Sneaking up on single digits

I’m calling it a PR.

It’s been so long since Traci and I timed ourselves on the River Greenway, I can’t really say what our previous best might’ve been. These days a plain vanilla out-and-back 4.2 miler is the “just get something in” option. We don’t even associate it with training — more like an effort to avoid losing ground.

Wednesday we were in a hurry, trying to wedge in a run before the day got away from us. Just for the heck of it, I hit the stopwatch on my cell phone.

We returned in 41.49. A heartbeat under 10 minutes a mile. We’ve run faster, but not together, and not here — not that we can document, anyway.

The last time we paid any attention to our Greenway times they were in the 44s. Granted, that was a couple of years ago. And it’s a small achievement in a week when I’m painfully aware that there’s no way I’d be ready to run a half marathon this Saturday, if work and kid commitments hadn’t gotten in the way of my signing up for the Parlor City Trot.

Still, going from double digits to single digits is a huge psychological barrier, especially when it happens in your everyday running.

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