One Small Race

So I've been slacking for a few days. Payback was this morning, in the form of a 10-K race that I thought would be fairly easy. Small crowd -- maybe 200 or so runners. Not heavily advertised -- no chips or any major sponsors. And starting in the mid-morning. I figured, eh, treat it as a fast run.

Ugh.

The first 1.5 miles weren't so bad. But at the third mile, we hit a hill and started going up. And up. And up. I passed a couple of kids in their 20s losing their lunch at various places along the hill. Went back and forth with one guy in his early 30s.

"You're a truck!" he said after I passed him going up a hill for the third or fourth time.

"A 1963 Dodge, I think."

He wound up beating me by about 10 seconds. All things considered, though, I didn't do too badly. I came in third in the 30-and-over group, which wasn't too shabby. The guy who came in first for the "older runners" category was in his 50s. So I was mildly pleased.

Going to work on the chicken coop today and see if I can't get back into the swing of things tomorrow. And not get cocky. Third place ain't bad, but I could've done better than 8:07/mile, even with hills that would've killed a mountain goat.