No, for once, not my boy. He actually hasn't grown more than half an inch this week. Pausing for breath, I assume, because he's tall enough that the air must be thinner up there. (Yes, I'm having difficulty with the sheer height of my yes-still-twelve-year-old son and the fact that he's fully FOUR INCHES TALLER than me... though he's been taller than me for months now, you'd think I'd be over it already.)
No, this is my own growth spurt. I'm a little shocked at my new "easy pace" that has made itself evident over the past few weeks. Case in point, yesterday and today:
Tuesday: Easy four miles. Final stats: 4.12 miles, 37:07, 9:01 average pace. Splits of 8:21 (whaa?!?), 9:16, 9:31 (trail), 8:58, and 8:31 pace for the last little bit. Did not believe the numbers until I saw the map online.
Tonight: Grrls run group, five mile option. Final stats: 5.70 miles, 54:51, 9:37 average pace. Started with the "party pace" group, drifted forward to the "peppy pace" group, settled right in between with a friend I haven't seen in years (who's more amazing than I can say, given this was her first run out in months and she kept the pace - yea, P!). Splits ranged from 9:10 to a 10:00 mile for the brewery hill (~150 ft elevation gain).
I keep thinking back to a year ago, when an 11:30 mile would leave me gasping. Eleven months ago, when standing on the start line for the Capital City five miler, I just wanted to maintain 12-minute miles. I finished that day with a 10:15 average pace, and realized that maybe I could actually do something with that. And now...
it's just weird, people. I don't want to put expectations on it. I don't want to put weight to it, because I don't want to fail. And yet, I'm enjoying blowing past these boundaries. My darling husband keeps laughing, reminding me that these boundaries really only exist in my head. He's right. I love him for being right, by the by.
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In other news, I had the serendipitous privilege of meeting Ms Amy of Run Mom Run tonight when stopped for water at the running store. Since Amy posts pictures (which, I admit, I choose to not do), I recognized her immediately when she and her running buddy came in for a drink. Hopefully she wasn't too startled by my (loud) "You're Amy!" (artful, no?), and I missed the opportunity to wish her a happy birthday in person (darn migraine brain). They were finishing a hilly run - I believe the word "sadistic" was used - and yet looked fresh as daisies. Amy, I'm very happy to meet you in real life! (Oh, and if you're reading this at all timely, go check her blog - she's doing a birthday giveaway. Fun stuff.)