Marjanska Skalinada

I’ve never been a big fan of running stairs. I seek hills, but I have very little tolerance for running stairs. The two are fundamentally different. If I had to describe what it felt like to run stairs, I’d say it’s like running a Cooper Test entirely uphill.

You don’t really ease in to it and you can quickly skim the surface of your max HR if you haven’t trained much on it. Actually, if you have very little tolerance for spending any time at all at your red zone, you’d probably really hate running stairs.

There’s no gray area: you’re either running it one-step or two-steps, you walk at some point, or you jog all the way. Today, I watched the winning runner silently sprint past four men, over six flights of stairs, and then proceeded to continue sprinting up two steps at a time with about 300 more steps to go. That guy was a monster. I was not.

Although, I did finish at the top of my age group again.

This is, perhaps, the only time I could call an 11 min 50 sec 1.32 km run as a personal best.

Marjanska Skalinada

Fitness trackers are a lot like playing video games

It’s been a while since I last played a video game. Traveling often and bootstrapping isn’t really conducive to gaming, so I had to give that up. Although, I sometimes wonder if other people notice that fitness trackers are constantly mimicking the coolness factor of newer video games. I’m always oggling new tech, so it’s hard not to notice.

Take a look at this game reel, which demonstrates the Snowdrop engine, fairly new in gaming technology.

The first impression that most people have is that it’s hyper realistic, which makes it pretty awesome. The second impression most of us might have are the awesome UI elements.

Part of the reason why Smashrun looks the way that it does is because all three of us are gamers. Of course, it helps that @chrislukic used to build badass dashboards for investment banks and I used to work on a data analytics platform for S&P. From the moment Smashrun went live, we were all about understanding data.

Video games have always made an effort to provide context through UI elements as a way to link the player with the game’s narrative.

Screen shot 2014-04-17 at 8.05.26 PM

The only way you’ll finish a game is if you’re invested in it and the only way you’ll feel invested in a game is if you’re part of the story. We felt the same way about running. That’s why Smashrun has dashboards.

The only way you’ll stick with running is if you know where you stand as a runner. What’s the story behind your running? What’s the big picture? The context is important because you’re more likely to stay motivated if you know how each run stacks against each other:

You just ran your fastest 9mi run in 6 months.
This was your lowest average HR in a year.
This was the most negative splits you’ve ever run.

Gratuitous data is so frustrating sometimes because it gives fitness tracking (and fitness trackers) a bad name. I am down with Quantified Us.

We should make like players in a game and utilize what information we have to keep moving forward. Google’s Hummingbird engine got it right with its adaptive algorithm. Moov has the potential to change the wearable tech market with smart hardware. Even Garmin’s Vivofit (which I oppose on principle, because I’m not a fan of glorified pedometers) is making a difference by automatically adjusting your goals based on performance. It’s also the one thing that Nike+ did right with Kinect Training.

Why Numbers Don’t Work for Trail Runners

When I started running in 2006, I did it not because I wanted to change my lifestyle or lose weight or run races, but because I was fascinated with the idea that an accelerometer in my shoe could track my distance and pace. More importantly, that I could measure my progress without having to track anything on a spreadsheet.

I latched on to the numbers quickly. Much like any other beginner, all I cared about was increasing speed and distance. I became acquainted with multiple apps and Garmin watches.

A year later, I learned about training efficiency and I crunched even more numbers. I timed the peaks and troughs in my training volume, paid close attention to overload, and meticulously kept track of my resting HR and HR reserve. There was one summer when I ran every single race held by the NYRR.

I was quantifying everything.

Then, I moved to the south of Spain in a small town called Arcos de la Frontera. It was the first time I ran up a hill that was less than 1/3 of a mile broken into three steep sections: it starts at 29% grade, drops to 18%, and goes up to 32% just before you reach the peak. It was brutal.

Suddenly, my average pace didn’t matter as much as keeping my HR down. I also had to learn how to run on gravel. Most of the trails in Arcos are rocky and I always slipped a little whenever I sped up. It wreaked havoc on my pacing.

Trails in Arcos

Last week, I moved to Split where the trails are even greener and the hills aren’t as steep, but the course is more challenging. This is the view from Marjan Forest Park.

Marjan Forest Park

It has three peaks above sea level: Prva vidilica (125 meters), Druga vidilica (148 meters) and Treća vidilica (178 meters). Each peak has a long way and a short way of getting there. I can choose to take switchbacks, longer winding trails, steep or gradual ascents, a paved road, a dirt path, or a rocky terrain.

Split_trail1

Regardless of what I choose, I always have to slow down. Much like Arcos, tracking my pace isn’t as useful on these trails. It would only frustrate me. Paths quickly turn rugged. Big rocks mean uneven footing. Shrubs can suddenly change to cacti! Daydreaming isn’t really much of an option.

Elevation gain is also tricky. It’s only as good as the satellite reception I can get on the trail. Once GPS accuracy gets a little spotty, so does my data. There’s nothing more frustrating than relying on data to validate the effort I put in to a run. I’m better off acknowledging ahead of time that the GPS will be less than ideal.

HR is really kind of the most reliable assessment of my trail running activities. In fact, I probably benefit more from ratings of perceived exertion since a lot of what I measure on the trail is qualitative:

  • These hills are a lot of work for my quads.
  • This descent puts too much load my knees.
  • This terrain feels like work.
  • These sharp turns force me to balance more.

The metrics that I value most on the trails are different.

I care about how difficult something feels so that I know whether to run it on an easy day or a hard day. I care about the hill grade, because moderately hilly terrain is great for short bursts of speed, whereas steep hills are better for bounding drills. I care about the type of terrain, in case I’m doing a long progression run and I want to avoid a surprise ascent in the fastest part of my run.

I imagine that a pretty expensive watch with a built-in altimeter would probably sort out my need to track elevation on the trail but, is it necessary? Not really.

I think the greatest value I derive from trail running is that it keeps me on my toes. Trails are constantly changing so I have to pay closer attention to my running: my form, foot-strike, the length of my stride. It teaches me how to become a more well-rounded runner and, that’s something I can’t really get from my watch.

Now, discovering unmarked trails? My GPS watch is usually pretty good at that.

This blog is participating in the Trail Runner Blog Symposium. Join the conversation at trailrunnermag.com