BF and AF
BF and AF, you ask? What the hell is Hemingson mumbling about now...? I am in an intropspective phase now I guess, plumbing the dark depths of ego and id, a scary place to be I must admit. Sort of like looking under the biggest, dirtiest, muddiest, grungiest rock you can lift and finding all kinds of disgusting wiggling, creepy-crawly type stuff. Ah, to be five again!
What is it about time for runners? Time and times. It is relentless, this time bugaboo, you can not escape it. It is tough for runners who enter races and talk about running to not have a conversation eventually turn to the subject of time. It must be an innate desire to quantify the thing, the running thing, I mean. As soon as you have someone's time, you have a yardstick against which you can draw yourself to your full height.
Growing up as a sprinter, time was measured down to the split second. Tenths and even hundredths took on great import. Even now, it is hard for me to have a conversation about running with someone without eventually asking them about how fast they are. And yet, after a marathon or a half marathon or an ultra marathon, the war stories that runners share and commiserate with are usually independent of time. It invariably goes something like; I had a cramp, stitch, blister, I bonked, puked, nearly passed out, I... you fill in the blank, and chances are someone will chime in, My God!, the same thing happened to me at mile.... fill in the blank again.
Anyways, in order for me to get out of my fucking head, which is where I also invariably get into trouble, I have come up with BF and AF. Times for Before Forty BF, and times for After Forty, AF. I am not twenty, or even close to thirty anymore. I am not going to run any 36 minute 10Ks anymore. It is just not going to happen. So AF, I am shooting at a 44 minute 1oK. I think I can kick the crack out of THAT sucker! And I have news for you. I know full well that BF and AF are soon going to stand for Before Fifty and After Fifty. To be followed I am sure by Before Sixty and After Sixty...
What is it about time for runners? Time and times. It is relentless, this time bugaboo, you can not escape it. It is tough for runners who enter races and talk about running to not have a conversation eventually turn to the subject of time. It must be an innate desire to quantify the thing, the running thing, I mean. As soon as you have someone's time, you have a yardstick against which you can draw yourself to your full height.
Growing up as a sprinter, time was measured down to the split second. Tenths and even hundredths took on great import. Even now, it is hard for me to have a conversation about running with someone without eventually asking them about how fast they are. And yet, after a marathon or a half marathon or an ultra marathon, the war stories that runners share and commiserate with are usually independent of time. It invariably goes something like; I had a cramp, stitch, blister, I bonked, puked, nearly passed out, I... you fill in the blank, and chances are someone will chime in, My God!, the same thing happened to me at mile.... fill in the blank again.
Anyways, in order for me to get out of my fucking head, which is where I also invariably get into trouble, I have come up with BF and AF. Times for Before Forty BF, and times for After Forty, AF. I am not twenty, or even close to thirty anymore. I am not going to run any 36 minute 10Ks anymore. It is just not going to happen. So AF, I am shooting at a 44 minute 1oK. I think I can kick the crack out of THAT sucker! And I have news for you. I know full well that BF and AF are soon going to stand for Before Fifty and After Fifty. To be followed I am sure by Before Sixty and After Sixty...
posted by Vince Hemingson at 7:34 AM
2 Comments:
Vinnie,
Is Cactus going to running with you in Boston??
How about WM and WT?
While Moby-ed and While Thin!
I'm as fast now as in my (relatively untrained) 20's, and if you get the weight down, you can be, too!
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