Race Number 90 The Greenfield Glide

This is my first race since January 1st. I’ve been busy, you know. People actually talked to me this time.

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Race Notice

All the members of the Writer’s Workshop were there. Since it was right near that building on the right where we meet.

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See the Workshop’s Home on the right?

I was ready. Not really. My running has been shitty at best. Could I do the eight-minute mile? Who knows? I don’t. I’m not a f___king Nostradamus.

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Registration Table

Ever notice on WordPress when you first put in a pic’ and you want to give it a caption, two menus pop up at once, one a little black menu completely covering the one you need in order to write the caption? Who designed that?

The results

7:59 One Mile – One of my fastest miles in the past dozen years. Shows that I can still run in the 7:00’s.

18:06 Two Mile – Not too shabby, but a 10:07 mile in the middle of a race even though it was uphill, is not good. I need to cut my two mile time dramatically.

28:52 Three Mile – OK. Not great, but I should have had a shot at 27:45. Almost an 11:00 minute mile. Not a great effort.

30:45 5k – Complete Collapse at the end of the race on the uphill, plus the distance showed as 3.20 so WTF? I should have broken 30 minutes, but I just didn’t have the stamina.

Warmups

Could I have run harder? Maybe. I think the slow second and third mile killed me.

The Stalker showed up at the end of the race.

“Botendaddy, you ran like a dead anus. You got beaten by almost all of the decrepit old people and the fat people…

You are a shitty runner with your pathetic spinal injury and your shitty oxygen uptake. Ooh look at me! Pity me pity me! The age old cry, with your shit-covered spinal injury!…

F___ you! Your massive, freakish, de.ic.io.us adult diaper stinks too. How do you run in thing? Ah the smell of it! Can’t you see that I’m madly in love with you? Let’s go back to your University Office and F____…

Do you even know how to f___? Have you ever truly f____ed a woman? Get to work g__-damnit! F___ this woman!”

She shrieked while erotically moving her hands down the sides of her spandex-clad sweaty girlie-body.

“Bottled Cold Brew Mocha?”

Peace be the Botendaddy

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About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man alive...by acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
This entry was posted in Critic's Corner, Dining, Exercise, Fashion, Food, People, Running, Technology, Weather and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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