This morning, in beautiful and historic Fort Worth, Texas (13 miles from my house), I did my 17th footrace since Labor Day and my 143d overall. The 10K race is called the Einstein Run. I did it six years ago when it was a nine-mile race. (My mile pace that day was 7:23.48.) I still don't know why it's called the Einstein Run. My theory, which nobody has disconfirmed, is that it's named after a former member of the Fort Worth Running Club who looked like Einstein. It's as good a name as any, I guess. The slogan is "Run at the speed of light."
The weather, once again, was perfect for running. It was overcast (the sun drains you, even when it's cold, so while I like the sun, it's in my interest for it to be overcast), cold (38º Fahrenheit), and calm. People in northern climes will laugh when I say that 38º is cold, but remember: I'm a 20-year resident of Texas who lived in Tucson for five years before that. That's a quarter of a century of warm weather, which nullifies the 26 years I lived in Michigan. I have lost my tolerance for cold. I wore shorts, a tank top, a long-sleeved cotton shirt over the tank top, and cotton gloves. It turned out to be just right: I wasn't cold and I wasn't hot.
I felt terrific in the first mile, which I did in 6:54. Since I was shooting for an overall mile pace of 7:10 or better, I was in good shape. But at the two-mile marker, I had a shock. I was over 15 minutes. What the? It should have been less than 14 minutes. There's nothing to do at that point but keep running. I assumed that the mile marker was misplaced. When I reached the turnaround point, however (at 3.1 miles), I was more than a minute slower than I should have been. Something was seriously amiss. The remaining mile markers were also out of place.
As soon as I crossed the finish line, I said to the official, "The course was long." He said he knew. Other runners (I was 14th overall) had noticed and complained. I calculated that the course was a quarter of a mile too long. While waiting for the awards, I found a man who had worn a GPS device. He had 6.54 miles, which means the course was a third of a mile too long. Voila! When I got home and calculated my mile pace, it was 7:07.71, which is what I expected. Given that distance, I did the first half (3.27 miles) at a 6:59.57 pace and the second half at a 7:15.85 pace. There was a slight headwind on the return trip. I also faded, having gone out too fast.
I don't mind the extra distance, as long as I know what it was. I want to buy a GPS device for running and bicycling. Do you have one? If so, tell me about it. By the way, I got first place again. The trophy is my 60th award in 143 races, not counting finisher's awards. I win something nearly every time now, which shows that I have kept myself in better shape than most men my age. I've never smoked; I haven't had a drop of alcohol since February 1978; and, most importantly, I haven't had red meat (beef, pork, &c) since February 1981. I live a boring, clean life. (Boring to other people, that is. Every day of my life has been exciting to me.) Does it mean I'll live to be 100? Of course not. I could have a heart attack five minutes from now. But just because I don't have total control over my longevity doesn't mean that I have no control over it.
Addendum: Here is a top-of-the-line Garmin GPS watch.
