What d'ya reckon to that then? Last year vs. yesterday.
No more am I zipping along leaving vortices in my wake, with a sonic pop. No longer am I weaving dribble webs from chin to chest. Ne'er again shall I wheeze like a broken accordion.
This man, THIS MAN RIGHT HERE, was overtaken by a glacier. An old man whipped me across the back of the legs with his walking stick to move me aside so he coud overtake at relativistic speeds.
My wife and my Garmin are vying for control of my life. This thing is at me every 10 seconds for one thing or another, 'time to get active', 'strap me to a human'; in the 7 days I've had it, we've had as many arguments. It started throwing my worldly possessions out of the bedroom window at one point while I was profusely apologizing and pledging to up my daily step count, but on yesterday's run, we became one. Like two lost spirits who have roamed the universe for an eternity in inexorable loneliness, who finally stumbled across each other's Tinder profiles and got nasty. Raiding the vegetable rack, kind of nasty.
I looked down at it at one point and saw a beautiful 7:40/km running pace. We shared a moment of ecstasy right there and then. I think I've finally done it. I've got the hang of slow. Let's all share this moment together, it's yours as well as mine.
I kept my stride length short, I managed to nose-breath the entire run and recovered after each interval in a single mouth-breath. I had to shorten my normal running route and it still wasn't short enough...
You know what? I think I could run an ultra at that pace. I think I'll skip a few weeks and give it a shot tomorrow!
Only joking! Hilarious, I know. My God, this installment is in danger of actually being about running.
Happy running you bunch of speedies. Slow the hell down, I am now the self-appointed speed police. I'm practically an expert.