The Fence

Have you ever run along a solid fence before?

I do not recommend it.

On my run last night I found myself beside a tall, solid food fence about a block long. I looked sideways for a few seconds, at the fence, and I was instantly convinced I was running in place. Suddenly, I WAS molasses. Blobby, gooey, oozing, slower than anything. The feeling was disheartening.


I wanted to stop. Then I noticed that I wasn’t actually breathing that hard and my legs didn’t actually feel that bad, so I decided to kick up my heels a little and keep on the road (and not look at the fence).

Side note: the kicking up of one’s heels results in breathing actually being hard and legs actually feeling bad. Surprising, eh?

Anyway, I kicked up my heels and made it to the end (of the fence and my run) and it turns out I had been running my fastest mile pace ever! I guess you can look at this two ways.

1) My fastest mile pace ever was the speed of molasses. (yikes)

2) Even though I felt like I was standing still, I was going my fastest mile pace ever! (yay)

In reality, I think both are true. To a lot of people, three 9-minute miles is about the pace of molasses. But considering that three weeks ago I was struggling to put together three 10-minute miles, you can call me pleased as punch!

This is the first time I’ve ever put enough effort into regular running to actually see results. Look at that – I learned a lesson! Following through with something is pretty darn gratifying. Who knew.


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