There is nothing like a race number in the post. A big unexpected bag of Amsterdam grass might get close, one supposes, but the little trill of excitement and the sudden sprint to internet pacing sites is surely incomparable.
I'm not really counting that first Bupa jaunt in this, my new running life. Minimal training and a very last minute decision to actually race the route means that the time, unembarrassing as it was, will not go on my permanent record. So this is the one. Race the first. Five miles, flat course, Sunday week. What's to be done? My old three goal system works like this:
Acceptable: you better fucking do this or I'll break your face. Challenging: this is the one, the time that'll make you happy and earn you a beer. Ultimate: In your fucking dreams, don't even work out the pacings, if you go out for this you're going to blow up. Saying that though, if the first couple of klicks come out at this kind of pace you may as well fucking go for it.
Here's my problem. I can't find an Acceptable. Breaking 32 minutes seems like the only result that I can, well, accept, due mostly to the ugliness of anything slower. Look at this number: 32'16. See? I've seen prettier Limerick rugby supporting farmers. Having gone under 29 minutes for the distance it would feel sister-snogging sick to do anything slower than 31'59. And so, stupidly, but self-awarely, the goals become:
Acceptable: 31'39
Challenging: 31'29
Ultimate: 30'59
I'll be sorry.
8 comments:
Don't mind that sub 29 Gimme, that was another lifetime. Acceptable is anything faster than last time out
I am hereby adopting your ultimate 5-mile goal as my acceptable return to 5K by my birthday in early July.
How exciting! Wish I was there to cheer you on and marvel at the sight of human beings moving so fast on two feet. That, and drink some pints afterwards. You're going to kick ass.
132 looks like a nice balanced number, Gimme.
You'll rock it.
I have no doubt you can pull this one out of the bag, skin it and wear it as a turban.
That sounds like a challenge Mr Stipes. Give me six months.
That would be seriously fucking acceptable Grims. Be sure to come back slowly.
I hope it's not predictive, Medbh. An hour and thirty-two minutes would make me late for the spin class I have to teach after the race.
I'm in the market for a new stupid hat, Fmc. A turban would surely fit the bill.
i have never seen such a perfect embodiment of "the fuck am i doing this for?" than Riker's face in that photo.
Good luck tomorrow! Will be cheering like a cheery-gom.
Didn't make it today?
Whatever the reason, hope to see you back soon.
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