Monday, March 17, 2008


Today is St. Patrick's Day and I didn't wear a stitch of green because I am grouchy and obstreperous, gearing up nicely for old age. JUST YOU COME AND TRY AND PINCH ME YOU CHEEKY BASTARDS. I am going to bed in a minute here, no green beers or kissing Irishmen even if one were here saying I have nice looking potatoes with his seductive Irish accent. I'm into Swedes these days.

The race yesterday went nicely because first of all it didn't rain but stayed awesomely overcast for the duration.

Second because even though I had to abandon the potty line when I was within a quarter-mile, not going to the bathroom never bothered me. Still, every single race I run until I die you will find me in a panic waiting to pee while the seconds tick down to the starting gun. If I happen to make it to the restroom in time I run back to the end of the line and start waiting in a new panic because I am sure I have to pee, again.

Third, my lungs were mostly clear and even when I did cough up some pearly junk it did not choke me, was discreet and did not land on the leg of any other runner, thick as we were.

Fourth, fifth and sixth: the freeken hills!, the finish line kick, and my chip time. I finished 15k (9.3 miles) in 1:18:48 = 8:27/mile (7.22 mph) which is faster then I need to run for my marathon goal this year. Theoretically I would need to pick up my skirts and keep running 16.9 more miles at the same pace after the finish line to hit my hopeful 3:45 marathon mark so it isn't time to take it easy just because yesterday went alright, but its a nice pat on the back.

Seventh and eighth: I finished 54/264 in my division, and 258/1218 in my gender. Generally finishing in the triple digits isn't really that impressive but being in the top 20-25 percentile isn't so bad. It is all how you math it.

I could do, if I wanted to, high kicks today with no muscular complaints except a faint sassy twang in my left hamstring but old bitches don't to high kicks. They go to bed early.

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