13.1 ways of looking at a half marathon

A Pittsburgh Half Marathon race report, with apologies to Wallace Stevens. 

1. In media res

Between the 2:10 and the 2:15 pacers, sometime between the elite start and the start of my very mortal Corral C wave, it begins to drizzle.
The first worry is: not enough calories. I am shifting from foot to foot, trying to stay warm in t-shirt and shorts. I've been vertical since 5.45am - one and a half hours - and awake since 4.45. Should've finished my second packet of instant oatmeal. Should've finished my coffee. Should've brought a bagel or Honey Stinger waffle to the start. Shouldn't have walked two miles to the start line. At least I have 20,000 new friends around me. We're all keeping each other warm with nervous energy.

2. Begin at the beginning

The starting gun pops. 30,000 people are running today, including full marathoners, marathon relayers, and half marathoners. It's crowded, wet, slippery unknown streets; I don't want to dodge. Instead I play games for a few miles: find someone wearing yellow and black, chase them down; find someone in red, follow them. I soon warm up.
"This is a lot of trouble to go to for a free banana," I hear someone say, as I pass.

3. It's mostly about me, but also about you

A lot of questions pass through one's head during a longish race. Questions like: Why do I run? and, as it rains harder, What possessed me to wear underpants?
The answer to the first is It wouldn't be fun if it wasn't challenging. The Tarahumara Indians consider running a game, jugando. I feel like I run in that ludic spirit.
As for the second, call me agnostic, but it is possible to be on the fence about underpants/ no underpants.
This is an excellent city race. The spectator support is huge. The Gatorade and water stands are hyper-efficient. The volunteers are on point. The bands are ear-splittingly encouraging.
At least one unofficial support station (run by hashers, of course) somewhere around mile 7 or 8 offers beer. It's Natty Light. I don't care how hydrating it is, I did not run 13.1 miles for Natty Light.
Pittsburgh is a fine city for a foodie, with beer and brunch at decidedly un-coastal price points. The night before, we carbo-load with face-sized sandwiches, stuffed full of fries. Later, we have a croque-madame and a bison-burger and a chocolate stout and a mango-salsa burrito and a chicken tikka rice bowl.
I do not take the Natty Light.

4. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it 

A quarter done already. (I can't say 'without thinking about it'. I've been thinking about it since before I even started.) I eat my first shot block.
Miles 3-6 contain three bridges. Look at this elevation map of the half marathon course.

If you also look at my Garmin, you can kind of infer where the bridges are. Mile 11-12 contains HILLS and is my slowest mile (10:44). Actually, just one hill. It's embarrassingly small, too. The tricky part was not knowing exactly where the hill was going to end - more proof that it really is a mental game.

5.

It takes a mile and a half to finish a single shot block, as I am incapable of running and chewing at the same time. This, coupled with trying to drink while running and also not choke on half-masticated shot block bits, keeps me occupied for many happy miles.
I like thinking about race distances in miles; that there are fewer of them than kilometres seems to help them tick by faster.

6.

Mile 6 is a no-man's-land in which I largely blank out and keep putting one foot in front of the other. The thought dominating my head is 'Oh no, not another bridge.'
This race is not for the acrophobic.

7. A change of pace

More than halfway done! Ok, time to pick up the pace.
I attempt to pick up the pace.
My splits do not reflect my experienced reality. If a mile feels harder than you've actually run it, have you run it?
I see the 2:05 pace sign bobbing in the distance. I started so far behind them, I never even saw them for the first mile. I try to catch them repeatedly for the next six miles, and fail.

"Now we only have to hold this pace for an hour more," remarks a nearby runner to her friend.
"If you ran faster you wouldn't have to hold the pace so long," the friend replies.
"Whoa, good point."

8. Give me a sign...or else forget about it 

Chafing The Game
Toenails Are For Losers
Hey Eric, If You Think Running 13.1 Miles Is Hard...Try Waiting For You!
If Trump Can Run 4 President, You Can Run 13.1
Go Random Stranger (same people, same sign, seen twice)

9. Tick tock 

I flirted with the idea of running Garminless.
I did not run Garminless.
The half marathon is a distance where I feel like I have some room for improvement - but not much. Like, I'm not going to be chopping 15 minutes off my time anytime soon. So every minute counts. I run well aware of the beeps, and well aware of my effort, but take no steps to link the two by actually looking at the darn watch face until about mile 8. When I do look I discover that if I run 10:00 miles the rest of the way I will PR. This thought magically transports me up the next bridge.

10. Goodbye, separation anxiety

I run faster, because I ran down this way to get to the start and I know the terrain. Also, I really want to see my No. 1 Fan Club on the course. They're standing around at mile 10. I run over, kiss both of them, and dart off. According to the husband, baby bear howls for ten minutes after I vanish. Knowing this exact thing would happen, I run faster to finish sooner and get back to them. When I finish, little bear is asleep and snoozes in the carrier until I find them, whereupon he wakes up and grumbles till we get back to the apartment.

11. Oh, baby! 

Spectating is hard work. After we get home from lunch, little bear hibernates for two and a half hours. It's like he ran the half marathon instead of me. I briefly consider running a half every weekend so he'll nap.

12. I think I can, I think I can 

I'm giving it everything I have. My calves are starting to burn. What goes up must come down, right?
I think about Amy, whose virtual training partnership has been invaluable. I don't think I could have done this without her. There's a lot to be said for cheering each other on and being each other's reality check and commiserating about the joys of training while working/ living/ parenting. She's only halfway, and I wonder how she's doing on those full-marathon hills.

13. Lessons

I finish in 2:06. So, no 2:00. I knew that was a stretch goal going in. But 2:06 is a respectable five-minute PR on patchy training and a rolling course. Not bad for my first half marathon in almost two years.
Post-race resolutions are like New Year's resolutions. More strength work, glutes and core, will power me up hills and stave off cramps. Shoulda done a 14-mile long run at least once, instead of the 10s and 12s.
The challenge is putting the resolutions into practice. How to make myself get to the gym for strength work? How do I do speedwork alone? How badly do I really want it? Tell me how you do it.

0.1. Unique selling point

A good marketing slogan can be absurdly effective, people. In the near-bronchiospasm conditions of a sprint into the finish, one thing pops into my head over and over: 'I will what I want (and I want my PR)'.
Coming into the last half-mile I legit have tears in my eyes and am starting to have trouble breathing, knowing I'm going to PR - and more importantly, knowing I gave it my best effort today.

As I wobble through the exit chute, I give myself an extra free banana.

Now entering terra incognita

I hear visualisation is a great tool for athletes, so here's a short but totally realistic daydream:

"What do I WEARRRRR," she wailed, sitting on the floor clutching handfuls of quick-dry polyester and nylon. It was a moment of indecision unrivalled by any date night or job interview. Each time she glanced at the weather forecast the numbers and cloud cover icons seemed to shift - or was the scene swimming through tears? She settled on one outfit, with a backup for colder weather.

That night, her son woke up just twice and went right back to sleep straight away. At 5am, she stumbled to the AirBnB kitchen to gnaw on a cold bagel and rummage through the cabinet for something caffeinated. A warmup jog took her the mile and a half to the subway, and she emerged next to her race corral and got in line behind only two people for a clean porta-potty.

For once she refrained from starting too fast, despite the icy tickle of worry - every time! - that her legs would lock on to the pace and manage nothing more than snail-paced miles the rest of the way. As the course wound through the streets of Pittsburgh, she was entertained by a BLURP from a horn here, the crash of a steel-drum there, and for the final mile, an entire acappella chorus singing 'Rolling In The Deep'. 

The race plan went perfectly: slow for the first half, medium for the next quarter, and speeding up to outkick people at the end. She thought of it as Goldilocks pacing - not too slow, not too fast, just right...And with her finish time, she qualified for the Singapore Olympic Trials*. Best of all, the race photographers managed to snap photos of her between Shot Bloks. 

* There are no Singapore Olympic Trials for the marathon.

In three days I'll be running the Pittsburgh Half Marathon, entering completely new territory for me.

- First half marathon for which I explicitly trained, or at least had a mental training plan tucked into one of the dusty drawers in my head. 

- Instant postpartum half-marathon PR. (My silly Type-A self is a little gleeful about this one, not gonna lie.) 

- I've never been to Pittsburgh (PGH native Amy is doing the full marathon and we have plans to meet up for all the food - YUM). 

- This will be my first half marathon in the US. (!)

- The weather forecast changes every time I blink. 

I'll be honest - I hit about 40% of that training plan and 60% was a trainwreck (I haven't done any speedwork or weights in weeks). My primary goal is to give it my best shot, finish happy in about two hours, based on long-run paces, and not blow up. My old half PR is 2:11 and dates back to 2012 because I just haven't run a whole lot of halfs, so I have no clue what to expect. 

I'm seriously flirting with the idea of running sans watch, to get that competitive goal-oriented monkey off my back. Part of me thinks that's radical; the other part of me thinks that's radically daft, to pay good money for a half marathon and then not check the time - what?! Plus I want to know my splits. Plus I neeeeeed my watch in order to be on time to the race start. Argh. 

Race report: Marina Run

I'd done this fairly no-frills evening half marathon in 2011, and DNFed due to stomach trouble. But I trust my friends' race recommendations, and Adrienne had had a good time at this one. So I signed up...and then she wasn't able to make it on race day thanks to a janky foot. Here's to sensible life decisions: rest today to run again another day!

I am not good at sensible life decisions.

Hang in there guys, it's going to be a longish one.

Race pack collection: Packet pickup was a breeze - in, out, done in 2 minutes on a Sunday afternoon. Bonus points for offering same-day packet pickup for runners visiting from overseas!
This race also had 10K and 5K fun run options.

The race pack: I don't really notice what's in the race pack so long as I get a bib and a shirt and a finisher medal at the end, but I know some of my readers do. This race pack was pretty dismal (at least for Singapore and for a run that I paid $50!! for): a bunch of flyers, including one for car servicing and one for air-conditioner servicing, and duplicate flyers for children's soccer birthday parties and gym lessons and watches.
There was one coupon for a massage, WHICH YOU BET YOUR ASS I am going to use, and one for an either-or spa deal: a facial or a 'slimming wrap', neither of which I really want, especially because the latter sounds like a poorly filled burrito.

Race site: The race site at Gardens by the Bay East is convenient only if you live at one of the Tanjong Rhu condos. Otherwise, it's about 1km from the nearest MRT station (Stadium). Walking about 1+km to and from the nearest MRT station is not a huge deal for me, but if this was my first half marathon, it might have been somewhat upsetting, I guess.

I went down with my neighbours Aicha and Peter, who were also running and supposed to meet their friend at the medical tent to give her a race pack. Turns out the medical tent was definitely not where it was supposed to be on the map. Thumbs down.

Baggage deposit and pick-up: When we got there, the bulk of the 10K runners were just finishing, and there was a  horrifyingly long queue for baggage pickup. There were definitely not enough people manning the baggage pick-up booth, probably because some of them were handling half-marathon bag drop. Apparently some of the 10K runners waited in line for half an hour, ABSOLUTELY the last thing one wants to do after running 10K, thank you very much.

Fortunately when I finished, the queue for medal, apple, and water was fast, and I made a beeline for bag check. The queue for baggage...well, I probably stood in line for maybe 5 to 10 minutes.

By the way, race organisers: you know what would be really nice? Just hand us a little prepacked box of food so that we don't have to juggle apple and medal and banana and water etc etc, because ain't nobody got enough hands for that nonsense. One more thing - it would also be nice to have more water at the finish area instead of only at the finish chute.

The route: Two loops of out-and-backs, not particularly exciting, but quite pretty because you go around Marina Bay and a little way up the Kallang River and you get to see everything lit up at night. Not bad!

And now...*drumroll*...The run: 
So after a terrible week at work, I promised myself I would do this as a long run, a kind of reward for making it through the week. Of course I was very bad and didn't keep that promise - more on which later.

There were about a thousand half marathoners, which is really, really small for Singapore! It was crowded for the first couple of km or so, but not too bad after I'd sorted myself out. (I tend to try to get out of the crowds right at the start, but this often spells trouble - here's why.) Later edit: I forgot to count the veteran half marathoners! That means there were about 1,500-1,800. Sorry. Still really really small for Singapore, though.  

I could feel myself going too fast right at the beginning, and was desperately trying to slow down, but my legs seemed to be beyond my control. The angel on one shoulder said: "What are you doing? Stop passing people and rein it in now or else you'll die later." The demon on the other shoulder said: "But you feel fine *now*." In the end my shoulders were inexplicably sore so they must have been slugging it out pretty hard.

So what did I do? Of course I went out too hard for the first 11 or 12km. (What? Nothing hurt. Yet.) There was another woman on my shoulder and we kept trading places; I could hear her breathing quite hard next to me, which was quite distracting; I know she couldn't hear whether I was breathing hard because she had headphones in!

Somewhere around 14km I began to regret my initial burst of speed because I suddenly felt like my legs were made of lead. I kept thinking 'just keep running, just keep running'... My pace definitely dropped a bit here, and at this point I just slowed down to relax and enjoy the night air. The woman with the headphones overtook me and all I could do was glare at her back.

On my second loop, one of the drink stations ran out of water and was apologising: "Sorry, we only have isotonic drink left" - a nasty purple, grapey-smelling stuff. From the way it smelt I half expected it to glow. You had better not run out of water, especially when I'm in the middle of the pack and I know there are plenty of people coming along after me. (A note: When I first started doing half marathons I was so slow that some of the drink stations really did run out of water. So now I always, always, always carry my own for any race over 10K.)

At the 18k mark I somehow summoned enough energy to hammer (ok, only in my dreams; in reality I'm quite sure I looked like a spastic rhinoceros) the last couple of k's home.

I finished in about 2:15, which is where most of my half marathons seem to be these days, and with no ill effects but a pair of sore feet. My half times remind me of my 10K times, which were stuck firmly at 1 hour++ for a very long time until an abrupt and totally surprising breakthrough a couple of years ago. So maybe there's a half breakthrough in the offing somewhere within this lifetime!

My team-mate Claire who ran it as well said the course was a bit long; I still don't own a GPS watch so I'm just going to believe her.

After cooling off I found myself totally encrusted in salt - gross. Good thing I packed and ate my good old shot blocks throughout or there would have been blood. I mean cramps.

At the finish line, Jimmy found me and we set off for food and home. By now it was 10pm and NOW I was famished, so we popped into Burger King. Sometimes you just need a large iced Milo after a race. And sometimes you need a large iced Milo and a nap; I nearly passed out.

The verdict: You all know I really have only two key criteria for a race: Does it start on time? (yes) and Is it the right distance? (no) -- I'd give this one a grade B. Maybe some extra marks for scenery and a relatively thin crowd.

Anyway, I think I've learnt my lesson. The real test is the Run350 half in April, a race for which I actually have goals. You know, like goal number one: don't...start...too...fast. One day I'll be sensible.

I also think I need to do a couple of things in training:
- One, a long run or two with 7 or 8 tempo km in the latter half. Or some sort of progression long run in which I start slooow (an important lesson in reining it in) and work up to finish off at 10K pace.
- Two, aside from one angel and one demon sitting on my shoulders (those guys need to lose some weight), in all seriousness why are my shoulders sore? I have to figure out what to do to fix that.

An update: Results are out. Discovered my team-mate Claire was FIRST - well done her!

What are these mystery 'lap 1/ lap 2' points - what distances are those anyway? 3km? 4.2km? 5km? 10??? Annoying. Race organisers, please don't do this.

Epilogue: Cheer report, Metasprint Aquathlon

I had somewhat ambitious and extremely optimistic plans for Sunday morning: do a recovery run around Sentosa and cheer friends on in the Metasprint Aquathlon there. But we got home at 11.30pm, and by the time I showered and got into bed it was midnight.

Naturally, my body had other plans. I woke up at 8am, but Shirlene's wave was at 8.35 - not going to make it on time for the start, could I get there on time for the finish?

I got there at 9.15 - eek! - and thought I'd missed her, so I wandered around looking for her ('maybe she's cheering her husband out of the water?')...and missed her coming through the finish. When I turned around again she was standing there (sweaty hugs!) and we cheered Eugene and his friend Aylwin in. Those two are not only very competitive with each other, they're also training for a half-Ironman in May, so after Eugene and Shirlene got home...he turned around and went out to run for an hour. I have no idea how people do it. Training to run takes up enough of my time.

What are your best ideas for 70.3 cheer signs? I suggested Shirlene stand at T1 with a sign that read 'ONLY TWO MORE SPORTS TO GO'. ("Trolls," said Eugene, shooting us a dirty look.)

The Great Eastern Women's Run - a race report

No matter what you think about women's-only races, the Great Eastern Women's Run is the best-organised road run in Singapore.

This year they really hit out of the ballpark. First of all, because the organiser Great Eastern Life is an insurance company...all the runners are covered during the race. There are massages and loads of food at the finish, and even a little clean-up station with wet wipes and deodorant and a mirror to check your hair (AFTER the race, when it totally makes sense, not before.)

And I love the way Great Eastern focuses on family/ friends/ fun rather than the kind of shape one is in. No tone-deaf fitspo here.

No, they aren't paying me to say this. I don't even have any insurance plans with them.

Thanks to some work trips, some crazy workweeks, and some decline of motivation (ahem) after hitting my marathon PR goal for the year, I was definitely undertrained going into this half marathon. Tempo runs? What tempo runs?

I had a half-hearted notion of PRing, as last year's time was about 2:11 while trying to ward off cramps. My plan was to go 6 minutes per km for the first 16km and, if I felt so inclined, to push harder for the last 5.

Long story short - I did not feel so inclined.

The loop-the-loop route involved running up and over Nicoll Highway...twice. And here is my biggest complaint about this race: when I tried doing lap splits on my watch at every kilometre marker, the first 8 'kilometres' took me 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 8 minutes (?), 3:40 (??), 7 minutes (???), 4 minutes(?!?!?), 6 minutes (phew, finally, a real kilometre), and 8 minutes (sorry, WTF? I know this works out to 6 min/km, but those markers are ridiculous.) And then I pulled the plug on the splits; they were getting too confusing. Dear Santa, can I have a GPS watch this year?

At about 13km the wheels fell off my 6min/km effort and I slowed down quite a bit (but sped up for the Holly-cheering point), staggering into the finish with a 2:14:34 gun time. Seriously, my legs didn't feel like moving that day. And I was h u n g r y. STARVING. I felt like I could have eaten an entire pizza on the run. I spent 5 km thinking about food. Hey, it was a nice distraction. Truly. One of my running mottoes is "There's chwee kuay at the end."

Oddly, despite all the food at the end, I didn't feel like actually putting any in my mouth, so I squirrelled an apple away for later.

I'm not terribly disappointed because the weather was terrific and I was having so much fun. My friend C completed her first half marathon (!!!!! this girl is going on to great things and I'm pretty sure she's addicted to running now) and S and A ran all the way without stopping to walk, and I'm incredibly proud of them.

And I even found my race pix. Not too unglam or shapeless for these photographers! Here you go.

I WILL NOT SMILE BECAUSE I'M TOO HUNGRY FOR THAT.

Too long, didn't read? 

The good:
Pretty good organisation
Race started on time
Great amenities
Focus on family/ friends/ health
Clearly marked route

The bad:
WTF, distance markers?
Nicoll Highway slopes...TWICE. (not as bad as the City to Surf hills, but I was not expecting inclines!)
Too many loops in the route (again, not as bad as the City to Surf hairpin turns)

In other news...
Last Friday was my birthday. On Friday morning I had a terrific run. On Friday night I somehow got out of work at 8pm and made it to a nice (not break-the-bank nice; just cosy) restaurant by 9pm...where they miraculously had a table free up right as we got there, without a reservation, at peak hour on a Friday night. Birthdays really are magic.

Oh, and thanks to my fantastic husband there's now ice cream cake in the freezer. (Every year he asks me what I want for my birthday; every year I say ice cream cake; every year I get an ice cream cake. Isn't life grand?)

On Saturday morning I had a nice run, too. Despite eating ice cream cake for breakfast.

A mystery
I've been running for AEONS, so when will my easy run pace get faster? Such a mystery. Ok, I admit, this week at track I dropped out two *hard* 400 reps short of a full set. (Yes Coach Shem, I'm more disappointed in me than you are. It's a good thing you already know how I feel about 400s, because I was too out of breath to complain.)

I've still got to figure out what my goals are for next year. Do I want to try for another marathon PR and the family marathon record? Or be a running buddy for a physically challenged runner? Or run half-marathons until I get to the elusive 1:58? Or volunteer at a race? Or do my first ultra? Or help Ken Jin grow the Singapore Glove Project? Or pace a friend? Who knows? Focus, crazy woman, focus.

But honestly? 
If I wasn't training for anything I would probably run between 5 and 10k maybe 5 times a week, and however far and fast I want to on weekends (10? 15?), just because it's quiet and peaceful and I love watching the sun rise while I run. And keep going to Tuesday track; I like those people. I reckon that sounds like a good plan for a while, what do you think?

Does anyone else have a drop in motivation after hitting a nice fat goal - like a marathon PR? I feel like I'd  focused so long on sub-5 that I don't feel like focusing all that hard for a while. Mentally, anyway. My legs are fine. 

That time I dropped out of a half marathon

When Super Generic Girl posted a list of things you definitely, absolutely shouldn't do while dealing with a running injury (do as she says, not as she does, folks), I commented very briefly about dropping out of races.

You know. Such as last weekend.

I'd originally signed up for the Tri-Factor Half as a training run for the Perth City to Surf marathon. But the Dread Haze forced the organisers to postpone it to this past weekend (October 6). My training plan for November's half marathon said 'run very slowly for two hours', and I'd already paid up for Tri-Factor, so off I went to do it.

When I woke up at 5.30am there was a fine ol' storm outside and I nearly rolled over and went back to sleep, but a quick check of the weather radar showed the rain would soon pass and that the weather would be cool and lovely. So I hauled myself out of bed, had some toast and went off to East Coast Park. The race started just a smidgen late - 7am instead of 6.45 - but it was the smallest half-marathon I've ever done here. (If you're the sort of person interested in signing up for things for the possibility of winning prizes, take note! I am not. I haven't a chance.)

I know lots of people think running back and forth along East Coast Park is dead boring. And I know the reclaimed land is slowly crumbling back into the sea. And it's mostly flat. (MOSTLY. There are some hills which don't look like much, but which suddenly start looking like Mount Everest once you're tired.) But we went east before the sun rose, and west after it did, and the temperature was perfect, and I mean, you cannot possibly complain about a sea view the whole way.

For the first 10km (completed, on pace, in 1:03) I had absolutely nothing to complain about. Nothing. Zilch, zip, zero. The sun came up and the sunrise was exactly as pretty as sunrises tend to be.

At 11km I began to feel a little nauseous. And then a lot nauseous.  Let me tell you, as delicious as watermelon Nuun tastes going down, it tastes a lot worse coming up.

At 13km I began taking little walk breaks.
At 14km the walk breaks became longer.
Shortly thereafter I started taking little run breaks in the midst of all the walking.
And then shortly after than I just started walking altogether.
People a little way behind me began to pass me.
People a long way behind me began to pass me.
People whom I'd seen way back after the turnaround began to pass me.
And worst of all, I caught myself wishing I was on Squeaky, my road bike. When does that ever happen? When do I ever choose a bike ride over a nice training run?
The sun came up. It got really ugly. At the 18km point, right near where I'd parked, I snuck off to the car.

It's a good thing this was only a training run. After all that I came home and had a good long nap and went to work the evening shift from 2 to 11pm.

I still don't know what happened, and won't know (no I'm not pregnant - sorry Gran). Could be the toast. Remember the toast? It was sliced bread that came in a plastic bag. Regular, perfectly ordinary sliced bread. It's just that we've had a breadmaker for so long, I haven't had regular storebought sliced bread in a year. Maybe that stuff.

I've not had to drop out of an A race. So far. But then again, I haven't really been that strategic about my race schedule so far. Let's not jinx it. (Which is why I'm diligently doing my squats and pushups and hip drops and lunges and planks. I am unbelievably lazy when it comes to strength and stretching, but it's preventive medicine.)

---

This weekend has been extremely laid-back so far. This morning I went on a Singapore Glove Project run with Ken-Jin. (Singapore Glove Project: we like to run, but we hate trash on our running routes.) As usual the remnants of Friday night's parties were all over the place. Also possibly Thursday night's parties. Opening-ceremony paper confetti is basically the worst idea ever.

A possible culprit!  (Photo credit: KJ Tan)

Ken Jin disapproves of all the confetti.

We also saw an entire 7-11 chicken bryani on a bench, unopened.

Drunk people do strange things. (Photo credit: KJ Tan) 

I'll call that a 6km fartlek with plenty of stopping and walking.

Tonight the husband and I are going to some friends' housewarming party, and tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn I'm running 14km (that's 8+ miles for you people who think in imperial - I only speak metric when it comes to distances) with two friends who really, really need to meet each other (and can then speak to each other in miles as I run out of breath trying to keep up with them).

If you think this will result in some sleep deprivation you may be right. But it appears to be Karaoke/ Singalong Day at the void deck of the block across from mine (I've heard songs in three languages and two dialects and they've been going since THIS MORNING), so I doubt I will be getting much sleep anyway...