Ramblings During a Rough Run Today

This afternoon I ran a very hilly 5 mile out and back in Parsonsfield. It was a struggle! My legs are still tired from Tuesday's long trail run. I think It's age. It takes me longer and longer to recover between hard efforts. Oh well, I'm thankful that I am healthy and active and more fit than most people. Here's where my mind was wandering as I grunted and groaned over those hills today...

Oh, what I wouldn't give to have my thirty-year-old legs back! I used to run this same hilly road 17 years ago and really push hard up these hills. I'd average about 7:00-7:15 pace on those hill workouts. I don't remember EVER running slower than eight minute miles even on my slowest easiest runs. Today I'm barely averaging 9:30 pace. Yikes! But truthfully, the legs are all I'd want back from when I was thirty. Each year my life gets better and better as my running gets slower and slower! I guess you could call it an inverse correlation. But really, looking at the whole scheme of things, what does it really matter if I run slow or fast as long as I'm happy and healthy and enjoying life? Though I must admit, I am NOT enjoying this particular run today. What the Hell happened to my speed?!

I wonder how old I'll be when I finally find myself finishing Dead F'ing Last in a race. I can kind of picture it, they'll have already taken down the finish line clock and given out all the awards. The refreshments and water will be all gone. The parking lot will be almost empty. There might be a few paper cups rolling around on the ground and the shredded remnants from when the winners' broke through the finish line tapes. A few stragglers heading to their cars might look up and clap as I come over the line. Someone will say, "Good for her, she doesn't care how long it takes her, she just wants to finish."

If I ever do finish DFL I am going to throw my arms up in the air as I run across the finish line. I was always too shy to do this when I used to win races. I thought it looked kind of braggy. But if I do it when I am old and slow and in last place, it will just look whacky and senile...

And with this last thought, I arrive back at my car where I had left it behind the Fred Morrill School. I throw my arms up in the air and paste a big fake victorious smile on my face, practicing for the day I finally do finish DFL.