95 days until my next attempt to qualify for Boston.
Last night my Work Friend and I ran "the hill" behind where I work (and pictured in the heading of this blog), one of our usual training runs. It's a total of 5 miles up and down, and on a pleasant Scottish summer evening, it was particularly enjoyable.
The climb is steep and tough, but the descent is where I make my money. It's been dry lately, so I wore my road running shoes, and didn't go all out - athough I did stretch my legs a bit as I ran downhill.
As I descended I again had the thought of how good it was to be 44 years of age, running in the hills, and feeling good on such a nice evening.
When we got back to the campus, I asked my Work Friend if he'd like to to a mile on the track. The track is behind the sports center on campus. I wanted to see how fast I could run a mile - four laps around the track. He was willing to tag along.
I went out hard, but eased up in the second hundred meters. At the beginning of the second lap, I felt like I was going to be sick, but kept going. It was warm and humid out, and the sweat ran down my forehead freely.
The third lap felt ok. It seemed like I was getting a bit of my breath back, and finding a rhythm.
I picked it up at the beginning of the last lap a little bit. As I rounded the final bend, I started sprinting - kicking my legs out off the rubberised track.
I finished in 6:12. That's how fast I can run a mile.
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