When I read blogs about the struggles of fellow runners, I usually feel empathetic. Can appreciate the pain, frustration and feelings of inadequacies.
Then I read their race time.
Sympathy out the window. Insert anger. Even consider trying to find an address to mail a personalized bitch slap.
Seriously?! A 5k time that is a 7 minute mile is not fucking slow. You know what I would give to be able to run that pace for a mere 30 seconds?!
*rocking back and forth in fetal position**
Okay. Okay. I am fine.
When I read post's like these I think what the fuck is consider slow? In running there is no measurement...is there?
Well, now there is --
5:00-6:30 m/m - Motherfucking-Kenyan-Leap over tall buildings-UBER Fast (and typically uber skinny).
6:30-7:30 m/m - Burning with jealously and envy- Really fast.
7:30 - 9:00 m/m - Kind of hate you - Fast
9:00-10:00 m/m - Strong dislike with a tinge of envy and a dash of jealousy - boarderline fast.
*10:00-10:30 -- Hello, average. Nice to see you. Let's hang out for awhile. Average.
*10:30-11:00 -- Limbo. Feet still moving forward and dream of consistently falling in the above average category. Boarderline Average.
11:00+ -- Keeping it real. Someone has to cheer on the UBER fast runners. Slow.
*Is typically where I fall. ONCE I fell in the boarderline fast category. Once.
Although I am an average runner and in some circles slow, I don't care!!! Well, I do. But I have to keep myself in check. My goal is to do the best of what MY ability is and not measure it to the bullcrap above. However. If anyone bitches about their 7 m/m pace in front of me I cannot be held accountable for my actions.