Just been for a solitary autumnal run through a dusky deer park. Sounds
idyllic? Not so. I'd forgotten that it's rutting season for the deer,
and so was rudely brought out of my Keatsian reverie by the terrifying
bellowing of lairy stags who obviously didn't take kindly to a fat
beardy creature lumbering out of the mist.
Met the first one about half way round, and quickly changed course.
Several others curtailed the evening's run, as I took the quickest route
back to the gates, my car and safety, all the time imagining every
sound behind me was a charging stag. Problem was, while it was a
pleasant downhill run into the park, it was uphill on the way out, and I
had no energy left for trying to outrun several hundred pounds of
venison with antlers and an attitude.
Think I might have to rethink that route...
Monday 11 October 2010
Thursday 9 September 2010
Running free
All I wanted to know was, how fast I’m going, and how far? Not to be
obliged to run a particular route, just because it’s the one I’ve mapped
out in advance. To go where the fancy takes me, and to come back with
meaningful information that I can use as part of my training program.
So, I invested in the very simplest of the vast array of GPS-equipped fandangos available at the moment, and took my first run with the infernal contraption strapped to my wrist today. I’ve known of the existence of these things for some time now, managing to ignore them in a contentedly luddite fashion for just as long. I run to escape, not least from being stuck in front of a computer for most of my working day. Why would I want to allow technology to blunder rudely in upon my relaxation time? Eventually, though, curiosity’s got the better of me. That, and the promise of just heading out with no fixed plan and following my feet.
How marvelous, but also, how frightening? This thing knows exactly where I’ve been, how long it’s taken me to get there, how fast I was going at which point, my precise elevation above sea level at any given moment, and what I'm thinking about at the time. Well, maybe not the last one, but you get the picture. It could even tell me how fast my heart’s beating, if I’d bought the necessary accessory (I probably will buy the necessary accessory at some point). The amount of data that it captures is quite astonishing, much more than I really need. Is it going to turn my runs into techno-fests of number crunching? I don’t think so – I reckon the attraction of the bells and whistles will wear off soon. Will it reinvigorate my training, and help to get me out of bed on the cold, dark winter mornings that are rapidly approaching? I think it might.
So, I invested in the very simplest of the vast array of GPS-equipped fandangos available at the moment, and took my first run with the infernal contraption strapped to my wrist today. I’ve known of the existence of these things for some time now, managing to ignore them in a contentedly luddite fashion for just as long. I run to escape, not least from being stuck in front of a computer for most of my working day. Why would I want to allow technology to blunder rudely in upon my relaxation time? Eventually, though, curiosity’s got the better of me. That, and the promise of just heading out with no fixed plan and following my feet.
How marvelous, but also, how frightening? This thing knows exactly where I’ve been, how long it’s taken me to get there, how fast I was going at which point, my precise elevation above sea level at any given moment, and what I'm thinking about at the time. Well, maybe not the last one, but you get the picture. It could even tell me how fast my heart’s beating, if I’d bought the necessary accessory (I probably will buy the necessary accessory at some point). The amount of data that it captures is quite astonishing, much more than I really need. Is it going to turn my runs into techno-fests of number crunching? I don’t think so – I reckon the attraction of the bells and whistles will wear off soon. Will it reinvigorate my training, and help to get me out of bed on the cold, dark winter mornings that are rapidly approaching? I think it might.
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