Finally, I was alone on the trail.
I was a trifle melancholy as I thought about my Annabel Lee. I miss her presence. Sometimes, when I see the Boten-Daughter in the great hall of the mansion by the cliff’s edge, I see her playing Bach on the harpsichord, she, with the same posture and the same gestures, reminds me of my lovely long-lost Annabel Lee.
But enough of that. You don’t read Botendaddy to be sad, you read Botendaddy to improve your running, lose weight and above all, read about all of the very strange women who are obsessed with the delightfully-tanned Botendaddy.
Lots of good news. 17% body fat. 67 pound weight loss. I now weigh 217.6, but still 18 pounds over the ‘good’ BMI. I know I need to lose more because by waist is not 34 yet. 18 pounds should do it at this point.
I started out at what I thought was a really fast pace on the flat around the museum. I was at almost 2 minutes flat on the first quarter-mile. It was literally all uphill after that. My first mile time was under ten minutes.
The route becomes a trail around the 3/4 mile mark when it veers into the woods of the great urban Park. Still not a great pace. I’m running almost a full sprint, but still the minutes go by too fast.
The second mile was a sharper uphill. I ran a 21:16, but I was very disappointed with it. My sub-18 minute two mile in New York (Albeit all on the flat) seems like a terrible fluke.
The god&mned MapMyRun App twice inappropriately paused, totally screwing up my one and two-mile times, but this time I had the wristwatch as a backup, so all was well.
Today, I wanted a variety of surfaces: steep uphills, sharp turns, speed training, almost fartlek-like and a longer distance.
My three-mile time was OK at 33:16 and my 5k time was solid (for me) at 34:36. What was unusual was that I had a very good four mile time. Not great, but good. It gives me hope for my next 10k.
It ended up being a jaunt of 4.11 miles, in a not too horrible time. Some of my four-milers used to take me well over 56 minutes, this was 45:50, so not awful, but my 4 mile goal is 39:59.
I’m just not fast anymore. Now that I’ve taken care of the weight, my goal is to train harder and faster to get better times. Word to the wise, getting thin is just not enough.
I stopped in front of the museum to catch my breath. I felt a weird warm sensation on my buttock as I was bent over in the shade. It was the Weird Foreign Doctor Chick! (WFDC). She was groping me most inappropriately.
“Ah, you actually are to have been having small firm gluteal regions, sexy American man. But it is difficult to feel them completely with your massive, tasty, soaked adult diaper. I hope that I am to be feeling just sweat and not a massive yeasty, reeking, bladder-emptying urination…again.”
“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?” I wondered aloud.
“I am a Doctor, you silly American man. In my country we are allowed to conduct full examinations of males on their private parts in the most public places!” She declared.
“I believe you just made that up.”
“OK, so I lied, you caught me. Let’s get jiggy with the science now my sexy, aged, tall, tanned, muscular American man-person. I am what is called a virgin. I am 27. Make love to me immediately, fill my uterus with your precious bodily spermatazoans, but then of course you must marry me or you will be torn apart by Water-Buffalo in the ancient tradition of my country.” She said, matter-of-factly.
“You made that up too, didn’t you, WFDC?”
“OK, wise guy, you are to have been catching me again in little white lies, you racist jingoistic, ethno-centric, first-world-problem, white skinned, bleached face, honky-ass, sexy-devil-person-man. OK, so little chubby brown-skinned-girl is madly in love with you. Is that a crime in America? To love? Is it my fault you actually have to train harder to improve your shitty heart rate so you can run faster? Jeez you racist-ethno-centric-hater-hater-gringo-pale-face-pasty-face-gweilo-equinsu-ocha-pink-face-person-type-man.”
“OK, if I f&%k the living crap out of you for several hours, will you promise to shut up?”
“Ooh, of course, that might work, you oppressive white-devil-man, with your tanned, sexy body. GIVE ME THE BODDEE DEVIL-PERSON!”
Peace be the Botendaddy