We just did a 3.5 mile run around Capitol Park, which our hotel is on the corner of. Along the way, we talked shop with a friendly woman from Philly (45-49 AG, by my sly extraction of information regarding qualifying for Boston). She’s trying for a qualifier tomorrow and I think she’ll make it, at least if her recent times are any indication.
I was happy to note that my heart rate (both while resting and running) seems back to its normal self. So no red flags are waving (or, like in the spring, actually whacking me) in my face.
On the way back up to our room we shared the elevator with four women about my age. One of them exclaimed, “Oh! You have the watch I just gave my husband. How do you like it?”
“I do like it,” I replied. “But they removed some key features from the previous model.”
She looked disappointed. “Really? Like what?”
“Well,” I replied, slipping into full freak mode, despite my best efforts. “You can’t review your run during a session like you could before.”
“You mean you can’t review the run afterwards?”
“No. I mean, like, if you want to check your splits…” I noticed all four women looked confused. “You know,” I blundered onward, “Like while doing intervals on the track.” Awkward pause. “You, um, can’t do that anymore.”
All heads nodded, yet still obviously perplexed. Jonathan sighed. I examined the elevator floor.
*Bleat! … Bleat! … Bleat!*