Yesterday morning, I plotted out and ran 26.2 miles. It’ll be my longest run ’till the Trails4Tails Ultra Marathon, so I made it a good-luck-training-marathon.

The run itself was quite enjoyable, and it presents an opportunity to show off my newest toy: a Garmin Forerunner 410. My darling wife gave it to me as a wedding present, and it’s made my runs just a little happier ever since. The real fun part, though, is analyzing the data afterwards. Behold:

This is the most general breakdown of my run. Rest assured that I could offer you– mile per mile– my elevation gained or lost, calories burnt, best/worst/average pace, and tons of other stuff you don’t care about.

Or I could skip to the coolest part:

It compares the elevation of the terrain I cross (green) with my speed (blue). Pretty cool, eh?

I mentioned before my recent relocation. I’ve actually remained embarrassingly close to my childhood home (a township over). Apparently, however, terrain can change a LOT within such a short distance.

I now live in a region that consists of mountainous hills and plunging craters. Here the face of the earth is so pitted that I never tread flat ground.

Or at least that’s the way it seems when I’m running.

A couple days ago I went for a 9-miler at a turtlish pace. While certainly not the most difficult run I’ve ever experienced, it may have been the hilliest. I was always driving up an incline or swooping down a decline.

Gravity was not my friend that day—nor will it be for a little while. I’m sure that I will adapt to this new terrain; a few months on these hills will make me stronger. Until then, well, the building process is always a painful one.

Thoughts of Broadstreet bring a sinking feeling to my stomach. The race is about five weeks away and I, well… I’m still in pretty bad shape.

Last week, though, I did experience a brief glimmer of hope. On Thursday I did an 8 mile tempo run. With little idea of what I could accomplish (beyond its insufficiency), I tried to split my run into mile intervals, alternating between slow and fast miles. For the slow miles, I meant to run about 7:30. The fast miles where supposed to be around 5:30.

My actual results:
Mile 1 (slow): 6:58
Mile 2 (fast): 4:56
Mile 3 (slow): 7:21
Mile 4 (fast): 4:34*
Mile 5 (slow): 7:15
Mile 6 (fast): 4:54
Mile 7 (slow): 7:01
Mile 8 (fast): 5:10

*split had a generous downhill. Still, though- holy crap.

What this shows, other than my inability to hit target paces, is that I’m not totally out of the running. There may be some hope of a good race come May 1st.

“Dave, buddy, you gotta get those knees up.”

The ambitious freshmen (ambitious because this was a tempo run and he was chasing varsity) looked exhausted. He had been running fast, and his terrible form was beginning to tax him. He didn’t bend his knees, like he was sweeping the sidewalk with his feet.

He smiled bashfully and did as he was told. Meanwhile, one of my cheekier seniors turned to me with a knowing look. He appreciated the irony of the situation.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” I added, mostly for the senior’s benefit. I, too, had grasped the irony of my criticisms.

I have heard several times that I run with a jogger’s form– in slow motion. I take small, strangely energy-efficient steps like Cliff Young. And, while I don’t sweep my feet like brooms, I don’t lift my knees as high as good form dictates.

Dave managed to finish the workout with varsity– for the first time ever. His form improved briefly, and then he returned to sweeping duty. I didn’t bother to correct him the second time. form, after all, isn’t everything.

Four weeks, four snowstorms. It may not sound like a lot to some- a northern Vermonter, for example, might pause in goat-milking only long enough to snort dismissively at such weather. But around Philadelphia, that’s a lot of snow. Everyone’s weary of the whiteouts, especially those of us who leave the warmth of our home in footwear designed not for shoveling but for running.

According to my sources, recent snowfall can be blamed on the ire of a jet stream, which, as far as I can tell, is some sort of capricious weather demon.

But there is good news. This week’s storm (for the storms will continue) is only supposed to bring about two inches of snow. The jet stream must have been appeased somehow- somehow perhaps involving dancing and chicken-sacrifices.

Original map courtesy of phillyweather.net

I hope that this will allow for some overdue miles. Training should start with a 35-40 mile week (I’m a cautious optimist), and from there I can grind my way upward in mileage until I feel ready for the next meaningful race. Snow spirits allowing, of course.