Someone in Runner's World said she didn't like being referred to as a "jogger" because she thought of herself as a "runner". I think of myself as a "plodder" and this needs to change so I can win a shiny trophy before I die.
I had this bright idea that I would just go out and start running as fast as I could and see how far I got. Once I hit the streets and went for it, I didn't talk myself into the lightning speed I'd hoped. According to my GPS I hit about a 6:34 before careening into the gutter and hacking a lung out. Okay, just kidding. I hit 6:34 right before easing back to my oh-so-comfy 10-minute mile.
Perhaps, though, these self-inflicted "drills" - (along with the black nail polish idea I stole from Kara Goucher) - will bring me a better time on the next race. I'm trying not to think about the fact that I think Goucher's half-marathon PR means she ran about 4:23. Gads.