It was cold. 9 degrees Fahrenheit for those of you who follow the Jacobin-Bolshevik Metric System. There is no such thing as wind chill so I won’t mention it.
I was joined by Hiroku, Ramon and the Professor. We were all looking at Ramon.
“I am from the Andes you idiots. Not every Spaniard is from a desert.”
We all nodded in unison at the same time and all at once simultaneously.
We decided to try to pace with the 8:30 Guy. He was a real runner.
I couldn’t keep up. My first mile was atrocious, but my second mile was my fastest mile of the run, WTF?
After about the two mile mark, my gloves warmed up, as the sweat had iced them over creating a warm space inside the glove.
My three mile time was a respectable (for me) 27:50 about a 9:17 pace per mile. I faded badly.
My four mile time was 39:06, somewhere in the high nines, but pretty fast for me. The last mile was almost entirely uphill a 275 foot climb over less than a mile. It was brutal. I actually passed people on the uphill.
Conclusion. I’m still not a runner and may have never been one. I just Run.
“Let’s go back to my place and get in the hot tub.” Suggested Ramon.
“Do we have to all get n4k3d?” Asked Hiroku?
“Sure.” Said Ramon
“Awesome” She replied.
Peace be the Botendaddy