Run 447 Average pace: 5:47/km
Location: Burnaby Lake (CW)
Distance: 10:07 km
Time: 58:20
Weather: Sun and cloud
Temp: 21ºC
Wind: light to moderate
BPM: 160
Stride: n/a
Weight: 159.2 pounds
Total distance to date: 3570 km
Device used: Apple Watch and iPhone 6
I slept in so started out later than intended today, but still started in the morning (and ended in the afternoon). The weather was evenly split, with the first half of the run sunny and the second half overcast. The temperature never budged from 21ºC, so conditions were pretty comfortable.
I started out slower and basically just stayed slower throughout, with little variation, though I was faster in the first half of the run, perhaps powered by the sun’s energy, just like Superman. Cardio-wise I felt like it was more effort in the first half, likely just feeling the sun, but it was tolerable and I never felt like I was close to ending the run early or anything.
The upper right leg got stiff around the 6K mark but I pressed on and within a few km it was fine and remained fine after. But at the 8K mark my left calf suddenly decided to stiffen up. It was odd and I kept going and it, too, went away on its own. My legs are strange.
Other than that, the run went decently enough. I was expecting having the weekend off would lead to a slower pace and 5:47/km isn’t too terrible, being only six seconds off Friday. I finished the 10 km and surprised myself with a weirdly slow walk back home. I have been hitting under 9:00/km on the walks to and from the lake but today the walk back came in at 9:25/km. I’m actually a bit baffled as I didn’t think I was moving that slow (slow being a relative term).
The trail construction was more minimal today, though I did have to once again duck out of the way of a vehicle on the path. Other than that it was relatively quiet and that was nice.
Two and a half years ago I got a Fitbit One. It’s one of only two trackers Fitbit makes that doesn’t strap to your wrist. I keep mine in the watch pocket of my jeans (or just in the regular pocket of my shorts when the summer weather is actually summer-like). This had the effect of making me treat its goals casually. If I made the 10,000 step daily goal it was nice but I never felt inclined to push toward it.
About eight months ago I picked up an Apple Watch. It has an activity app that tracks three things: Move, Exercise and Standing. The stand goal is pretty simple, as the Apple site states: “The Stand ring closes when you’re up for at least one minute in 12 different hours during a day.” This is pretty easy to achieve unless you spend 15 hours of the day sleeping. Move tracks active calories, so simply walking will contribute to this, albeit not super quickly. Exercise is defined as activity that is at least at a pace of brisk walking. This is set to 30 minutes by default and is usually the first goal I hit each day because the 30 minutes don’t have to be consecutive and I pretty much walk briskly all the time, varying only in the degree of briskness.
Now that I’ve explained what the Apple Watch activity app does, I’ll explain the crucial feature that separates it from my Fitbit One: the watch is on my wrist and the activity ring is on the watch face I’ve selected, meaning I can at a glance always see how close I am to the three goals. I see the incomplete rings and they bug me, just as they’re supposed to. The visibility makes all the difference. The activity app will also occasionally make the watch chirp or tap my wrist to remind me to stand or egg me on for one of the other goals. And I obey.
Take today, for example. I normally do about a 5 km walk each day and that, combined with other moving about and generally existing, is usually enough to get me the exercise and move goals. Today, with the full effect of vacation settling in and no run scheduled, I was feeling lazy. I did some walking for about 20 minutes but that’s not enough to fill those rings. I lazed away most of the afternoon. I had dinner. I looked at the time. I looked at those incomplete rings. I got up and went for a brisk walk. I kept walking until my watch happily dinged, confirming I’d reached my move goal. Then I walked a little more before coming home just because.
I also stopped and scratched the ears of a tabby cat that lives a few blocks from my place on the way back. Bonus calories burned, rewarded with purring.
Another insidious feature of the activity app is it tracks consecutive days and rewards you for streaks. My move streak is currently 176 days. As it grows longer I get more anxious about breaking it so I keep walking, I keep moving.
One night I went out in a rainstorm at 10:30 p.m. and circled a four block area twice to reach my move goal. I did this after calculating that walking briskly in the restricted confines of the condo wouldn’t get me to the goal before midnight, thus leading to the horror of the move streak ending. Unacceptable.
And here’s the thing: I am a self-admitted slave to this technology. It works exactly as it is designed to, providing just the right level of incentive to keep me going. But it’s good because it keeps me moving, prevents me from calcifying in a chair for hours at a time and is keeping me generally aware of the importance of remaining active and specifically bugging me when I’m not. I’ve even started adjusting the move goal higher, forcing me to do more to hit it.
Now, if all of this turns out to be a sneaky way to get humanity to lay down the groundwork for SkyNET or the Matrix or something, I’ll be miffed. But I’ll be miffed and in shape.
Run 446 Average pace: 5:41/km
Location: Burnaby Lake (CW)
Distance: 10:05 km
Time: 57:15
Weather: Sun with occasional high cloud
Temp: 18-20ºC
Wind: light to moderate
BPM: 156
Stride: n/a
Weight: 160.7 pounds
Total distance to date: 3559 km
Device used: Apple Watch and iPhone 6
I’ve been sticking to a counter-clockwise pattern at the lake since the trail resurfacing began in order to minimize my having to dodge heavy equipment and awkwardly-placed piles of dirt but today the urge to mix things up overcame my concern over awkwardly-placed piles of dirt, so I went clockwise.
I again set the run officially for 7K, planned to do at least 8K, with 10K as a special bonus if I was up to it.
I started out right at the 0 marker to easily track my distance (I don’t like looking at the fitness app on the watch while running–it’s weird, I know. I’m afraid I’ll see my pace, become discouraged and then slow down even more, or some other weird psychological thing) and headed off under a sunny morning sky. On the Avalon trail I spied a group of people but I couldn’t tell what they were doing. Were they a group of walkers pondering the map? Searching for someone’s lost keys? They started moving as I got closer and turned off onto the Southshore trail. Drat. This meant I would have to deal with them shortly.
Here’s the thing with walking groups. I’ve mentioned before they tend to blob out all over the trail, actively blocking others in both directions. It seems also that the larger the group, the more oblivious they will be to, probably, anything. Other pedestrians, joggers, wild horses, coyotes, low flying planes.
This was one of those groups. Rather than sow confusion by announcing my impending arrival (usually with “On your left!”) I opted to scoot by on the left, where the trail did not dip into a ditch or anything. It was a tight squeeze and one of the walkers helpfully blurted out “Jogger!” as I was passing through, but I got by and continued on my way. I made it past the first boardwalk but then hit the same detour as Wednesday and had to move onto the Freeway trail. This also rendered me starting at the 0 marker pointless, as I now had no way of knowing exactly how far I’d run. Oh well.
When I returned to the Southshore trail a few minutes later it wasn’t quite as treacherous as Wednesday, though I did get close to an excavator that was backing up down another trail. I felt a little bad jogging over the freshly packed gravel two men were still raking and fluffing up, but hey, gotta break it in sometime.
As I passed the 4K mark it seemed plausible that I might be able to do 10K. The right leg was behaving, I’d found a rhythm that found me breathing comfortably (BPM was down to 156) and then there was a second walking group. This one I met head-on and several dramatically leaped out of my way even though there was no need to. I appreciated the sentiment that I was some unstoppable force.
I continued on and by the time I hit 8K I knew that short of sudden bear attack/walking group consisting of large immovable metallic men, I would hit 10K and I did. The walk home also came in at under 9:00/km, so overall it was a good effort.
The second half of the run was slower and the pace was inconsistently consistent. That is, each km was never more than a few seconds off from the one before or after, but the actual times were a veritable roller coaster, up and down, up and down. The overall pace of 5:41/km was only five seconds off my 8K pace and still ahead of some of my earlier 7Ks, so I’m pleased with that. For some reason my opening km was 5:09/km, one of my fastest yet. I wasn’t even trying to run fast. This also includes where I was slowed by the first walking group. Weird.
Anyway, I’m pleased that I hit 10 km at last. Now I have the weekend to recover, with the next run on Monday, when I’m sure winter conditions will return once again.
Run 445 Average pace: 5:36/km
Location: Burnaby Lake (CCW)
Distance: 8.07 km
Time: 45:20
Weather: Overcast
Temp: 15ºC
Wind: light to moderate
BPM: 162
Stride: n/a
Weight: 160.5 pounds
Total distance to date: 3549 km
Device used: Apple Watch and iPhone 6
The weather was a replay of yesterday, though without the rain. The conditions were actually nice for running–cool but not cold, overcast but not wet, with just enough of a breeze to be refreshing.
Mindful of having run the last two days, I started out at a deliberate pace and overall held pretty steady after the inevitable 2K adjustment and the 6-7K dip. I finished strong (partial reason below) but just as I came up on 8 km, I started to feel the upper right leg getting stiff/sore, so I called it there. By the end of the walk home the leg was fine, so I’ll aim for 8 and push for 10K again on Friday.
My overall pace was the best for a lake run this year at 5:36/km and I felt pretty good throughout. Surprisingly, I still managed to sweat a fair bit, probably due to the humidity and in spite of the relative chill. I was also surprised by the number of people I encountered on a gray weekday morning. The trail wasn’t packed but there was a relatively steady stream of walkers and joggers. The most annoying was a walking group. These groups that one might imagine would know more than the average person about trail etiquette and unspoken rules, often seem to know the least and tend to spread themselves across the trail in a giant unpassable blob. To their credit, this group was a little more on top of things.
Despite earlier showers, I didn’t have to dodge any puddles, though the trail was still wet in spots. What I did have to dodge were slugs. Lots and lots of slugs. At times I had to exercise great dexterity to avoid sending slugs to their maker, but I think I got through without any slime-trailing casualties.
The detour came right near the end of the run. I decided to call it at 8K and at nearly the same moment came up to a sign directing me onto the Freeway trail, as part of the trail was again closed for resurfacing. The last few minutes prior to my exit via the detour were a tad hairy. I first encountered a park worker raking the sides of a freshly-surfaced section of trail. He had his little gravel-flattening machine parked just past him up the trail (I have no idea what these are called. They’re basically little hand-operated steam rollers except they don’t have a roller, just a flat belt that presses down and flattens the ground or whatever is below it). After this section of the trail came the in-between section that had neither the old surface nor the new surface. Instead it had been gouged out by an excavator and was filled with a number of piles of dirt (base layer) that had not yet been flattened.
The gouging left deep ruts and holes and the dirt piles were giant obstacles. I approached this stretch at full speed and unaware (there is a reason why cyclists are not permitted here and numerous blind corners are one of them). I managed to stay upright through this patch and entered another gouged area that did not yet have dirt piles in it. I passed a side trail and spied an excavator with a huge pile of dirt in its scoop trundling toward the same trail I was on. When I next glanced behind me it was on my trail and seemingly gaining ground. It occupied pretty much the entire width of the trail, so having it catch up would have been awkward or possibly fatal. I fired up the jets to make space between us and that is how the final km of my run was almost as fast as the first one.
Overall, I am pleased with the results, though wary as always of the right leg. I think it’s fine and I’ll have a full day’s rest tomorrow, save for a likely 5K walk, but that shouldn’t affect things. At any rate, this is already a million times better than last summer’s disastrous August.
I first read this book back in 1984 when the Cold War was still a legitimate threat–just before Gorbachev started the policy of Glasnost and Reagan was still joking about bombing the Russians. It left an indelible impression of how even a limited nuclear attack could have devastating, world-changing consequences that could stretch on for decades. Reading it now there is a certain sense of distance with the old U.S./USSR rivalry long dead, Putin’s efforts to turn back the clock notwithstanding, but the reality is most of these nuclear missiles still exist, with more than enough firepower to ruin your day and then some.
The book is written as a first person account of the effects of a limited nuclear war five years after the bombs fell. The authors, Whitley Strieber and James Kunetka, place themselves into this fictional scenario set in the year 1993, starting a journey across America that takes them to both coasts before heading back to their adopted hometown of Dallas, where they work as reporters.
The story opens in October 1988 with Strieber’s recollection of being on a bus in downtown New York when the bombs fall. New York is one of three cities targeted in the first volley (the other volleys do not follow due to U.S. retaliation disabling the Soviets’ ability to counter-attack), the other two being Washington and San Antonio. He survives because the bombs miss New York proper, landing over Brooklyn and off the coast. He still gets dosed with enough radiation that he is later classified under the triage system as not treatable, as the radiation is expected to kill him within years and those with better survivability are given priority.
Bombs exploded in the upper atmosphere create an EMP effect that blankets the country, disabling nearly all electronics, ranging from computers to vehicle ignitions and most forms of communication. The final blow comes in the form of volleys aimed at missile silos in the Dakotas and other states. Winds sweep the radiation from these blasts across the bread basket of the U.S., devastating crops and leading to widespread famine.
Against this grim backdrop–the book suggest 7 million die on the day the bombs fall and up to 60 million die from the effect in the following five years–the authors find that some places have prospered, others have become uninhabitable, and assistance has been offered from other nations, albeit with a price.
The bulk of the story captures Strieber’s and Kunetka’s journey from state to state–mostly by rail, as air travel is still rare five years after the attack–conducting interviews with government officials and ordinary folks, supplementing these accounts with official documentation of the effects of the war. The level of detail in these mock documents is impressive and help paint a picture of a country that has been split apart, where deflation has reduced most items to cents, gold is the favored currency and the federal government, now in L.A., is a stunted shadow of its former self.
The narrative works because it presents its fiction so plainly, even when specific scenarios seem absurd when taken out of context. At one point the authors are escaping authorities in California–which was spared attack but has emerged as a near police-state, locking down its borders–dressed as priests. They make a daring escape from a prison bus to continue their journey through the devastated heartland before heading to New York and then back to Texas. It sounds ridiculous and yet the details that are drawn of California, at once prosperous, yet cold, allow these occasional dramatic embellishments to at least seem plausible.
The bulk of the story is in the interviews, where survivors talk about living through famine and flu, abandoning cities and entire regions killed by radiation, some drifting, others settling, with a general sense that the people are banding together and helping each other where they can. International aid comes from the British and Japanese primarily, but both seem willing to only do so much, with a strong suggestion that the other nations of the world are not exactly eager to see the U.S. re-assert itself as a global power again.
One especially chilling interview is with a British naval officer who works as part of a crew of sub poppers, so-called because their job is to find nuclear-armed submarines that are still at sea–and thus presenting a threat–and disabling or destroying them. He recounts taking out subs with enough firepower on board to cause devastation many times greater than what happened on Warday itself, a grim reminder of how terrible and terribly effective nuclear weapons are.
Although the specific scenario of Warday is no longer plausible–the Soviets launch a first strike due to the U.S. being on the verge of putting together a seemingly indestructible space-based defense system (how Reagan would have approved!)–the story remains as powerful now as it was over 30 years ago, simply because nothing at all has changed regarding the almost incomprehensible effects of nuclear bombs, and as mentioned, there are still an awful lot of them sitting silent in their silos, one launch code away from unleashing their destruction.
Run 444 Average pace: 5:17/km
Location: Brunette River trail
Distance: 5.04 km
Time: 26:40
Weather: Light rain showers
Temp: 15ºC
Wind: light to moderate
BPM: 151
Stride: n/a
Weight: 160.1 pounds
Total distance to date: 3541 km
Device used: Apple Watch and iPhone 6
Today marks the first official day of my vacation. It rained, of course.
Seeing that the weather was poop and yet wanting to hit my 10,000 step goal on my Fitbit and meet my three activity goals on my watch (exercise, calories and standing), I mulled what to do. Normally on a non-run day I’ll go for a walk for about an hour but the thing with walks in the summer when it’s raining is there’s no good way to dress. First, I don’t carry an umbrella because I hate them and if I could I’d go back in time and uninvent them because they are obnoxious latent eye-pokers. Second, because it’s summer it’s not really cold so you don’t need to bundle up as you normally would in inclement weather. You wear a jacket and go for a brisk walk and you’ll be sweaty and gross (and wet) in no time.
The alternative was to go for a run because I don’t care about getting wet/muddy when running. I rarely do next-day runs and was especially hesitant as I still consider myself in recovery mode, but around 1 p.m. the steady rain had eased up to a steady but light shower and the decision was made. The one nod to the weather was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt. Off I went on a short 5K run along the river trail.
During the entire 5K run I only encountered a single person, a man walking two dogs, one very large and one rather small. Perhaps the small dog was a snack for when the big dog got hungry. Happily, both were leashed and no trouble.
I worked to keep a steady pace, not wanting to push things and the right leg emerged unscathed. Being that it was only 15ºC and the glare of the sun was only affecting jetliners above the clouds, conditions were surprisingly good, despite the ever-present lack of windshield wipers on my glasses. My pace at the end was 5:17/km, which seemed quite decent. I checked my last 5K back on July 20 and my pace then was 5:28/km, so my timing today was not merely decent, it was significantly better. I think the weather played a major role, much as I hate summer rain on principle. My BPM was also lower at 151.
It’s supposed to be sunny again tomorrow, though not too warm at 21ºC. My plan is to head out earlyish in the morning while it’s still cool. I’ll be planning 8K and pushing to 10K if I feel up to it. It will be interesting to see how today’s run may affect tomorrow’s, if at all.
(I met my step, exercise and calorie goals, the stand goal I’ll hit in a few hours since it’s the one goal that is strictly time-based.)
Run 443 Average pace: 5:45/km
Location: Burnaby Lake (CCW)
Distance: 8.05 km
Time: 46:21
Weather: Sunny
Temp: 21-23ºC
Wind: light to moderate
BPM: 155
Stride: n/a
Weight: 159.6 pounds
Total distance to date: 3536 km
Device used: Apple Watch and iPhone 6
Last year I famously set out on the first Monday of my vacation on a 10K run. You can read about it here. Spoiler: it ended in horrible pain and I didn’t run again until January of this year.
Today’s run was started with some trepidation, not just because of the anniversary of that Titanic-like run, but also because when I woke up on Friday morning that same hip/hamstring/whatever it is was aching again. I had felt fine after Tuesday’s run so it again seemed to be associated with something that happened in the night as I slept.
Friday’s walk at lunch was slower than normal because of this and when I ran my time again retreated back to my previous slower pace (though it was also quite warm). By Sunday the achiness had mostly cleared up but I was not to be lulled into a false sense of security!
The walk to the lake this morning went briskly and with no achiness, but the moment I started actually running it hit. The good news is the run did not end like last year’s. The ache modified and by the end of the run had mostly dissipated. The walk home was fine. I don’t think I am in for a repeat of last year but man, I’d love to just run and not have to worry about this stuff.
I may have made matters slightly worse by forgetting to stretch before the run. Oops.
Onto the run itself. I officially set out to do a 7K run, feeling I was still not up to a full 10K yet, with the idea that if I felt good I would run farther. The whole hip thing made me think I’d stop at 7K but I was actually feeling decent by the time I’d covered 7 km, so I pushed on to do 8K and stopped there. Surprisingly, my pace was slightly better than Friday, coming in at 5:45/km. I started to feel a little slothful around 6K but kept pushing and got a nice second wind. I stopped at 8K simply because I didn’t want to push it. I’ll probably set 8K as a goal for Wednesday and see if I can make 10.
Much as it was last year on BC Day, the trail was fairly crowded, with a particularly large number of joggers, including one who was aiming for a head-on collision with me because he wasn’t following the stay-on-the-right rule. Perhaps surprisingly, nearly every runner at the lake does this. The naughty left-side runner darted out of the way in time. And again, no cyclists. Yay!
I am not really sure what to expect on Wednesday. I just hope I can emerge intact, however far I run.
