Prepping for Peachtree

We are less than 1 month from the Peachtree Road Race. Also known as the biggest 10K in the world. You may recall I have had a somewhat symbiotic relationship with the Peachtree Road Race for the past 6 years. This year will be no different, except as always, I hope to improve
my time and NOT be passed by 80 year old men.

So in effort to get ready for Peachtree, I am bumping up that running schedule.
Running is not a favored past time. I like it, but primarily when its over. Except I do get a big charge out of the Peachtree. And physical fitness is part of my daily commitment to myself.

So it is an understatement to confess I wanted to build a statue in my own honor when I ran a 5 minute mile a week ago. I just couldn't believe the watch but I assure you, I looked at it again. And again (and let's be honest...again and again and again.) I am not 16 so running anything less than a 10 minute mile is SHAZAM time for me. I literally felt like a bonafide bad ass.

Until, I tried to run two days ago. In the heat this time, since it will be, oh, 90+ degrees and 100% humidity on July 4. At my park of choice, all the runners are out. So it is motivating, and very telling. But I got my great big inflated running ego out there and I put it to good use. Oh......I see. Now, able body and legs, you turn your back on me. I felt like a sled dog with zero training. Was I still digesting that protein shake? Did someone fill my shorts with sand and lead? What the *@(&!? Baby kittens playing in someone's lawn were outpacing me.

The coup de grace? Being passed by a woman pushing a baby jogger with not one but two TINY babies inside that appeared to be all of, mmmm, about 4 weeks old. I would have tricked myself into believing she was just that nanny except they all had the identical mop of hair. Curses.

Provided I keep at it, I remind myself that I didn't even train the first year and was fine. Oh, it that dissipating youth? And seeing that 5 minute mark on my stop watch? I liken it to seeing a unicorn. Something you swear you really saw but know you will never see again.