Aha! A keyboard I can both see and use easily. Marvellous. Wonder if it will assist the blog content?
Well, the day started nicely with presents a plenty, and after 3 hours I was itching to get out for my “it’s in the training programme so i’m going to do it” 3 miles. 3 hours had the bonus effect of allowing my new Garmin 405 to charge and be played with and set up and worry about how long it’s going to take to get my computer prepared so everything’s easy and that. But it’s great, attractive, light and everything i’d wish for in a ruunning tool. And together with a new running top, I was so keen to talk Cathy into coming, she actually did. Despite having chocolate and champagne and stuff to eat and drink. Still, it’s nice to get out!
So, a comparison with a 305 was had, and i’ll be updating on the performance and stuff when I get a proper chance to work out how everything works. For now, my 405 appears to be fine on the wrist, doesn’t hint it might get in the way, works quickly and efficiently and has lots of bits to play with. I let the side down,however, in the fashion stakes with my dodgy shorts and desire to wear a tramp inspired old sweater over my spangly new top, with my too-new-but-they’ve-got-to-get-old-sometime “race” pair of trainers being used since my others are still at work. I looked a right state. Which i’m hoping went some way to explaining why of all the people we saw over the marshes, not one hinted at a morning comment, not one Merry Christmas, nothing. Silence.
Sociable bunch, these East Londoners.
So, no software inspired running logs, i’m afraid, just a report of 3 miles at 10.28 pace as an initiation into the wearing of Garmin logging power. I’ll set up the virtual partner if I can work it out for Saturday’s run and see how it goes. Failing that, i’ll just run against the screen and see if I can keep to about 8.15 minute miles that way. Yep, Saturday is supposed to be a pace run, which’ll be nice.
Oh, and after failing to manage the mince pie at Cathy’s in silence, I then failed to eat two more in silence at Mum and Dad’s, but I reckon 3 mince pies in two houses is fine by me.
Man, I feel fat!