Massoman came out to my neck of the woods this morning to run part of my long run with me; he needed hills and I needed pacing. When we started at 5AM it was only 72 wonderful degrees outside – a welcome relief to the blazing heat wave we’ve had going on here in Texas. (Although I feel the need to throw in the 85% humidity part)
My goal for this run was to keep up with Massoman. And for the record, Massoman is 7 feet tall, so I take about three steps for every one of his. I am only pointing this out because I feel I should get some handicap minutes because obviously, I’m not 7 feet tall. Anyway, back to the subject. It was a really hard and fast run – especially when I was going uphill and wanted to stop and walk, and normally I do. It was then that I thought of those effing plate runners and how much harder those are than running up these stinking hills. So I kept running. And I didn’t stop. Not for one hill. Not for the entire run.
I know I look like a sea-monkey, but I’m a little bit psyched because I just finished running 16 miles at a 9:34 pace. ME! I did that. And I still can’t believe it.