Tryptophan Half Marathon in north Georgia, 9th out of 223, first in M56-60, 1:33:02. Nice course on a bike trail along a creek, but wooden boardwalks were glazed and slick.
Tryptophan Half Marathon in north Georgia, 9th out of 223, first in M56-60, 1:33:02. Nice course on a bike trail along a creek, but wooden boardwalks were glazed and slick.
Won the local 5k in 16:04. 3500 runners. Back from a marathon with only 8 runs in. 43 years old. Whats up with all these young guys?
Doesnt add up wrote:
Nigel_Bikes wrote:
I was a DNS for the 18th year in a row. I've kind of got a streak going. Prior to that there were no Turkey Trots where I was living. My last Turkey Trot was in 1985 and I won a Turkey for 1st place.
2018-1985= 33= 18 years?!
It adds up but you are not thinking outside of your box.
Last Turkey Trot was 1985. Then I moved and there were no Turkey Trots where I was living. I know that Thanksgiving is a big holiday in the USA and even Canada, although they have it a month earlier. News Flash! Thanksgiving is not a holiday all over the world. In the country where I was living (not the USA or Canada) there was no Thanksgiving, hence no Turkey Trot. Therefore I was unable to run in a Turkey Trot as there weren't any. When I moved back to the USA in 2001 I missed the Turkey Trot and just haven't done one since moving back. I only counted my streak as running in Turkey Trots that were being held where I lived.
3rd in 17:37. man, i'm washed up. to be fair, about 190 ft of elevation over the course.
True Story Brah wrote:
I kicked off my sweats and put on my 3" shorts. I warmed up with 5x18m strides and dynamic lunges, all the while keeping my eye out for the fast guys so I could stare at them and win the very important psychological battle. I saw some fat waster drinking kool-aid talking to a few MILF's, I presume it was Jamin, he looked weird.
I toed the line, making one last effort to visualize my dominance over the trotters, reeling them in and smashing them as I glide to victory.
The gun (fog-horn) went off and I quickly got to goal pace, on the first bend there was a bunch of emaciated vegan protesters, one banner read 'Free Turkey (the animal not the country), I got a tear in my eye. I shook it off and focused on the task at hand. There was an age-group 55+ lady in front of me, so I drafted her for 100 yards or so, then took her out, my speed dazzling her so much that she tripped and fell into hot dog and coke. She had a t-shirt on that read 'Disco Gary is the Gravy'.
Six hundred meters in and I was feeling the burn, my Pegasus 12's were laced too tight and the cold was making my eyes water. I dug in. I gritted my teeth. I fought harder than I'd ever fought before. The rest of the race was a Utopian blur of endorphines and adrenaline. It was as if God herself was carrying me to the finish line.
168th from 201 runners. Age group 45th from 49 (two places behind Scorpion Runner, Smoove won).
Clearly, the Lydiard Canova inspired hybrid plan that Coach JS had written me (for a paltry $300) had worked.
I am a runner. I run. I am run.