In which I stop counting kilometres and start counting my blessings (steps)

I was out of town yesterday and couldn’t run, so I did the radical thing and took a full day off. It was meant to be today’s rest day, but life rearranged the furniture — Saturday became the rest, and I ran today instead. No guilt either way. One swapped day across eleven months of training is a rounding error, and I’m learning that the plan survives real life getting in the way.

Then this afternoon I quietly did my longest run yet: 7.44 kilometres. Easy run-walk, a small extension on the distance exactly as the plan called for, and — the important bit — it did not feel hard or challenging at all. I could have kept going. I didn’t, because we’ve been through that, but the tank had more in it. The ladder toward 10 km is working.

And now for an official announcement.

After the great three-device investigation of last week — in which my phone apps were caught red-handed deleting my walks — I have made an executive decision about how I measure my running. I am, as of today, in my step-counting era.

Here is my reasoning, and I want it on the record so it can be used against me later.

The steps, across every device, always agree. They are honest, reliable, and unbothered by GPS, tree cover, or apps having an existential crisis mid-run. So steps are the truth. Fine.

But — and this is the crucial part — my watch may also be gently exaggerating my distances. It might be turning my honest 5.5 into a flattering 6.1. And do you know what? I’ve decided I don’t want to know. If my watch wishes to hand me a small, daily, unearned ego boost by inflating my kilometres, who am I to refuse a gift? Some men need affirmations. I have a budget smartwatch with generous mathematics.

So: I will count my steps, because they’re real. And I will glance at my kilometres, because they make me feel like an athlete. This is a perfectly stable and mature relationship with my own data and I will not be taking questions.

(A parkrun will eventually spoil the fun by telling me the truth. But that’s a problem for a future, more courageous version of me. Today’s version ran 7.44 flattering kilometres, felt great, and is choosing joy.)