Ode to the Fast and Patient

I have always been the slow one. It matched my name. It matched my wishy-washy commitment to training. It matched my attitude. Even if I wanted to run faster, I found that I was too out of shape to go very far... and so there I always was as the caboose of the running train, sometimes irritated, sometimes complacent, mostly counting steps until the torturous exercise was over.

Today, in conditions that I never could have been convinced to run in a year ago, I found myself in an odd, uncomfortable position. At Fleet Feet, running in normal slow group but with new people, I was the FAST one. Let me repeat that craziness--I WAS THE FAST ONE! And it was horrible... We ran two minutes and walked one (as we always do, as the owners of the store and leaders are big fans of the Galloway program) at a pace that was averaging 17 minute miles. Seriously, most people walk faster than that, and it was five minutes slower than the slowest run/walk pace we have ever run in our group (hills included). I was cold, barely raising my heartbeat, barely breaking a sweat. I couldn't stay with my group; as soon as I knew where I was going, I 'sprinted' off. The total run experience was more irritating, more frustrating, more torturous than ever being left behind.

To all of my running partners of present and past who have taken strides that are quicker or longer, and often times both, but opted to run slower with me, I clink my running shoes to you. In all runs, I realize, there is more than merely getting out there. Little did I know how much you pushed aside to run by my side. The steps are always easier with you there, and I am grateful your company and encouragement. But before the frustration mounds, I encourage you to allow me to watch your swift and graceful motion slip away. I'm slow, I know, so I'll just be a bit behind.


Time: 40 minutes
Place: Pikesville
Weather: Dark and Icy!
Distance: 2.3 miles
Feeling: Did I even break a sweat?
Overall grade: D