27 going on 17

To change things up a little today, I packed my daughter and the laundry in the car and headed up to my parents house for the day. While my daughter was down for her nap and the laundry was finishing up in the dryer, I took to the streets of my old neighborhood and did my long run for the week, 9 miles. Even though both the town I live in now and the town where my parents live are suburbs of St. Paul and only about 20 minutes from eachother, the two cities couldn't be more different. Where I live now, I'm pretty sure I'm the only runner. Occasionally I see a person or two jogging down the street, but it's still pretty rare. I'm used to get strange looks from my neighbors that are outside on their porches enjoying a beer and a smoke. The town where my parents live is a running paradise. There are always people out and about walking around the lake. Today alone, I passed several runners, walkers, bikers, rollerbladers, people out with their dogs. Instead of funny looks, I got smiles and nods from the people I passed. It's a little creepy when you're not used to it anymore.

My route today took me along the lake, starting with some of my favorite routes from my high school track days. I started along the south shore of the lake, made my way north along the western edge, continued past the turnaround point from one of the 5 mile runs my coach loved to take us on, along the biking and walking path up to the main beach before turning around and heading back to my parent's house. All in all, about 6.5 of the 9 miles were on the lake and it was a beautiful day to be out.

I have a Garmin GPS watch that I wear on my runs to keep track of miles and my pace when I'm gunning for a certain time. On my long runs, I settle into a comfortable pace which usually ends up being around 9:30/mile. Today however, I must have been channeling my inner 17 year old because when I looked at my watch as it beeped the split for the first mile is blinked 8:50.

Alright old lady, slow it down a bit, you still have 8 more miles to go. Don't kill yourself.

mile 2 = 9:06

Ok, a little better, but still a little too quick. There's a lot of miles left.

mile 3 = 9:04

I thought I told you to slow down. You're turning 28 in a few weeks. That's almost 30. Do you want to have a heart attack?

mile 4 = 8:57

Ok, could have sworn I slowed it down that last mile. This stupid watch must be broken or something. I didn't feel like I was going faster.

mile 5 = 8:49

Hey, I'm over half way done with this run. I don't even feel that tired. Maybe my old body can keep up.

mile 6 = 8:34

This is kinda fun. Only 3 more miles to go. I might not die today afterall.

mile 7 = 8:25

Did I really just run 8:25 7 miles into a 9 mile run? That's insane. Hmm, wonder if I can go any faster?

mile 8 = 8:35

Crap, I'm old. But 8:35 isn't bad. One last mile. I know I can do it. Come on legs, don't fail me now!

mile 9 = 8:19

Oh hells yeah!!!! I don't even feel like puking. That rocked!!! Go me!!

Total time = 1:18:44 (8:45/mile)

Last year I ran a 15k (9.3 miles) in 1:17:30 (8:19/mile). I felt like I was going to die after that race. My legs turned to jello somewhere around the 8.5 mile mark. But it was also one of the best races I'd ever ran. I was so proud of how fast I ran it in (I was gunning for under 1:25, so I killed it). I haven't been able to run like that since. But today, on just a regular old long run, trying to take it easy and rest up for the tough weeks ahead, I probably could have easily beat that time. Maybe these old legs still have a little life left in them.