Sunday, August 18, 2019

Progress is Progress

This may be true, but trying to think about progress being progress when you're still slow as fuck isn't as exciting as it could be. Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy to be running at all, but of course there's a part of me that is disappointed to be running races at what used to be a slow jog pace. I look at the results of older women running any kind of national race, and I'm instantly embarrassed about my race pace. God, I would love to be a minute or more faster per mile than I am. At this point, I don't even know what's physically possible, 10 seconds? 15?

Complaints aside, I really love the Aids run in Denver. It's a very small race with the main focus on the walking event and Diva Dash that follow. The whole day is scheduled full of activities, so the 5K is down on the list of priorities, but it's still a great race. It rarely starts on time, but I like the low-key feel of it. Everyone is SOOOO nice, from volunteers to participants.

The course changes every year. It's the same basic route, just with slight variations, which some people hate, but I don't mind. This year we started on the opposite side from where I ran it last. Rather than immediately get in over my head, I tried to take the race in sections, easing off the pace here and there and then leaning into it again. It's less stressful, and I think I run better this way, though I'm still experimenting.

One positive thing is that I felt pretty good. Unlike a lot of races recently, I can look back and see that maybe I could have gone faster here and there had I been blessed with the kind of confidence I wish I had. I didn't feel wrecked at the end, just tired and sore from my uneven gait. A really nice gentleman who passed me toward the finish offered some words of encouragement, and that helped me dig a little deeper in the last stretch. When we congratulated each other after the race, he gave me a hug, and this friendly gesture touched me deeply.

My feet held up OK, but they were both a little sore after the race. I'm still landing wonky and not able to fully push off my left foot. As a result, my left side can get pretty sore, and my right side compensates by getting tight. I had some trouble on my cool down, so it's something I continually need to watch.

I don't know my official time. It looks like it might have been just under 22 minutes; I'm not sure. Whatever the case, I'm OK with it or trying to be. Found it later:  194 5k Lize B 50-59 F 1 5 21:57 7:04.

In other news, I thought about writing a blog post about the idiotic Weight Watchers app for kids, but I don't even want to give them any attention. I've said enough on Twitter, and there are plenty of other people who have already tackled that idiocy. The company is one big cesspool of fuckedupness. I hope the backlash they're receiving causes sales to perpetually plummet, and someone takes all their shitty food products and shoves them up the CEO's ass.


  1. 21:57 translates to about 18:38 once it's laundered through the various age/altitude converters, which I'm sure is the best "effective" time you've run in 10 or more years. You ran some similar times 5-7 years ago, but although it's tempting to think of "old" as a single glop of shit of a category, anyone wo merely maintains from their early 40s to their early 50s is beating long odds.

    1. It's hard to feel good about running slow times and hurting for doing it, but I guess it's still forward motion.


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