There was a fair going on in the wooded park. Kids and families everywhere, mixed in with the runners. The shirt was awesome, but no swag of any kind. They had water at the half-way mark. If they had refreshments afterwards, I did not see them.
The race course was interesting. It went from a heavily wooded sub-rural park across a highway to a farm country road, then past well-kept fields of corn and other crops. Some of the farm families sat out along the road to cheer us on.
I beat almost all of the walkers this time. You know, the guys and gals that stop to walk, then start running again. I hate losing to them. I never stop and walk.
One girl, about 16, actually encouraged me as I ran past her. Nice kid. There are a few nice kids out there, I suppose. I ran a full on the toes sprint to the finish line for my best finish in my last three 5k’s. Maybe I’m getting out of the slump.
I went to sit on the ball-field. And there she was! The librarian was back!
“Truth be told, yon, tasty, well-tanned, lean, muscular, almost-chiseled-six-pack Botendaddy. Your body is delicious… delicious, but your running is still atrocious. It’s just bad.”
We sat on the ball-field below the finish line. Last year at this time, I had finished the race in intense heat with a 45:00. Yes, I was two places from dead last. This year I finished in the 33’s. Good, but not great.
“I’ve missed you *hot*, hard-bodied librarian-girl. My age group is killing me. These folks are from the great era of running. They have the highest participation of any age group. You know they are riding the curve.”
She was in her characteristic pose, knees together, arms wrapped around, her head cocked to the side. She was wearing all blue today. He perfect lean body glistened in the dying embers of the setting sun.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“OK, thanks to your excellent Wikipedia™ article, I will go look it up.”
My shirt was soaked. Everything was soaked. The humidity was murderous.
“It got everybody jogging. These old dudes, they are killing me. Now all the young people, on the other hand, they are overweight, unhealthy, un-athletic, they play Q-Boxx and Grand Theft Velocipede and Yaoi and Xii-U. The are on Spacebook and Schmoogle and Lickapedia and Hamstergram and Musical.she. They do anime and graphic novels, cosplay and furries… It’s affecting health care costs, they can’t find enough fit kids for the Army, even the gays, there’s no thin, young adults anymore, it’s a crisis for them.”
“So what’s the deal Botendaddy? Why are you still so awful at running?”
“I’ve thought about it. Look, here’s the deal. Despite losing 78.8 pounds, at 205.6, I am still 6.7 pounds above BMI normal, which is 199.9 pounds at 25 BMI for 6’2½”. My waist is 35¼ inches, but in Japan you are required to be 33.5 to be healthy, so I probably need to weigh 192 at the most. But what if I need to weigh 172 to be ‘cut’ like ‘Swole Bro” is? A 112 pound weight loss? That would be a total loss of 40% of my body weight. Was I that enormous?”
“You were big muscle. Now you are normal-sized almost thin.”
“Even if I solve all that, I haven’t trained enough speed and twice a week running may not be enough. I need to train for speed, run more hills and do more lower body work. Possibly non-religious-non-sexist-non-homophobic-non-racist-social-justice-labor-fat-acceptance-non-culturally-appropriating-Yoga or some other stretching regimen.”
“Your run today, on the uphill, you did better. But that massive, tasty adult diaper can’t help in this heat and humidity.”
“I did OK, but I’m still barely breaking a 9-minute mile. I ran an 8:58 for Khufu’s sake. The crowd of sub 8:00 people ran away from me in the first 400 yards. Then the rest of the pack of sub 9:00’s drifted past me over the next mile. That’s why I need the eight-minute mile so badly. I always have to start fast to finish fast. My second mile was 19:48, right at the Army standard for my age group. I should be under 18:00 for the two mile run to have any prayer at a good 5k time.”
“Your placing is very bad. You just need better times.”
“I need 27 flat just to be in the top half of runners. I don’t think I’ll ever make my goals. My progress has stopped dead. How can 33-something be a good time when a month ago I ran a 30:15 and a 29:27? I’m regressing.”
We got up and walked over to her van. She invited me in for a protein drink and a water.
“What about nutrition?”
“Nothing is working, I’m afraid, except baby aspirin. I tried protein bars, protein drinks. I don’t drink those nasty Red Toro type drinks, it has to be milk-shake-like. I tried multi-vitamins and it’s only gotten worse. They tried to upsell me at the VNC store. I only wanted to try a product and they tried to sell me a $60.00 jar of some kind of creepy yucky mix-powder drool.”
“You are boring me. F&^k me now, Dear Botendaddy, with your enormous gnarled monster and make it good.”
Peace be the Botendaddy