Flashes of Panic

Last week, I discovered an intelligence operation possibly more impressive than the NSA: Paul Williams at the National Runner’s Health Study. I think I’ve changed address twice since I last sent data to Williams, as a twenty-something Pennsylvanian, but still he tracked me down in Medford for a follow-up survey.

I had to drag out a small stack of running logs to answer the questions, because I have not been terribly scientific about my own data collection over the last four years. The span of this follow-up survey is from 2002 (when I logged nearly 60 mpw for the whole year and ran nearly all my best times since college,) to now, and my long-term injury problems in ‘03-‘05 really put a dip in those numbers. It’s odd to look at the “best 10k and best marathon” marks next to the questions about my current training regime, about a third that which produced those 2002 times.

I was impressed with how much I did manage to run in 2003, when I looked at that log, and to see that I actually ran a few races even in 2004. It’s more and more obvious, looking back at the whole episode, how much a nagging problem in my foot even warped my mind. There’s more to be fixed than just the foot.

Most amusing part of the survey: it asks for a few data points I don’t usually track, specifically chest/waist/hips measurements. (OK, I had a pretty close guess on waist size because I’ve purchased pants recently.) I don’t have a paper or cloth tape to work with, so I used a small (six-foot) metal tape, and tried to pull it fairly tight. I expect I’ve therefore over-estimated all three numbers.

Now Playing: Play Dead from Whiplash by James