So I need a change of scenery today for my run, so I choose the arboretum, the last time I remember being there was in college, post sunlight and post many beers, so I had no idea what kind of running trail I was getting myself into....sober. I'd judge it as a pretty average running trail, plenty of little hills, dips, straights and turns. It killed ME, but I try to judge a course not based on my level, but rather how challenging it should be to the average runner. NOT that I classify myself a runner yet, I have to stick with it for a while, more than a year and consistently practice the sport of running.
So as I run the arboretum at UK, run.com says it is 2.45 in length to run the entire way around and today, as I push myself beyond where I think crazy has come and gone and I run consistently 6 minutes with 1:30 break in between (and I don't just casually walk - I keep walking large strides with arms swinging), 3 times around the arboretum trail. I'm sure I looked like a total spastic, not quite Phoebe from Friends, but rather I'm sure I had a "I'm going to die at any second so if you see that as you pass me and here a "phflump" on the ground, please call 911" look on my face the entire time as well as terrible posture and loud breathing.
As I run/die/walk, rinse and repeat, I profile every single person I pass. It makes the run quite interesting as I listen to Kesha "tik Tok", since I have no idea what that song is about other than it seems this "Kesha" really has no idea what it is really like to party and thinks shes good friends with P Diddy and brushes her teeth with Jack Daniels. Brushing your teeth with anything other than bleach after a hard night of partying will leave you with bad breath, something no one wants to be around including yourself, my dear. I could go on, but I need to get to the point here. So as I think about passing out and giving in to the little black dots I start seeing before my eyes at the 5 minute mark, I pass a group of Asians, looks like a small family, so I bet that at least one of them is a doctor or scientist smart enough to be able to determine my chances of living once I have passed out in front of them from running like an idiot. I bet that the female would be kind and pick up my head and try to wave air in front of me trying to get me to respond, while the "doctor" tries to feel for a pulse, and the scientist just shakes his head as he takes one look at me and realizes I am no runner, but a floppy excuse of an exerciser.
I keep pushing on, knowing that I haven't passed out in front of my caring asian female, the doctor or scientist, I look for another human specimen to determine if they shall be fit to take care of me should I drop dead in front of them. I pass two tall black men (not too shabby) and what appears to be athletic or slightly muscular. I bet that since they have passed me three times on the track I have run through only 2, that one of them, if not both, could pick me up, should I pass out and run me to an area where there are more people to help as one of them calls 911. I bet that they would yell for help should they need more and I bet that due to their brute strength they should be able to get me to a location where I could survive, possibly to the asians, so the doctor can check me out and the scientist can just shake his head.
I pass a number of younger white couples. I determine they are all useless. I pass two older ladies with a very old dog who I assume are lesbians (not the dog, I'm sure she is just a victim of circumstance), who have only in their late years embraced their homosexuality and are bitter for not having done so sooner or not been in an atmosphere or cultural environment where they could have, so they'd much rather enjoy their lesbianism to themselves and not be bothered thank you very much since they have time to make up for and would rather not waste a nice summer evening wondering if some sweaty girl who has obviously pushed herself too far is going to wake up from her running induced coma.
Some white guy with serious love handles (eew pull your pants up or please wear a longer shirt less revealing) and a black t shirt that is torn all the way down to his hips (I mean it is seriously a glorified large mens bib) runs really fast pass me, but then I look further down the trail to see he has slowed down, though I don't doubt his enthusiasm (he like many have passed me twice) he is obviously running a lot for show as well. I am running, just not to die whilst doing so. He will be useless to me also as he is so self consumed with showing off, I'm sure at the several pretty blonde chicks I've seen, I doubt he would notice my limp body on the ground and since I'm not blonde, I'm shit outta luck.
I wrap this up with a scattered Pakistani or Middle Eastern kind of people, most of which are NOT dressed to be exercising, and have, surprise surprise, a book in their hands while walking, or are just using the benches to sit. I bet that if I collapse around one of those benches I would get helped by the physicist, but would be shockingly awoken from my near death experience and be yanked back from the light like a bullet out of a barrell from a certain, shall we say, body aroma.
I see one girl that looks a little heavier than me, but is much prettier and blonder and her and I pass at equal intervals on the course the three times we run around. I know she'd stop if she saw my body lying limp and she'd probably enlist her community college nurse training like she'd always hoped she would and save the day. The third time we pass, I look like washed up shit on a BP oil slick beach and she looks the same as the first time I passed her. Bitch.
Even with my most recent brush with people as a bad experience (the cell phone theft incident - I will blog about some day just not today) I still think good in mostly everyone I see. I don't judge harshly, but I do enjoy trying to read a book by it's cover, it often saves time, and hell, if I'm wrong it's a pleasant surprise!
I ran for 1:13:26 today and I feel like total and utter craptastic shaky blubber. 6 minutes on 1:30 off, consistently, I did accidentally walk for about 2 minutes at one point, but half way through my run I actually ran 8 minutes without realizing, that was cool. SOOOOOOOO I ran for over an hour and I feel like I ran my maximum today. 10K +7.35 miles which is 11.8286 kilometers. This is where I draw the line, this is where I stop. This is where I do this or less and push to run harder faster for longer and get my time down. PHEW. It sucks, I am taking Friday off from running and taking in a ball game instead. My pelvis hurts, my legs hurt and my knees are screaming at my feet "Why did you let her do this! next time hide the running shoes" Feet: "don't blame us, you are closer to her head, and obviously it was in her ass since she ran so obscenely long today". I'm a running racial profiler and I imagine that my feet have conversations with my knees and other body parts to try to talk myself out of running like a crazy person.
I need another hobby.
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