Hard Boiled Eggs and 23 Minutes

When I first embarked on this crazy running ride, I had one short term goal: to run a 5K race in less than 23 minutes.

My first 5K race this month was kind of a disappointment because I ran it in slightly over 24 minutes. Sure, it was also surprisingly exhilarating, fun, cold and wet, a chore, an annoying early morning run -- but I am pretty disappointed with my time.

Maybe you're reading this while thinking, "stop being a baby. I would kill to run anything at 7:49 pace." I agree with you. Maybe I am being a baby. Maybe I should be happy. After all, I haven't run regularly since 2002. I only started running two months before the race. All things considered, it was an okay time and I should be happy with it.

However, regardless of how quickly (or slowly, in my case) someone runs, it's always disappointing when they feel like they have left something on the table.

I encountered a similar experience late last night, as I was trying to make hard-boiled eggs. Because I am a completely inadequate and impatient cook, I managed to undercook them. I hate undercooked eggs with a vehement passion.

In this analogy, my first 5K was a hot egg. Yes, it looked delicious. But I found out that it was a runny, yoky little bastard when I opened it.

Now I have to step up to the plate and run like I'm capable of doing. My new goal is to drop a sub-23:00 at the Hot Chocolate 5K in November. Ring the gong because here I come!