Barely Keeping Pace

The fastest mile I've ever run was five minutes and eleven seconds. I ran it when I took running in college. We would go out to Research Park early in the mornings and the instructor had set up a course and I remember the foggy, cool morning when I ran that five-eleven mile. Sadly, I was not elated by my time. I came in second out of a class of about twelve, so I should have been proud. I weighed about two-hundred twenty pounds and a five-eleven mile was unheard of carrying that much weight, so I should have been proud. Why wasn't I proud?

Cause the guy who won came in with like four twenty-nine time. He was a blaze of speed. All leg muscled and stick frame upper body.

That's how I feel right now. Not proud but at least glad I finished.

I am barely keeping pace. I wrote about 1700 words today and as you can see from the table that's about two hundred twenty-three more than I need to keep things in the black.

It was fun writing. Got a lot of things out on the paper. The meaning behind the title, the interaction between the main character and his former love interest. Very invigorating to write but I didn't rack up the numbers like I had hoped to.

Tomorrow I have a long plane ride so I hope to knock out several thousand sitting in airports and on planes. I better, if only because I doubt I'll have much time during the next week.