Yeah, I'm not even going to pretend like I have a run to discuss. I left for work a few minutes before 8am yesterday and got home about 8:30pm. And then, after I got home, I spent over an hour catching up on work emails that I hadn't been able to answer while at work.
Instead, I want to talk about the magical, mystical prognostication machine that is the McMillan Running Calculator. You tell this internet daemon a recent race time - say, 1:46 in a 10m race - and it predicts what a comparable time for different race distances would be. Thus my earlier contention that I might, maybe, possibly, if things go well run a 2:20 at the half this weekend. (A Boston 2:20, ahem, or 2:20:53 per McMillan.)
Runners know: McMillan's right, or at least he's pretty darn close. I love it.
Except... I have a question: how good is it on paces for non-races? Of the many calculations it gives you, it offers an assessment of what paces you should be running for your every day runs to maintain your race pace. For me, using the above example, I should be running 11:51-12:21 for my everyday runs, 11:51-12:51 for my long runs, and 12:51-13:21 for my recovery runs. But that's slow, even for me.
Do I just not do enough non-average running? Should I be incorporating tempo runs and steady state runs and fartleks and speed work, etc? Or should I stick with what's working? (It's sort of rhetorical. I think rather obviously the latter.)
Anyway, the weather this weekend has changed from perfect (40 degrees and sunny) to miserable (30 and "wintry mix", with winds). With it, my outlook on this race has changed from "2:20 or BUST" to "finish, and don't forget to bring warm, dry clothes with you for the ride home." What can I say? I'm a fair weather racer...
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"