Barb and I decided to tackle this week's long run of 9 miles on the American Tobacco Trail right after work.
We did a nice long stretch and then off we went. Our paces are quite far apart so we start off together but Barb is immediately in front of me and quickly disappears. I'm at a happy pace - trying to keep it even and I have no idea what 9 miles really feels like.
The American Tobacco trail is mile marked. I pass the .25 mark on the trail. I glance at my i-Pod and Nike Plus tells me I've run .27 miles. I think nothing of it.
I pass the 3 mile mark and Nike Plus tells me I've run 3.7 miles.
I consider for just a moment that the American Tobacco Trail is wrong. I've put my faith and trust and nascent running career in the hands of this little device. It can't be wrong.
It is wrong. I feel a small sense of betrayal. And I feel a small sense of defeat. I felt like I was barely hanging on a string in terms of keeping up with miles and running at a good pace. And now to learn I've gone less miles at a slower pace. Disheartening. Especially for someone like me who loves precision and tracking. It's all undermined.
Barb, miles ahead of me realizes the same thing and thinks of me. I've also thought of her when I noticed it too. When we pass each other (it's a there and back trail so that will happen) we almost in unison explain that the Nike Plus isn't properly calibrated.
Needless to say, the run takes us much longer than planned. Barb does the full 9 I do 8.5. We left our clothes at the YMCA. YMCA closes at 7:30. At 7:40 I am still on the trail. Luckily, Barb has gotten my stuff. But I'm still a sweaty disgusting mess with plans in Durham. I need a shower. Luckily the downtown Y is open to 9. I arrive at 8:40 (we take post run stretching very seriously). The woman is like "We close at 9." I tell her I'm just there to take a shower. At 9:00 pm on a Friday night I get kicked out of the locker room.