This past Sunday marked 7 years since my first race -- the Virginia 4 Miler in Lynchburg. My time was 34 minutes flat, an 8:34 pace. That experience forever changed me.
Today I had a great speedy run in Roanoke by myself -- no co-workers, no dog, no music -- and my time and pace put things in perspective to me with how far I've come in seven years, as well as what could lie ahead for the Baltimore Marathon. This experience is just part of my growth.
This afternoon's 4.3-mile run was in 36:17, an 8:26 pace. There were two big hills that could have broken me, but I hit them harder than I've been hitting hills lately.
I've had several runs this summer that were quite a bit faster than races from the first couple of years of running. Those were races that would leave me sore the next day because I ran them so hard.
Defining progress is hard, and when it actually happens it's tough to explain how great it feels.