Musings on Broad Street from a reluctant runner

Steve is such a good sport.

For those who don’t know me personally, Steve is my husband, who I frequently drag to road races as my pace team and cheerleader, and sometimes peer-pressure into running himself. He’s fast, posting a time of 1:12 for the ten-mile Broad Street Run on Sunday, and will run a 5K at the drop of a hat, but just doesn’t get excited about long-distance running the way I do.

Our different attitudes about running make for interesting discussions over post-race dinners, as we inevitably have different takes on the race. Two gems of advice from Steve, as heard over post-race pizza last night:

On the fact that this was a fast course, leading both of us to post quicker times than we expected to: “We still had to run. I mean, we weren’t on roller skates or anything.”

On his attitude when he’s passed by a runner who clearly has to pick up the pace to pass him early in a race: “He can pass me now. But he’s going to pay for it later.”

In other post-race news, I was shocked and somewhat amused this morning to discover my post-race sore  spots: shinsplints! I haven’t gotten shinsplints for years, when I was forcing myself back into harder running after a few years of casual jogs. Must’ve been the downhill course. I’ve decided to consider the slight pain a small price to pay for an ego-boosting time.

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