So the first step in educating the world about Plus is explaining how the system works in the first place. First though I just want to issue this declaimer - I’m not a scientist, I don’t have a mechanical engineering degree, I’ve never owned a pocket protector or a lab coat, I get this strange clicking sound in my jaw occasionally that I can’t really figure out, and in general I’m not a certified expert on any of this. But chances are I know more about it than you and the evaluation was derived from several conversations with some of the developers. So as is the nature of the internet, if anyone wants to come in and nitpick and offer their own input on how the science behind the system works I’m open to correction…
In technical mumbo-jumbo Nike+ calculates pace using a one axis piezoelectric accelerometer that measures the brief pause between heel-strike and toe-off. I’ll spare you of a scientific evaluation of how an accelerometer works – mostly because I’m not that smart, but the basic premise is similar to how a Nintendo Wii. After determining these pauses it runs the data through a series of algorithms that determines if there is X amount of time between each midstance that means the average runner has traveled Y distance.
So in normal people speak it’s basically measuring how long your foot is off the ground when you’re in stride and using a formula to figure out how far a foot that’s off the ground for that amount of time should be going.
Simple.
This is similar to a pedometer which is basically measuring how many steps you’re taking and using that as the main data point. But different in that it’s taking a more advanced method of determining stride length and foot strike to get to the numbers.
With all that said the basic measurements are still highly dependant on human input. A major portion of the equation is the stride of the “average runner”. Who is this average runner and how much like you are they? Damn fine question that I don’t have an answer to. Every runner is different – stride length, how long you’re in the “float phase”, foot strike, pace, etc., all make every runner a little different. So this “average runner” the device comes calibrated for is likely not you. Out of the box the device is calibrated for an 8 minute pace, so if you’re like me and you’re faster than that you’ll find that the feedback is slower than you’re going, if you have a shorter than average stride the device will read slower, and a dozen other variations of this basic premise.
This is why calibrating is such a big deal. Through calibration you’re able to tweak the formula to match your particular running style…
But I think that’s enough for now. I hope that was somewhat helpful. Next post I’ll go over calibration, how it’s done, and how it can be made more accurate.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Nike+: Everything you've ever wanted to know but were too lazy to ask
Working for Nike, I've been running with Nike+ pretty much every time I've laced up since it launched two years ago. I'm seriously as addicted to plus as the bum outside my apartment right now is addicted to smelling bad and speaking in barely coherent sentence fragments while drooling. He might also be on crack but who am I to speculate? But while he could probably take a shower and stay off the rock I can't even run to catch a bus without being able to log those 40 feet. It just seems wasteful to not being able to log them.
But from being in the field and around the Blogosphere I constantly hear/read the same complaints about the device not being accurate. People are constantly remarking that logs in short, or long, or slow, or fast, or it's been stealing money off the counter and eyeing their girlfriend - it's always something. Occasionally these gripes have merit - there have been glitches in the matrix along the way, and through the years I've seen and heard them all. However, for every legit complaint, there's a hundred more that are the result of improper use, or a general misunderstanding of the technology. I blame the interweb.
With that in mind I'm going to do a service to the six of you (traffic is picking up), and do a multipart series on the ins and outs of the system to help educate people on how to use it properly for the best results - the way it works, why using a shoe pocket reduces the accuracy, some known quirks that are a result of how the technology works, how to calibrate and why calibration is important, and anything else I can think of. I'm a bekon of Nike+ knowledge and I want the masses to follow me on the road towards logged mile bliss. In that way I'm a holy man.
I'm going to put some thought into the best way to go about this, so in the meantime if Laura or Chia have questions this would be a good time to ask.
Will this be the single most informative plus asset across the information superweb? Probably - so bare with me because in the following week I'll be dropping knowledge like Ma Fratelli dropped Sloth.
But from being in the field and around the Blogosphere I constantly hear/read the same complaints about the device not being accurate. People are constantly remarking that logs in short, or long, or slow, or fast, or it's been stealing money off the counter and eyeing their girlfriend - it's always something. Occasionally these gripes have merit - there have been glitches in the matrix along the way, and through the years I've seen and heard them all. However, for every legit complaint, there's a hundred more that are the result of improper use, or a general misunderstanding of the technology. I blame the interweb.
With that in mind I'm going to do a service to the six of you (traffic is picking up), and do a multipart series on the ins and outs of the system to help educate people on how to use it properly for the best results - the way it works, why using a shoe pocket reduces the accuracy, some known quirks that are a result of how the technology works, how to calibrate and why calibration is important, and anything else I can think of. I'm a bekon of Nike+ knowledge and I want the masses to follow me on the road towards logged mile bliss. In that way I'm a holy man.
I'm going to put some thought into the best way to go about this, so in the meantime if Laura or Chia have questions this would be a good time to ask.
Will this be the single most informative plus asset across the information superweb? Probably - so bare with me because in the following week I'll be dropping knowledge like Ma Fratelli dropped Sloth.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Songs to Powerize
Kind of off topic, but I’m a pretty big on running with music – which works out well considering Nike+ is a major component of my job. A statement that in itself is kind of awesome considering when most people describe components of their job they have to replace “Nike+” with “TPS reports”, or “putting numbers into boxes.” Score: me – 1, other people – 0.
Anywho, lately my unofficial Powersong has been “Ize of the World” by The Strokes. In general The Strokes make good running music, but the way “Ize of the World” kind of builds in intensity makes it a nice pick-up. By the time the song ends I’m typically in a full sprint trying to figure out why I’m on 125th and Broadway.
Until tonight I really had no idea what the song was about so I decided to check the lyrics, and surprisingly it’s more than just a cool beat. That’s it.
I think I know what you mean but watch what you say 'cause they'll be trying
to knock you down in some way. Sometimes it feels like the world is falling asleep.
How do you wake someone up from inside a dream?
Your mind would wander and search for its place in the night.
Your body followed this feeling like following light.
Once that your music was born it followed you 'round and then it gave
your activities meaning and let you be loud. You're sad but you smile.
It's not in your eyes. Your eyeballs don't change.
It's the muscles around your eyes.
An egg to fertilize,
A pulse to stabilize,
A body to deodorize,
A life to scrutinize,
A child to criticize,
Young adults
to modernize,
Citizens to terrorize,
Generations to desensitize.
Your dreams are sweet and obsessed and you're overworked.
You're overtaken by visions of being overlooked. How disappointed would
D.(ead) I.(dealistic) D.(esperate) I.(inventor) P.(ioneer) P.(hilosophers) be to see
such power in our hands all wasted on greed? Am I a prisoner to instincts
or do my thoughts just live as free and detached as boats to the dock?
Just like when music was born and detached from your heart.
Is your free time to free minds or for falling apart?
Night after night you turn out the light.
You don't fall asleep right away.
"Are we... are we done?"
A desk to organize,
A product to advertise,
A market to monopolize,
Movie stars to idolize,
Leaders to scandalize,
Enemies to neutralize,
No time to apologize,
Fury to tranquilize,
Weapons to synchronize,
Cities to vaporize.
Anywho, lately my unofficial Powersong has been “Ize of the World” by The Strokes. In general The Strokes make good running music, but the way “Ize of the World” kind of builds in intensity makes it a nice pick-up. By the time the song ends I’m typically in a full sprint trying to figure out why I’m on 125th and Broadway.
Until tonight I really had no idea what the song was about so I decided to check the lyrics, and surprisingly it’s more than just a cool beat. That’s it.
I think I know what you mean but watch what you say 'cause they'll be trying
to knock you down in some way. Sometimes it feels like the world is falling asleep.
How do you wake someone up from inside a dream?
Your mind would wander and search for its place in the night.
Your body followed this feeling like following light.
Once that your music was born it followed you 'round and then it gave
your activities meaning and let you be loud. You're sad but you smile.
It's not in your eyes. Your eyeballs don't change.
It's the muscles around your eyes.
An egg to fertilize,
A pulse to stabilize,
A body to deodorize,
A life to scrutinize,
A child to criticize,
Young adults
to modernize,
Citizens to terrorize,
Generations to desensitize.
Your dreams are sweet and obsessed and you're overworked.
You're overtaken by visions of being overlooked. How disappointed would
D.(ead) I.(dealistic) D.(esperate) I.(inventor) P.(ioneer) P.(hilosophers) be to see
such power in our hands all wasted on greed? Am I a prisoner to instincts
or do my thoughts just live as free and detached as boats to the dock?
Just like when music was born and detached from your heart.
Is your free time to free minds or for falling apart?
Night after night you turn out the light.
You don't fall asleep right away.
"Are we... are we done?"
A desk to organize,
A product to advertise,
A market to monopolize,
Movie stars to idolize,
Leaders to scandalize,
Enemies to neutralize,
No time to apologize,
Fury to tranquilize,
Weapons to synchronize,
Cities to vaporize.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Why I'm a Runner
I've read on a couple different blogs lately that have either tried to define what a runner is, or why someone runs. It's apparently a very common question on runners' mind's this summer. It struck me as interesting when my girl Laura from Absolutly Fit dropped 27.5 miles then posed the question, "At what point do you define yourself as a runner?" I've run with Laura and never would have questioned whether she was a runner or not - she is. But it raises an interesting point...
I mean I can throw a bunch of finger paint on a canvas but that doesn't make me an artist. Or chuck some fruit in a pie crust without deserving the title of baker. Or tackle a European tourist in the middle of 8th Ave and no one is going to buy that I'm an international rugby sensation - especially not the police or the district attorney who don't have a sense of humor when it comes to some German named Gunter sprawled out unconscious in front of Ben and Jerry's. Point is there is some merit in not only doing something, but doing it well. Doing it with style and a certain level of skill. So with that in mind I can see why someone rocking a 10 minute pace would have apprehension about defining them self as a runner.
It actually goes to a long-standing belief I have that while there's more people entering races, and buying shoes, and clogging up the lower loop in Central Park with zero understanding of the etiquette of the road - running as a sport is actually in a state of decline. While it's getting tougher to get into the NYC Marathon with 200,000 people clamoring for 45,000 spots, too many of the people waiting at Fort Wadsworth on November 2nd will be completely under trained and walking by mile 7. The problem is there's too much emphasis on just finishing rather than finishing to the best of ones ability. More people who are content just to cross the line, but don't put in the sacrifices to make it there. More people who think their $120 shoes, and $40 DriFit shirts, and $15 socks, (which are by the way the best waste of $15 you can ever make,) mean that they're runners.
Many/most probably are, but I disagree that just entering the race or even finishing makes you a runner, and it's actually not about speed.
The thing that separates "real" runners from the dude that will be walking down Bedford Ave with an ear to ear grin even though he went out at an 8 minute pace and is blazed by mile 10, is the sacrifices the "runners" will be making in the three months before they're toeing the starting line. It's the 6AM runs, and getting out the door in the rain, and snow, and 94 degree weather. It's the long runs, and bloody nipples, and speed work, and blisters. It's the commitment to putting in the pain it takes to become better, and continuing to strive for it.
But more than anything I think a runner is defined by our ability to overcome our own self imposed limitations, dig down into the dark recesses of our own wills, and gut it out despite the fact that there's nothing left. You become a runner the first time you push through a long run even though you want to quit, or PR despite the fact you don't really have it that day, or just go out and push yourself on a random Wednesday night faster or further than you've gone before. It's addictive, and fulfilling, and no matter how fast or slow you're moving it's a euphoria that you can get at any pace.
So when can you define yourself as a runner? It's a personal thing, but the good part is that you get a chance to answer the question every time you lace up.
As the most interesting man in the world would say: "Stay thirsty my friends."
I mean I can throw a bunch of finger paint on a canvas but that doesn't make me an artist. Or chuck some fruit in a pie crust without deserving the title of baker. Or tackle a European tourist in the middle of 8th Ave and no one is going to buy that I'm an international rugby sensation - especially not the police or the district attorney who don't have a sense of humor when it comes to some German named Gunter sprawled out unconscious in front of Ben and Jerry's. Point is there is some merit in not only doing something, but doing it well. Doing it with style and a certain level of skill. So with that in mind I can see why someone rocking a 10 minute pace would have apprehension about defining them self as a runner.
It actually goes to a long-standing belief I have that while there's more people entering races, and buying shoes, and clogging up the lower loop in Central Park with zero understanding of the etiquette of the road - running as a sport is actually in a state of decline. While it's getting tougher to get into the NYC Marathon with 200,000 people clamoring for 45,000 spots, too many of the people waiting at Fort Wadsworth on November 2nd will be completely under trained and walking by mile 7. The problem is there's too much emphasis on just finishing rather than finishing to the best of ones ability. More people who are content just to cross the line, but don't put in the sacrifices to make it there. More people who think their $120 shoes, and $40 DriFit shirts, and $15 socks, (which are by the way the best waste of $15 you can ever make,) mean that they're runners.
Many/most probably are, but I disagree that just entering the race or even finishing makes you a runner, and it's actually not about speed.
The thing that separates "real" runners from the dude that will be walking down Bedford Ave with an ear to ear grin even though he went out at an 8 minute pace and is blazed by mile 10, is the sacrifices the "runners" will be making in the three months before they're toeing the starting line. It's the 6AM runs, and getting out the door in the rain, and snow, and 94 degree weather. It's the long runs, and bloody nipples, and speed work, and blisters. It's the commitment to putting in the pain it takes to become better, and continuing to strive for it.
But more than anything I think a runner is defined by our ability to overcome our own self imposed limitations, dig down into the dark recesses of our own wills, and gut it out despite the fact that there's nothing left. You become a runner the first time you push through a long run even though you want to quit, or PR despite the fact you don't really have it that day, or just go out and push yourself on a random Wednesday night faster or further than you've gone before. It's addictive, and fulfilling, and no matter how fast or slow you're moving it's a euphoria that you can get at any pace.
So when can you define yourself as a runner? It's a personal thing, but the good part is that you get a chance to answer the question every time you lace up.
As the most interesting man in the world would say: "Stay thirsty my friends."
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Runvertising
Moving off the last post I started getting into the running ads that I really dig. I crafted a longer post explaining why I find these to be so appealing, but I’ll leave it at this: The ads I found to be authentically runnery have a level of quirk to them that borders on dorky. But that makes complete sense considering runners are inherently dorky. Not in a negative way at all, and I actually think most of us have a sense of pride in the amount of dork we throw into the craft. It’s probably not the only way to touch a chord in the kind of person who finds abusing themselves for 26 miles a good time, but it certainly isn’t a bad one. Here, in no particular order, is what strikes me. Enjoy.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Feed the Warrior
Say what you will about Mr. Armstrong but you gotta respect a man who survived brain, lung, and testicular cancer and then had a guest spot in Dodgeball. But moreso you have to love his Dick's Sporting Goods commercials. Totally love them.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Running Epiphany
In the movie Big Lebowski philosopher, woodsman, and all around hardcore dude Sam Elliot tells the Dude, "Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes, well, he eats you." Of course in the movie this sounds more like "bar" which would also make a lot of sense because I've certainly encountered and been drunk under several of these man-eating bars - and trust me, one day the streets will run red with their blood.
But this example serves to prove my long held notion that cowboys were the warrior poets of the Wild West - drinking whiskey, chasing banditos, dispensing well timed advice - occasionally mouth kissing one another. But despite their tendency towards homoeroticism, cowboys are like hundredteen times more philosophically adept than equally awesome archetypal characters like ninja warriors, old Indian chiefs, and the real big Viking with the super sweet horn hat on. This is one of those undebateable facts of life.
Cowboys, however, aren't really the point here. The point is that sometimes life is a peachy bowl of happy happiness, and other times you lock your keys in the car while it's running and it's raining outside, and your cell phone is dead, and you're in rural Georgia and you start hearing banjos. This can occasionally be the kind of moment that leads to this kind of reaction. Or something slightly less dramatic depending on how you roll.
So on a particularly shitastic day this week I decided to drop everything and split for a mid-day run. I mean the dude in the video had already stolen my thunder so I didn't have a choice. In a very sadomasochistic way figured I’d find clarity through pain. Kind of like a Native American vision quest without the peyote or sleep depervation.
I ran up 8th Ave and turned east through the lower section of the park, charging Cat Hill, flying past the Rez, passing the skating rink on the north side of the park at a break-neck pace – and coming up on Harlem Hill it dawns on me... I'm completely spent. Like in that totally done kind of spent way where I just wanted a sandwich and a nap. I had my Metro Card so I could have turned off and grabbed the A train at any point, but that’s just not the runner’s mentality. For me the whole reason I run is to find myself at those junctures and getting the satisfaction that I pushed through it. So I spent the next four miles playing the, “If I make it to that tree I’ll stop. If I get to that bush I’ll stop, if I…” game.
I obviously didn't stop - uh, obvi - who blogs about that time they were a quiter? But by the time I rolled back to my apt 40 something minutes and 8 miles later it all kind of clicked.
In life and running you hit the points where it’s easy to grab the A train. Turn off. Stop. But success at both is all about being able to grin and bare it through the tough parts and recognize that without the bitter the sweet’s not as sweet.
Typically all I get from running is increased cardiovascular fitness and well toned legs, so to find enlightenment too was a nice bonus. And all without having to maim anyone with a computer monitor.
But this example serves to prove my long held notion that cowboys were the warrior poets of the Wild West - drinking whiskey, chasing banditos, dispensing well timed advice - occasionally mouth kissing one another. But despite their tendency towards homoeroticism, cowboys are like hundredteen times more philosophically adept than equally awesome archetypal characters like ninja warriors, old Indian chiefs, and the real big Viking with the super sweet horn hat on. This is one of those undebateable facts of life.
Cowboys, however, aren't really the point here. The point is that sometimes life is a peachy bowl of happy happiness, and other times you lock your keys in the car while it's running and it's raining outside, and your cell phone is dead, and you're in rural Georgia and you start hearing banjos. This can occasionally be the kind of moment that leads to this kind of reaction. Or something slightly less dramatic depending on how you roll.
So on a particularly shitastic day this week I decided to drop everything and split for a mid-day run. I mean the dude in the video had already stolen my thunder so I didn't have a choice. In a very sadomasochistic way figured I’d find clarity through pain. Kind of like a Native American vision quest without the peyote or sleep depervation.
I ran up 8th Ave and turned east through the lower section of the park, charging Cat Hill, flying past the Rez, passing the skating rink on the north side of the park at a break-neck pace – and coming up on Harlem Hill it dawns on me... I'm completely spent. Like in that totally done kind of spent way where I just wanted a sandwich and a nap. I had my Metro Card so I could have turned off and grabbed the A train at any point, but that’s just not the runner’s mentality. For me the whole reason I run is to find myself at those junctures and getting the satisfaction that I pushed through it. So I spent the next four miles playing the, “If I make it to that tree I’ll stop. If I get to that bush I’ll stop, if I…” game.
I obviously didn't stop - uh, obvi - who blogs about that time they were a quiter? But by the time I rolled back to my apt 40 something minutes and 8 miles later it all kind of clicked.
In life and running you hit the points where it’s easy to grab the A train. Turn off. Stop. But success at both is all about being able to grin and bare it through the tough parts and recognize that without the bitter the sweet’s not as sweet.
Typically all I get from running is increased cardiovascular fitness and well toned legs, so to find enlightenment too was a nice bonus. And all without having to maim anyone with a computer monitor.
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