Couck to 5K - Week 4 Day 1

The Pole.

That is what I call one of the many markers like it on one of my routes. But this one is special to me. If I get to it before my time is up, I did OK. But of course, that is not the objective. The objective is to defeat this pole; to pass it bestowed glory and honor. I was charging toward my objective with Pat Benatar blasting in my ear, telling me that love was a battlefield and I had the right to be angry about something. Didn't know what, didn't care. Was just feeling that angry 80s sense of righteous indignation and loving it.

Pat switched places with Flock of Seagulls (yeah, I'm working on that...) as I approached my nemesis. I told myself that I didn't care if I reached it. Today was the workout that jumped from 6m run/1m walk to 8m run/1m walk. Yeah, Runner's World didn't even allow a decent incline. They just went straight for the jugular. I had time to reach it, but I was completely worn out and was not willing to run up any more inclines. Using a line from an article as an excuse, I slowed down. But dammit, I reached that behemoth...and I conquered it.

I dragged myself along, passing my worthy adversary, that ominous Pole, with time to spare. After getting a decent distance away, I was sick of running and punk-jogged until the timer ran down.

As the theme from Rocky rightfully serenaded me to the top of that incline, I looked back on my adversary, the Pole, and threw my fist in the air in a manner that would have made John Hughes proud.