I bought myself a running hat in Boston. It's black and says Boston on the front in bright beautiful kelly green. On the back it says "Wicked Fast Runnah" and one can't help but say it with a Boston accent. I love it.
I wore it running on Saturday. It did not take me long to recognize the irony of mon nouveau chapeau. One would expect to read "Wicked Fast Runnah" on the back of a hat of a runner that blows by you. In my case, most of my running friends got to read the back of my hat as they blew past me. Wicked fast runnah indeed!
I'm ok with my pace - but it is kinda funny.
On Sunday, I joined the Runners' Edge cycling group for our weekly ride. As per usual, I kept up but just barely. Again, I'm ok with that. I figure it's better to hang out with people with whom I have to struggle to keep in sight. That way I'm pushing myself harder than I would otherwise. But man, every Saturday run and Sunday cycling is a lesson in humility.
Every once in a while it's important to step back a bit and get some perspective. I hang out with runners and cyclists. They are a strong, fit, kick ass group of people. Within that group there is a range of abilities. But the least able person can still run. Or cycle. Without collapsing from a heart attack three minutes in. They are tough as nails, boundary-pushing, courageous athletes. The least fit person in my fitness world is fitter than most people on the planet.
I need to remember that when I feel twinges of envy watching runners pass me on the hills, during intervals and, let's face it, on long flat stretches of road. They may be faster than I am but, damn it, I can still run 10k, 20k, 30k. I have a super healthy diet, I can run for hours and cycle up the Park Road Hill...and I do it all in spite of my faulty pancreas.
So I will wear my Wicked Fast Runnah hat with pride. Those people I do pass may be impressed and those that pass me will be amused. Either way, it's a really cool hat.