And all this time I thought I was running!

 It's official!

This past Sunday I wrote a post about my declining pace performance. I showed a graph with speeds in MPH based on GPS watch data. My Garmin often under-counts my distance, so the speeds on the graph are probably 3.2-4% slower than my actual average speed. I was a little surprised to see a comment that seemed targeted to the lowest pace on my graph. The comment said, "The official name of anything below 5.5 is 'walking.'''

This is good to know, because all this time when I was running 10-something paces for ten or more miles on the Bethpage trail, I thought I was actually running. But what about those race-walkers that reach paces in the 6:00/mile range? Very confusing. Technically, I believe it is considered running when both feet leave the ground, versus walking, where one foot always remains on the ground.

I know this commenter was just being sarcastic (if a little mean). Perhaps he/she can clear up some other questions for me, such as, "What's the official difference between rapping and singing?" In the meantime, I'm declaring anyone who calls themselves a runner to be one. And no matter what speed they actually run, it's still running.

Freedom of speech and on the trail

Into the woods

Today's run (Stillwell Woods): 3.5 miles

Those of you who also have running blogs know that the easier you make it for people to comment, the more you'll find people who'll take advantage of that access. Over the years I've changed the criteria for submitting comments. Now I allow anyone to post, because I just don't want to leave anyone out. As a result, I have to clean out a bunch of spam comments every day. But it's a small price to pay for freedom of speech!

This morning I decided that I needed to take my performance focus down a notch, so I headed over to Stillwell for an easy trail run. It was dry, cool and sunny and the trails were in great shape. A mile or so into the run, I realized how strong I felt. Stillwell tends to beat me up badly, and this was evidence that my conditioning has improved.

Besides a couple of mountain bikers and woman walking her dog, the trails were empty. I loved the feeling of running well and having the woods pretty much all to myself. There's usually a point in almost every run when you begin to feel the work. You start thinking about how much longer or farther you have to go. Today was different in the best of ways. Tomorrow it's back to road, the hills and the miles.