Speed is relative... and I'm relatively faster

A wise man named Jack Fultz once told me that speed is relative. I, being not so wise, laughed at this, thinking it merely a ploy to make slower runners like me feel not so crappy about their not so speedy running capabilities. Well, maybe it is a ploy, but, regardless, I took it upon myself this summer to become relatively faster, and, believe it or not, it sort of worked! And, something I learned about being relatively faster is that running becomes relatively more fun the faster you get. Yes, you read that right, I said running was fun. I ran a race this past Thursday night and it was actually fun. And I don't just mean the after party was fun (that's a given). I mean the bobbing and weaving, heavy breathing, sweaty, heart pounding, legs screaming, "left foot, right foot, repeat," act of running was FUN! Yes, dear readers, it has finally happened, I believe I have officially lost my mind.

This past Thursday was the last in a 5 part race series on the Charles River. One Thursday a month for the duration of the summer, runners gathered at the Marsh Post near the Elliot Bridge in Cambridge, and ran in a big, overcrowded, clump for 4.2 miles around the river until reaching their final destination... free beer. The races were something I really looked forward to each month. A great chance to get a run in, and then hang out with friends, listen to a cover band, and drink some Harpoon underneath a starry sky. All summer I have used these runs as a sort of gauge for my progress on "Project Run Faster" (I just decided that's what I'm going to call my quest for speed). Each race, I made it my goal to cut just a little bit off of my time from the previous race. Overall, I was pretty successful at doing this, though some races were more difficult than others.

This last race, I had the pleasure of running with Tyler (no, I didn't get THAT much faster... he was taking this one easy because he had another race the next day). As we ran through the inevitable clusterfuck at the beginning of the race, I was feeling pretty good. The air was cool and clear, my favorite weather to run in, and my legs were feeling very energetic. While I normally feel anxious for the first mile or so of a race- even these small, familiar races- this time I felt calm and relaxed. We joked around, Tyler made monkey noises and quacked at the ducks, and during parts of the run when I could feel my legs start to get a little bit tired, I turned my concentration towards whatever it was that Tyler and I were talking about and just kept running. As we made the last turn, just before the final mile of the race, Tyler asked me, "Ok Krazy, what do you have left for the last mile?" which I knew meant that I was supposed to turn up the speed, but at that moment, I wasn't quite sure that my legs had anything left in them. "I'll let you know in a minute," I responded back, hoping that maybe by the time a minute went by either I would be a little less tired or he would have forgotten that he asked in the first place. After a minute, maybe a little more, I decided that, this being the last race of the summer, I was going to finish with everything that I had left. I picked up the pace a little and heard Tyler just behind me, encouraging me to pass people. You know in the movie Seabiscuit, the one about the race horse, how all it takes for Seabiscuit to kick butt in a race is for him to see the eyes of the horse that he is running against, and then he just takes off. Well, that's sort of how I felt on Thursday. After I passed one person in that final mile, that was really all I needed to forget the heavy feeling in my legs, and I ran as fast as I could through to the finish. When I got to the finish line, I was more than surprised to see that the clock said 37:25. 37 minutes, 25 seconds, which I quickly realized in my head meant that I had done two (relatively) incredible things : 1) I had run under 9 minute miles, and 2) I had run 2 minutes faster in this race than I had in the last one. (HUGE thanks to Tyler for making me run (relatively) fast... I wouldn't have done it myself). And the most miraculous part of it all is that, despite feeling tired, I had fun the whole time, and finished with a smile. (another huge thanks to Ty for that one too)

So maybe it's not that running relatively faster makes it more fun... maybe it's that all the fun people are fast, so when you can finally keep up with them (or can convince them to run relatively slower with you), running is a whole lot more enjoyable. Whatever it is, my final summer race was all I could have ever asked for it to be. Next up- I look to continue the success of "Project Run Faster" at the BAA Half Marathon in October... I'm pretty sure Tyler's not going to be willing to run this one with me, so I'm going to have to figure out a way to entertain myself for 13 miles... or find someone else who will make monkey noises during the race...