As you know, I adore long-run Sunday. Today was particularly exciting because it was to be the first time I’ve gone six consecutive miles–I’ve been excited all week. So this afternoon, hydrated and fortified with oatmeal, I headed out into the cold desert to find a new route. Down a dirt road I drove, through one of those trailer settlements that are so common in the remote parts of the West, past scads of cows, until I reached a nice turnaround point.
It was a glorious run. I had the nicely rolling road to myself, and didn’t stop once to walk. When the Nike+ called out the halfway point, I turned around, terrorized a few cows as I ran behind them for a mile, and reached the car without even a hint of exhaustion.
Suspicious. Then, when good old Nike+ informed me that I’d just run 6 miles at 8:19 per mile, I knew something was up. Sure enough, when I measured the distance in the car, it came out to about 4.7 miles.
I’m so, so disappointed. This was going to be a big milestone, and the worst part is that I could have easily kept going for that extra 1.3 miles. The culprit? Recalibrating the stupid thing on a track on Friday, running with a longer stride than normal. boooo So, I’m going to count today as Tuesday’s run and move the long run to Tuesday.
Here’s the run graph, which I can’t change on the Nike site. I didn’t go 6.27 miles, and I didn’t burn 801 calories.
And here’s the week, with the aborted, dead-legs attempt on Wednesday: