The Record That Went Away

A story of how continuous improvement is overrated

6 min readApr 12, 2020

Back in October, I had trouble getting up the mountain. Heavy breathing. Sweat. Laboring. I could throw pain agony in there, but you get the idea.

One time I was a little more than half-way up, taking a breather. Apparently, I looked pretty bad, as a person passed by and commented something to the effect that someday I will be able to reach the top. What the heck, I thought, I will reach the top today, I will just look like I am dying when I get there. I reached the top that day; I probably looked like I was dying.

Then I reached the top the next day. Then the next. And so on.

The mountain is by my house. Some people in Metro Phoenix will drive and park to climb it, but not many. It is challenging but not too challenging. It is a nice hike, but not too nice. It is far from popular trailheads like Camelback, Piestewa Peak, South Mountain, and others. But the East Wing Mountain trailhead is less than a half-mile from my driveway.

So I climb it. For a couple of months, I pretty much climbed it daily so that I would go from that huffing and puffing out of shape, “someday you can make it guy,” to someone that can hike it with ease.

Getting there takes repetition. Sometimes even two hikes in one day. Some call it boring. Real boring. To me, yes, it is the same hike, but it is different on a hot day. It is different at sunset. It is different with a full moon. It is different in the dark of the morning. It is different at sunrise. It is different right after sunrise. It is different after the rain. It is different in the fall; different in the winter; different in the spring.

But, it is the same hike. It is one mile to “about” the top of the mountain from my driveway.

From my driveway, I pull out my cell phone, click on the app with the map and timer, and hear the “start workout lady voice.”

The next time I hear the lady’s voice, it is at the one-mile mark. The one-mile mark is about 50 yards from the top of the hill. Not quite the top, but pretty close. If you do this hike day after day, you start to remember things. The 26 minutes turn into 24 minutes to the one-mile mark about 50 yards from the top (remember, I am walking, and it is up a mountain).

The 24 minutes turn into 22 minutes. Then 21. But from there, it never gets to under 20. This was around November. I was stuck between the back end of 20 minutes and 21…and mostly more than 22 minutes. I could run a little, but that would be cheating, and as they say, “I would only be cheating myself.” Eventually, it evolved into a goal — a challenge…do my normal hike, don’t run, and complete one mile in under 20 minutes. A nice round number.

Day after day; week after week I was close, but it did not happen. Every time the Lady Voice would give me the time, I would be disappointed. And yeah, I probably did swear at her a few times.

But one day it happened, December 17 to be exact. It was in the morning, and it was before sunrise, and cold. I knew the pace that morning was good. In past hikes, I avoided taking the phone out of my backpack to “see” the time, because I would lose valuable seconds. This time, without missing a step, I grabbed my phone and took a look. I was close to the mile mark. I was well under 20 minutes. I had a chance. I held my phone and watched it and I walked briskly.

This was not exactly the agony of defeat, turning it to the thrill of victory, but honest to goodness, my heart was beating fast. “I am going to do it” I said to myself, or maybe out loud. That day I did it. With the phone in hand I did not even have to wait for the Lady to announce my one-mile time, I already took a screenshot and it was 19:52 at 1.01 miles…I killed it…I achieved the record!!!

Then comes the “what next?” By this time, I am in shape. I still do the hike most days, but added racquetball into the mix, so it is not every day.

I could set a goal of passing that same guy and say, “hey buddy, ya goin’ make it to the top someday?” …but I decide against that idea.

On my “most days” hike, I still set the app timer. Maybe the hike is not official unless I hear “start workout.” One day I kind of remember reading a message on my app about improvement. Like blowing past a terms and conditions page, I barely read it.

Not too long after, I am at the top of the hill, and I have not heard the Lady voice yet. I look at my phone, and it is working ok. Strange. Then the next time I hike, I pull my phone out and take a look at the “normal” one-mile mark, about 50 yards from the top. It is at 0.90, less than 1 mile. I think to myself that maybe I started the app late, not at my driveway.

Hike again, the normal mile spot is no longer the mile spot. I get another popup message in my app. This time I read it. It reads something like, “Due to our commitment to improvement, we recently upgraded our GPS technology to be more accurate.”

I hike the next day, and once again notice the “normal” one-mile mark is only 0.90 of a mile. I am at the top, and have to go down a little before it turns into a mile. I am well over 20 minutes.

At that time, I suddenly realize that my one-mile hike, under 20 minutes on that magical December 17 day, was not accurate. I start to curse the app for their dedication to continuous improvement. I was more than happy that their GPS was wrong for many months, maybe many years.

Oh well, I am now in shape. I am way past huffing and puffing to reach the top. I am in a lot better health than when I started. I no longer even take a backpack or bring water. I barely breathe hard even during the challenging uphill areas.

I am back to climbing the same mountain every day. Only now I take something to cover my mouth and nose. And deep down, with all that is going on in the world, losing a record to a “better” GPS system is the least of my problems. But, it sure was fun that day.