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.