A couple years ago, I started a half marathon training program six weeks before the race and set a PR (no longer my personal best at the distance). Now, I'm facing the Tallmadge Memorial 5-K race on Monday for which I don't feel very prepared in terms of beating my current best-ever of 22:29. Yes, I can fake it, as Jess says. That is, if we're talking about faking the distance. But I can't fake awesome.
Reviewing my goals for this race and the subsequent whipping Martini bestowed on me, perhaps it's time for some cold, hard revision. My PR remains my No. 1 target. However, I feel like some consolation goals are in order, just in case:
- Finishing in 22 minutes and something would be comforting.
- Finishing in 23:xx would be acceptable.
- Avoiding a personal worst is a must.
But I'm dealing with my own issues. My calves and thighs have a nice dull ache from my recent barefoot romp in the woods. I have the afternoon off today for some last-minute speediness training. Tomorrow I'm planning a 10-mile long run before a giant Memorial Day bash -- booze and pig roast! -- courtesy of the erratic epicurean. Then it's rest and recuperate all day Sunday in preparation for the race on Monday.
I only race one 5-K a year, and this is it. One shot. Shoot to kill, bitches!
Wherein we discuss the prospect of kids -- and I don't mean the kind you drop off at the pool.
Nitmos started it with this comment in yesterday's non-kid related post: "Am I going to be the first to ask when the cute baby pictures are coming? Hmmm? Hmmm??? You know this is how it usually goes right? Dogs ... treat them like kids ... then the real ones come. Enjoy your practice. Cute dog."
Then Barefoot Josh said: "Viper? Kids? Nitmos is right. You should TOTALLY get a goat or two. Maybe fainting goats. Then you could sneak up on them and watch 'em fall over. Great at parties."
Answer: Last time, we were down South, the Enthusiast and I almost stopped by Fearrington Village to see the fainting goats. Maybe next time we're down Cackalacky way, we'll pick some up ... and then drop the kids off at the pool.
All right, Booze Hounds, Happy Hour is nearly upon us. Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!