When I came home from work this evening there was a plump brown envelope sitting in my post box.
Result! though I. The end of my money worries.
Now a lifetime of corrupt practices lay in front of me – ones I’d be paid for.
No such luck.
Knowing that I have been enjoying my running of late (enjoy=not take seriously) I knew that my forward planning of last November was now coming home to roost.
So, I said, I’d better check the engine and I laced up my shoes and ducked out for a 6 mile run just before this evenings dinner- 3 slow, 3 fast was the plan.
The slows were recovery effort and the fasts were supposed to be ’10 mile conversation pace’. That’s a running term for ‘I think I’m going to cough up a lung.’
I was hoping for 7:30 for the fast ones so I could dream of something faster on the day.
I am delighted to report that I clocked 3 miles at 7:07 – 7:09.
Good as it is, the pace is all a bit too little too late but the consistency is what impresses me. I am normally one of those people who you could not rely on to pace a marathon.
I’m now stuck between my two strategies:
Run the course twice on the day to make a 20 mile long run and mask my lack of pace.
Run it once with everyone else and just accept my fate as a not-as-fast-as-I-once-was runner.