I was finally alone. No psychos from the Writer’s Workshop to bother me.
Maybe I had finally ditched them all.
Who could possibly find me out here? Practically on the Ohio, West Virginia Tri-State border?
I had hoped it would rain during the race, but unfortunately it rained just before the race.
Humidity was a staggering 94%. No, that’s a real number 94%.
Temperature 80 degrees at race time.
It was like running in the jungle. (Sorry Creedence)
The crowd included a high school track team again, badly skewing the results in favor of a much faster pace.
We ran from a high school track, up a steep hill to a flat road, it was separated by cones with glow-lights on them. I had a knee-light, but it literally fell off on the first stride. I accidentally collided with a girl who turned back to get her cell-phone she dropped.
I was smart enough to spray myself with Cutter™, so I was not attacked by insects.
I drank a couple of Muscle Milks™ before the race.
I wore a glow bracelet.
I did duel with a few runners. The people who would stop and walk, I would race past them.
On the final leg, I thought I was at the finish line so I sprinted, but I was 400 yards short. So all the people I passed, ended up passing me a hundred yards later, I had nothing left.
No power at the start, no power at the end. My first mile was an atrocious 9:41 but I was about 20:20 at mile 2, not horrible, not good. My three mile was an acceptable 31:20, but i have to be consistently under 10:00 per mile.
I had hoped for a quick start, but this was the third biggest crowd I’ve run in this year.
I felt like I was running hard. I’ve learned to keep my screen locked, so my MapMyRun™ app was accurate.
Highlight: I broke a significant mileage barrier tonight, but not by much. Either way, it could be my second most mileage in a year ever.
Lowlight: I have no speed. I swear something is wrong. It’s not just the insane heat and humidity.
By all standards, it was an average good pace for me. Not exceptional, but OK.
33:33. Sad for a true runner. OK for me. I was hair out of the top two-thirds, still a far cry from my goal of finishing in the first half of each 5k I enter. It’s still looking like I have to reach 27:00.
Can’t blame it on being fat. My body-fat percentage is low compared to my BMI. I’m not a skinny-fat. I’m thin enough now. Hell I ran a 7:01 mile at a weight of 234 just 11 years ago. Now I weigh about 210… so WTF is going on? It’s not age, like all of the older male runners beat me. Well not all of them, I finished ahead of many.
I think I have physical burnout from over-exercise (for me) remember you haven’t:
- Been in two wars (in the past 12 years)
- Spent almost seven months next to a burn pit in Iraq
- Spent almost seven months next to an Aluminum Plant in Bosnia
- Cracked pelvis
- Cracked Ball-and-Socket joint
- Triple fracture of lower leg
- Split Tibia
- Cracked Vertebr(ae)
- Crushed disks
So shitlord on from your basements and your gyms kids. You’re so much bigger and better than I am (Muttering under breath with a fake cough ‘pu$$y!…cough…pu$$y!’ WHO ARE YOU TO PROTEST ME? UNLESS YOU BEEN ME!..Sorry I channeled Rambo. Apologies.
“I heard you the entire time, you pathetic, self-involved idiot. Pity me! Pity me! You silly man-twat.”
It was the CEO!
“How have you been CEO? I’ve actually missed you.”
We sat on a bench at the stadium watching all the runners come in with an obvious dangling modifier. As if a stadium could watch something.
“Well, this race is pretty close to Wheeling, so I said what the heck? I’ll go run with the Botendaddy. Your running really hasn’t improved much. There is something wrong with you. You should see a doctor. I think your lungs may be damaged somehow, but you’ve never smoke, nor roaked the schmiee. Or maybe it’s just burnout.”
We walked over to my car.
“It could be burnout. It could also be the insane heat and humidity the past two months. Worst I can remember.”
She slapped me in the behind.
“Maybe if you didn’t wear this ginormous adult diaper you wouldn’t overheat.”
“Look I’m going to the Pilot™ travel station for an excellent personal shower. They have dot dot dot like the best shower facilities at any truck stop I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, if you are inviting me, I do have a change of clothes. We will claim to be husband and wife. AS WE SHOULD FUC*&^G WELL BE ALREADY! You’ve f*&^ked me like thirty times, we’re practically common-law in West Virginia. Your Annabel Lee must have just hated you. I’m glad she died before she could find out what a horrid, shitty, scandalous, perverted, sick, twisted, evil, vile, rotten, low-life scoundrel you are. Let’s go to the Pilot and F&^k me damnit! They can clean it up afterwards. It’ll be erotic in a dirty truck stop kind of way.”
Peace be the Botendaddy