Excuse me for a moment while I toot my own horn, because just last week I shattered my fastest mile time by running a blistering 8:06. This is nothing compared to what most runners are capable of, I know, but I'm old and my knees are creaky and generally uncooperative. Such an athletic feat was made possible because I kept pace with Jan Michael, who continued on for several more miles, while I collapsed on the turf and tried with all my might not to throw up. My next goal is to cross the finish line in under 8 minutes, and I'll do it, mark my words.
And now a word about my husband: The very same day I set my personal best, he came streaking in at 24:38, which is his fastest 3-mile time so far this year. I love to watch him run - he has such fine form and makes it look so easy; in fact, I've been known to bring a blanket and plunk myself down in the middle of the track and shamelessly ogle him as he chugs along. His next goal is to run the 3 in 24 minutes flat, and he'll do it, you can mark my words about that, too.
"Run so hard you come in with bloody feet and missing toenails." Rob Decestella
6 hours ago