I'm planning to run a 5k in a few weeks. Technically, I haven't signed up for the 5k, but I've told everyone I know that I definitely do plan to hopefully maybe definitely maybe sign up, so that's the same as signing up, right?
The race course is in a park, so this morning I went there to try it out. I figured that once I was done with my practice run, I'd be writing a blog post about how I'd collapsed, how I'd never make it through the actual race, and how I hoped the other runners on race day would be nice enough to gingerly step over my corpse, or at least kick it out of the way so it didn't trip anyone.
It turned out that ... I did great! I had my upbeat running playlist on my iPod, and I flew on winged feet all the way through the course. I didn't stop to walk once! When I finished, I felt like I could keep on running! I checked my watch, and my time was excellent!
Weirdly excellent. Suspiciously excellent. Physically impossible excellent.
After returning home and carefully studying the map of the course, I realized that I'd started and finished in the wrong place, and I'd missed out on at least a mile or more of the actual course. Oh.
I'll have to try it again in a few days, and I'll probably be writing that corpse-themed blog entry then.
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