch, one more speed work set, and then an easy run home reversing the route. The legs are moist, the back wet and today the running body and mind are doing what they are supposed to do.

6. Differences in route knowledge

6.1 Word length restrictions preclude a full depiction of the knowledge of this particular route, and suffice it to say that running the reverse direction, our consciousness retains similar items of knowledge. For example, during mid-winter some sections of pavement are more prone to ice than others and are consequently to be avoided. In a similar fashion, the grass verges on some stretches of road are acknowledged to be traversable, whilst others are known to be dangerous, due to concealed holes. On other routes, certain roads are identified as good (flat and smooth) for speedwork but only during certain hours, outside of which running becomes almost a homicidal act due to traffic levels.

6.2 Interrogation of our field-notes indicated that the vast majority of this knowledge was shared by both the author and his training partner. We are both veteran distance runners with decades of paying attention to the focal concerns of training previously outlined, and a decade of living in the same geographical area. This has resulted in a particular stock of knowledge being built up incrementally. This is not to say that analysis of our field-notes did not highlight differences in our knowledge bases. There were indeed differences but they were minor in comparison to what was shared between us. Where such differences were evident, their occurrence was without exception attributed to two sources, namely: gender (cf. Bale, 1994) and previous injury. Thus, certain parts of routes were categorised as somewhat risky for solo training during the dark of winter evenings by my female training partner, on account of their lack of adequate street lighting. In contrast I viewed the same sections with impunity when running alone (cf. Smith, 1997). Individually both of us have suffered from various running injuries over the years, a state of affairs symptomatic of distance runners generally (Howe, 2004). Some of these problems afflicted both of us (e.g., damaged knees), whilst other injuries have only impacted upon one of us. So, for example, the author is much more aware of the camber of various training routes, and the need to vary the direction on them. This knowledge emanates from a bout of illiotibial tract inflammation caused by training on routes with particularly angled cambers.

7. Running practice and embodied knowledge

7.1 The knowledge described in the previous narrative section was depicted in an explicit fashion so as to clearly inform the reader. In reality, when training, this information is not always at the front of our consciousness, but is used as a resource which is drawn upon to accomplish what we are focusing upon, that is accomplishing a particular run. So, as we run up a slope we are focused on the corporeal task of ascending it. Given our familiarity with routine routes, we both individually know at a physiological level the degree of effort required, together with the particular technique demanded, as we work the quadriceps harder, take shorter strides, pump the arms faster, lean into the slope, and breath more deeply. At the same time we are identifying and selecting the easiest path up the slope, seeking out the best ‘line’ of running, for its lack of obstacles, for its cushioning in the summer, and its dryness in the winter.

7.2 The knowledge used is then "tacit knowledge" (Polanyi, 1973) and it daily informs our training, and crucially helps us accomplish it, efficiently and safely. It forms part of what Bourdieu (1990) has called the habitus: an assembly of perceptions, dispositions, habitual understandings and actions which inter-relate, and are specific to particular collectivities, in this case distance runners. Bourdieu (1990) has also identified, within the encompassing habitus, a particular body habitus within which the aforementioned elements, "govern one’s relations to one’s own body" (Harvey & Sparkes, 1991, p.173). Route knowledge and our bodies are synthesized in the practical activity of what Bourdieu (1990) calls the ‘logic of practice’ when doing distance running training. How we physically run is informed by route knowledge in terms of where we put our feet and how we position them- for example, close together on rough ground, far apart when striding downhill etc, and consequently our bodily direction, and posture. This practice is the manifestation of habitus itself (Bourdieu, 1977). Our years of training and a decade of moving over the same terrain have produced what Bourdieu (1998) might have termed a "feel for the game" (p. 80) of distance running, a crucial part of which is route knowledge.

7.3 For most of us, landscape is evaluated using broad cultural codes (Rose, 1993). However, particular communities and groups view landscape in particular ways (cf. Woodward, 1998). When training, distance runners look at terrain with the kinds of knowledge depicted. Sudnow (1972) has stressed the importance of ‘the glance’ as a form of visual inquiry particularly within contexts and settings where only glances are possible or permitted. The visual orientation of runners traversing territory, particularly where the footfall is not regular and smooth or where it is badly lighted, is comprised of a series of glances moving from the immediate foreground (5 metres or so) to the middle-ground and back again. On sections where the route is especially problematic (badly maintained pavements, ploughed fields, etc) glances to the middle ground are necessarily reduced, as runners visually interrogate the terrain in a particularly focused way, so as to facilitate the ‘going’ and avoid injury. Where training routes are new, this accumulation of knowledge starts from scratch in terms of specific items of information. However, experienced runners soon construct routes which facilitate their training objectives, by initially avoiding major obstacles (e.g., lack of street lighting in winter, roads with heavy traffic etc) and identifying preferred ground (quiet roads, parks etc). Once routes are established their minutiae are learnt as they are trained upon routinely. On occasion these routes are known collectively, being used by members of athletic clubs generally on ‘club runs’. More prevalent are the kind of routes depicted in this paper, which are constructed by individuals and their training partner(s). Knowledge of routes is also passed between distance runners, either in terms of a complete route, or in terms of particular areas which hold positive or negative features.

8. Conclusion

8.1 What has been presented in this paper is a particular kind of ‘local’, specialist knowledge which has been acquired as a result of "socially specific spatial practices" (Stewart, 1995, p. 611), as two runners have trained over a particular route for a number of years. For us our everyday physical routines take place within the space of the route. We construct the route by running it (Lefebvre, 1991) and perceive it as ‘the route’ whilst engaging with it physically stride by stride. We also foresee it en-route by envisioning what particularities of it are about to meet us, as we progress along it. In addition, we also conceive it in the abstract when not running, constructing it via discourse using such phases as ‘sticky going out there tonight’, or ‘what kind of shoes do you think we need out there this afternoon’. This knowledge is learnt and put into practice to facilitate distance running. What is of concern ‘out there’ running is identified via such knowledge, categorized by it, and becomes part of that knowledge itself. We selectively attend to these features of our daily running which become "visible rational and reportable for all practical purposes" (Garfinkel, 1984, p. vii), namely accomplishing it efficiently and safely in particular spatial surroundings. In addition, our running bodies are produced and maintained en route via bodily practice (Bourdieu, 1990), using the particular body of knowledge depicted, and in turn, this combination has had an ongoing influential impact upon the construction and maintenance of our distance running identities. Thus, even when sedentary and silent, the great majority of our individual thoughts on running, our internal ‘identity work’ (Snow & Anderson, 1995) so to speak, features us en route. As Rose (1995, p. 335) has noted: "Identities are in part constituted by the kind of space through which they imagine themselves".

8.2 Whilst the particularities of the data presented may be idiosyncratic, there is no reason to believe that the social practice of examining running routes and acting upon that evaluation when in motion, is not a commonplace one within the subculture of distance runners. Indeed, interaction with that subculture supports that contention. The common pragmatic concerns of enhancing performance via efficient training and guarding against injury, so as to achieve racing goals, points to the general phenomenon of runners becoming intimately aware of their training territory (Lutz, 1991; Smith, 1997).

8.3 Writing two decades ago, Hargreaves (1982) noted that sociology had ignored the precise ways individuals actually undertook sport. More recently, when surveying the literature on attempts to explain sport at a phenomenological level, Kerry and Armour (2000, p. 10) found a paucity of material. In an attempt to add to this small stock of knowledge, this paper has identified a particular form of mundane knowledge which informs the activities which make it possible for individuals to function as distance runners. Pursuing these mundanities further within distance running, one might wish to interrogate other kinds of knowledge, for example concerning courses which are to be raced upon, or knowledge concerning the relationship between racing strategies and course knowledge. The point is that we have very little knowledge of this order within athletics or in other sports, in particular those where the playing ‘terrain’ changes (e.g., golf, skiing, cycling etc). Given that the possession of such everyday knowledge impacts directly upon how participants effect sporting action, there would seem to be fertile grounds for uncovering such mundane sporting knowledge generally.

Acknowledgements: The author wishes to thank Jacquelyn Allen Collinson and the anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments on an earlier draft.

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