I just this very a.m. signed up for the July 4th Revolutionary Run in Washington Crossing1, PA. I ran this race last year — it was my first and so far only 10k, and, at the time, it was the longest race I'd run — and I was relatively happy with my performance, but my relative happiness was pretty much a foregone conclusion since my pre-race goals were:
1. To actually finish (<--Note split infinitive!)
2. To actually set (<--SPLIT!1!) a PR (to achieve which all I had to do was accomplish goal one.)
Yeah, I like to set the bar high.
I accomplished both goals, running the 10k in 55:14, which is an 8:53 pace.
So this morning I went for a training run and I managed to run 6.8 miles in exactly one hour; which is an 8:48 pace.
I would be happy if I could replicate that pace at the Rev. Run.
But this year, I have only one goal:
1. To finish
Because I'm NOT shooting for a PR because STOP PRESSURING ME!1!
1 When I was a little Pennzer growing up in NE Philadelphia, we used to go for picnics in the park at WC, and we called it "Washington's Crossing" because it was the site from which Washington launched his troops across Teh Delaware. His (possessive) crossing.
And when he got to the other side, he was all "GAHHH1a!1! I'm in fucking JOISEY!1! Get me back to PA before I end up like those douchebags on Teh Joisey Shore!1!"
And he turned around and went back to PA, the pussy, which is why we're still under the oppressive yoke of British colonial rule to this day, and it's also why our teeth are so bad and we eat things like Spotted Dick1b, because the Crown's taxes are so high we can't even afford to buy Undiseased Free-Range Dick.
But my point is, the place's true name, inexplicably, is Washington Crossing — non-possessive. Makes no fucking sense to me.
1a Few people know that Geo. Dubya'ton is originally from San Diego. But the "GAHHHH!" is a dead giveaway.
1b With a side order of sautéd n*ts@ck and a cold SploogËnBraü to wash it all down ... and take my word for it: You're gonna need something to wash that shit down.