Pipe dreams

I was getting a massage from Rusty the other day, and we were chatting. Or rather Rusty was chatting, and I was making occasional grunting noises and trying not to scream.

Rusty was speculating on how fast I could run a 10K if I really tried. Now me, I’d be happy to see 37 minutes again. But Rusty tends to suggest things like 34~35. It’s a pleasant day-dream. I see myself passing Drea (something I’ve only done before when she was sick), and then Travis, and actually winning my age-group.

This time, however, Rusty went a little further. Rusty was saying he thought 31 minutes for me, if I really worked. 31 minutes? I’ve never run a mile at that pace, much less a 10k. Whoo-hoo. Drea and Travis are left far behind in the dust and I’m passing Aaron and actually winning a race!

But Rusty hadn’t finished: “… if I really worked — and took the right drugs.”

LSD probably.

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One Response to “Pipe dreams”

  1. Adger Says:

    Cripes, does that stuff work, even at our advanced age? I assumed, once you had finished frantically growing that the effectiveness would tail off, so that one had a sort of window of opportunity.

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