Went for a run with a coworker, but not the usual suspect. Normally, Monday sees a good half dozen folks, but it was just me and BB yesterday. Normally, we both are content to let someone else set the pace, but, lacking that, it fell to us to self-regulate.
“I’ll take it a little easy, since my legs are sore from Saturday.”
So, we headed out, at a moderate to brisk pace. She was right beside me, so I assumed that she was good with the pace, and I didn’t need to back it off or step it up any. Hit the turnaround at .8 miles in a pretty quick time, and kept going. Finished the first “lap” in the equivalent of 17:35, which means we had just run it faster than anyone who isn’t me running alone. Another third of a mile in, she asked for a quick walking break (and by that, I mean, “80 yards, walking quickly”) before resuming. I finished with a good but not great kick over the last thousand feet, for a time around 26:45; she was about 30 seconds behind.
At that point, she admitted that she wanted to throw up, but walked it off, before we returned to the gym and talked no small amount of smack to the folks who’d given things a miss.
“How’d you do?” Coach H asked.
“Well, she kicked your ass by thirty seconds.” I’m not above fostering a spirit of friendly competition, you see.
Today, I came into the office to see a thank-you note from BB, for having kicked her butt to the point where she went to bed early and slept like the dead.
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