Feels like Six

I think I might have PR'd (personal record) running home from work tonight. There were several tricks involved in this feat. First, I had to race the cold feels-like-six-degree temperature outside, and by this I mean I had to run fast to keep my body temperature warm and I had to get through wind tunnels as fast as possible. Second, I had to beat that guy with the flashing light on his backpack. Who did he think he was? At some point on 2nd Ave, my chosen route home tonight because I don't like running along the East River in the dark (because someone might throw me in), I was standing still at a stoplight and this guy dressed all in black with a backpack and a flashing light on it, ran past me. Not only did his backpack have a flashing light, but it also had a reflective cover over it. I don't know why this last detail is important, but I'll admit it, his extreme caution irked me. "Where's your helmet?" I wanted to call out to him in my best circa 1985 bonehead accent. Instead, I did what any rational person would do and I sprinted halfway down the block to pass him. I was winded for the next few blocks but I was happy to be winning. But then, something surprising happened and suddenly the sidewalk seemed to split into two sections; one section continued being the dumb sidewalk and another section turned into an awesome asphalt-paved bike lane right along the road, and that joker with the backpack light took the awesome route. He breezed past me, rightfully on the road with his flashing light, which now seemed like his own custom automotive tail light.

I was reminded of a half marathon I ran in the Bronx nearly a year and a half ago. It was a terrible race to start with because it took forever to get there via train from Brooklyn. I got a late start and it kind of threw me off for the next 13 miles. But at some point I was competing with this dorky-looking guy with one of those hydration belts. These things also irk me even though they are eco friendly, and hey, ultra runners have to carry their own water! I think it has to do with looking like you take yourself too seriously. But I digress. This guy would pass me and then a little ways ahead I would pass him, and this went back and forth for the entire race. At the finishing area where I was noshing on a bagel and a banana I ran into Hydration Belt and he smiled at me and said, "Great race! I was trying to keep up with you the whole time!" It was such a great moment! And of course he suddenly seemed super fit. I would tell people later, "Oh man, I really killed it in the half today. I raced this guy with 2 percent body fat the whole time." Not!

Needless to say Automotive Tail Lights beat me down 2nd Ave. and we had to part ways when I turned down Delancey to cross the Williamsburg Bridge. At which point I had to go it alone. And alone I was! There weren't many people on the bridge tonight.

I ran 7 1/2 miles this evening, but according to the Two Oceans Marathon training program I was supposed to run 3.7 miles (or 6 km by their measurement standard). This seems weak. In fact, none of the running days look too demanding for January. I'm feeling confident.