Virtual races as diminished reality

For foot races, 2020 was a year that wasn't. The tentative postponements of races in the early months of the pandemic eventually gave way to wholesale cancellations, with just a few exceptions for bubble-enclosed elite-only races, limited-registration local races, and some trail races. Plus a few that sneaked through just before the initial shutdown around mid-March, e.g., LA Marathon (6-foot separation during a marathon? Haha), and before the deadliness of the coronavirus became evident.

Even going out for a morning run became problematic in the early days, as different jurisdictions placed various constraints on how far one could go from home. But, a runner gotta run! In fact, running is a natural go-to activity during a pandemic (outdoors, relatively easy to socially distance), as are most other outdoor activities (see 2020 Year in Sport as tracked by Strava).

Creativity is born of necessity, and pandemic constraints sparked the creativity of runners. In the early weeks, many laps were run through houses and apartments. In my case, a "lap" through the house, including two flights of stairs up and down, took about 90 seconds and 200 steps. A 10-lap, 15-minute break couple times during the day did wonders! As time went on, popular alternatives to cancelled races included the Quarantine Backyard Ultra in April; various Fastest Known Time (FKT) attempts (whether supported, self-supported, or unsupported); and races that perhaps could use more support (?).

More artistic are the Strava Art (or GPS Art) creations. Strava Art has been around for years, but it became a useful outlet for expression during 2020. For something new, I started RunMyMindMap, a harder version of “GPS Art.” Here's one I created a few weeks after the 50th anniversary of Earth Day.

Many of the cancelled races offered a virtual replacement, in lieu of deferment to 2021, refund, or donation. Some of my already-registered races became donations. For two half marathons, I chose the virtual option: MCRRC's Parks Half and Walnut Creek Half. I run the latter each year, when I'm in San Francisco for the AGU Fall Meeting, which was also virtual in 2020. Virtual races still come with bibs, swag, and finisher medals. Results of virtual races, though, have a different meaning than those of real races, given that everyone runs a different course.

Though they still felt good to run, virtual races are not the same, of course, as real races. My finishing times for the two virtual races were 10-15 minutes slower than my recent half marathon times. The pace was about the same as, or a bit slower than, that for my 2019 Harrisburg Marathon. I think the biggest factor for the slower times was the lower training mileage, especially during the early months of the pandemic. But also a significant factor was the lack of race conditions in what were basically time trials. Virtual races are more than virtual reality; but the reality is of a diminished kind.

Still, some of the mental aspects of a real race are still present for a virtual race. For example, just having a date (range) for completion and a registration/payment, i.e., an accountability with someone/some organization, make a difference in training. And, sometimes, some of the competitive elements of a real race can also exist. In addition to the two virtual half marathons, I also ran the virtual "Fun Runs" organized by the NASA Goddard Running and Orienteering Club (2-mile and 10K). For the Fall 10K Fun Run, during a good part of Mile 6, there was a guy running on the other side of the road going in the same direction. We ended up sort of racing each other, without acknowledging it, and my pace was 30-40 seconds faster than that of the previous miles. Race conditions matter!

Sure looking forward to some real races later this year!

Tempo, broken tempo, and mental tempo

For me, a useful definition of "tempo pace" is that at which I could sustain for 3-5 miles but would really like to slow down. My typical workout: 2 miles warm-up, 3-5 miles tempo pace, 1-2 miles cool-down. The tempo part is run either at the local high school track or on the road, at a current pace of about 8:00-8:30/mile.

During the early weeks and months of the pandemic, the uncertainty of what's out there constrained my training runs to laps through the house or around the lot. When I finally ventured out to run, I had lost some fitness. So, to ease back into training, I began running what I call the "broken tempo," i.e., breaking each mile into a tempo part and a slower recovery part. I began with 0.5 mile tempo/0.5 mile slow and incremented 0.05 mile every couple weeks or so, sometimes with variations, e.g., first two miles at 0.6/0.4, third mile at 0.65/0.35. Over several months, I was back to regular tempo runs of 3 miles. (In writing this post, I came across this informative article on tempo runs and found that "broken tempo" is an actually used term!)

This process of easing back into training revealed some interesting mental aspects of tempo running ("mental tempo"!). For example, for a broken tempo of 0.8/0.2, towards the end of the 0.8, I was feeling the effort. Yet, after I got back to 3-mile tempo runs, knowing that there are no slow-run segments, those first 0.8-mile's felt easier, not needing as much effort. This I find generally to be the case, i.e., once "committed," the perceived effort seems lower. Once I've committed to the full 3 miles, the 0.8-mile mark of each mile lost its significance; I just ran right past it. I stayed at 3 miles for several weeks. Then, one morning, in the midst of a 3-mile tempo run, I decided to extend it to 3.5 miles. Once decided--mentally committed--that additional 0.5 mile also seemed not that hard. The perception of effort decreased. I'm currently at 4 miles for tempo runs and will be at 5 miles in another month or so.