Ed: Of heat indexes and pacing

I decided to tackle a modified route that I ran yesterday, but do it at night this time. Not sure that was overly useful since my weather app dutifully told me that with 89% humidity, the "feels like" temperature was 102° at 9 PM. No matter how one measures it, it is warm tonight.

I had a couple of goals in mind. First and foremost was to complete the run without stopping. I sorta cheated in that I decided to cut the route a little shorter and make it only 2.2 miles. The second was to work on my pacing. For that I needed to establish some reference points. I located the one and two mile points using GoogleEarth, and made a mental note.

After some stretching at my customary mini-boulder on the neighbor's lawn, and I was on my way.

Not far into my run I passed though what could only be described as hazy fog of cigarette smoke. There was nobody around, but it sure lingered. That was unpleasant...the humidity really intensified the experience--and not in a good way. I continued south as I did yesterday, made my turn to the west, and ran past my one mile reference point. I looked at my watch and was dismayed.

13:27?

That's not a pace that will be helpful on the St. Jude run. I'm capable of a 12 minute pace, but I made the mistake of not fixing an earlier reference point to check how I am doing. Memo to self: when adjusting my running for a specific pace, I would do better than to check at one mile. I need a 1/4 and 1/2 mile fix. Not tonight though...no information to work with. So I press on to my two-mile mark.

Running at night has some benefits (temperature--normally), but certainly there are some drawbacks. There are no streetlights where we live, save for the occasional home with something out in the driveway. Oncoming cars tend to blind, making seeing challenging on a dark sidewalk. For the most part though, I can see well enough with the occasional passing car, yard lights, and just the ambient light that a neighborhood casts. There are, to be sure, some pretty dark areas that I am running in. Running in the darkness is an act of faith more than anything else. Pretty sure there's concrete there, and I think it's level...

Ooooomph!

Second memo to self: call the city and have them take a look at that frost-heave. I remembered seeing it in the daylight yesterday, and it was a good 4-6 inches displaced from level. Running at a constant pace, one expects shoe-and-concrete to connect with a certain rhythm. Back there? Not so much. That took my breath away, but I kept running on. I was just glad it was a drop and not a step up. Making a face-plant on concrete would have made me grumpy.

I finally turned down the road towards my home, and passed the two-mile mark. I looked at my watch again and was not happy with what I saw: 27:10. Not good enough. I maintained a consistent pace for the entire run, but I need to be faster. From my previous measurements I knew that I had .2 miles to finish the run at our home--so I bolted for that last bit. I ran basically as fast as my legs would carry me--and finished that part without stopping. I had the energy to run at a fairly good clip--even after running almost a half hour.

I think tomorrow is a rest day. I need to give the legs a chance to recuperate. My next run will be the same distance, but I'm kicking the pace up.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Tonight's video is DJ's story: