I’m comfortable aging.  Mostly.  I know women think it’s funny to say guys don’t mature much after college but I’m not sure that I have.  I feel young.  To feel young running though requires a little speed.  Racing in Colorado requires age-defying momentum.  My races planned for the rest of the year will be shorter distances and I’m going to need to quicken my cadence to be competitive.

I’m not a nostalgic person – rarely do I ever reminisce here in my storytelling.  I get nostalgic during runs though.  The final two miles in long races, or simply workouts, triggers my memory like an autonomous muscle and I think back to high school cross country.  Our races were still two miles long in Texas.  I think they moved to the 5K distance a year or two after I graduated in 1980.  I relive these high school races during the remaining two miles of a 10K or marathon.  I often recall the state cross country course at Southwestern University in Georgetown Texas – it’s held in Round Rock now.  It’s an extremely hilly golf course and one year’s event finished at the top of a huge hill.  I finished second, by maybe only two seconds.  When I relive the event, I find a way to win racing up that final hill.

I’ve gotten fast enough that I oftentimes find myself racing against youth in my weekend events.  I get a kick out of it.  I’ve learned not to leave anything for the final kick.  Not that I don’t have the speed but I’ll strain my hamstring sprinting at the end.  I learned this in last year’s Colder Bolder 5K.  I should probably avoid 5Ks.  I have to warm up with a 3 mile jog if I expect to run 3.1 miles with any speed.  Sort of ridiculous but I figure it’s a 6 mile workout.

I’m thinking about this because my buddy Torin caught me from behind with two miles to go on my training run yesterday on the LoBo Trail.  I ran 8 and I think he only ran about 5, but I was a little bit ticked.  Partly because I had been running fast.  Torin caught me when I was starting to cool down.  Naturally I had to speed back up so we could could chat for a mile.  It also irritated me because he’s my age.  Boulder County must have the fastest fifty year olds in the freakin’ country.  I don’t mind get passed by the shirtless CU Cross Country Team when I run the East Boulder Trail, but I feel like I sort of own this section of the LoBo Trail.  I don’t like being passed on it, especially by fifty year olds.  Time to begin some speed work.