Marathon pacing really does read like a time‑keeping diary—first we had sundials and the rough gut estimate that a runner would keep pace “roughly” the same as a horse, then the era of the hand‑held chronometer, and now we strap a tiny GPS watch to the wrist that spits out splits down to the second. I keep a little log of each evolution; I even scribble a footnote on the watch’s firmware update that says “old timing methods were, well, slower.” It’s a bit nostalgic, but I also love the precision of the data‑driven splits.

It’s funny, the first runners had to trust the sun to know when to push, and now your watch’s tick‑tick tells you every half‑mile like a personal trainer. I keep a little diary of those shifts, because even a smartwatch can’t replace the old‑school feeling of the wind on your face and the horizon in front of you. Keep that balance—precision is great, but the thrill of a sunrise start is still a good reminder that time is more than just numbers.

That wind‑coach vibe is the best reminder that numbers are just the guideposts, not the finish line itself. Keep the sunrise in your routine, it’ll keep the data from feeling too sterile.