I’m slow.

Since I already gushed all over you fools with sappy stuff in my MunRun post, I’ll keep this one a little less emotional. Let’s talk numbers.

My time. Was slow.

My pace was actually exactly what I predicted it would be, at 11:00 min/mi. But I’m happy and sad about that at the same time. I still haven’t gotten around to writing about this, so I guess now’s as good a time as any. The past year running, any time I’ve gone up to a reasonable race for a reasonable distance, my leg would get all pins and needles-y. Like it would fall asleep. It hurt and was annoying and killed my legs for a week after. Doctor-type people guessed that it was maybe chronic exertional compartment syndrome? But anyway, I had resigned myself to being slow for pretty much forever. Any time I pushed myself, bad things happened.

Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome

BUT THEN. About two-thirds of my way into my training, I noticed a weird weird thing. My paces improved! Now, def not a lot; we’re talking like, 9:45 or something. This was huge for me though. And it was addicting. Every time I heard my RunKeeper robot chick tell me my pace, I wanted to push myself.

And that would be great, if I didn’t have a race coming up. My legs were always a little more sore after I tried to bring my pace up. I loved it, but I couldn’t risking injuring myself. So I turned my sexy robot chick off.

My paces went back to what they were. It kinda sucked, especially seeing my stellar friends get down below 9 min/mi, but hey. I’m in no rush – this is a marathon, not a sprint 😉

I can beat my weird leg thing. Next time (River Run??!), I’ll train a little more for speed. And I’ll see y’all at 9:00 someday.



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