the difference is negligable.....ooh, wrong thing to say, buddy!

I love my husband. Let's just make some stuff clear. He's the reason I can train as much as I can and run as much as I can and can take the time to do everything I do that helps to keep me somewhat sane.

That said, he did something yesterday that made me consider going a little off my nut on the poor saint.

This weekend I was offered an entry into the Midsummer Night's Race in Toronto , as part of the iRun Magazine Team. I ran the race last year, 15k in the horrid heat, and found myself all but passed out under the awards table at the finish, hoping that the fuzzy white haze I saw wasn't a mystical light looking for me.  So this year, with free entry, all I needed to do was pay for parking and head to Hogtown to redeem myself (and get a pretty spiffy medal to boot).

I'll skip past the part where they could not find my name on the participant list, where I spent 2 hours watching tv on my iTouch on the grass waiting for the race, where I discovered I hadn't eaten since 10am and Shot Blocks weren't a good meal replacement.

I hooked up with the 2 hour pace bunny, mostly 'cause she was the last bunny on the course, and because I could not remember how long it took me last year. She turned out to be a lovely woman who was 4.5 months pregnant, and therefore was just 'taking it easy' at the 2 hour pace. I figured 'no biggie, I can trail a pregger'. Oh, bear of little brain.

Made it 10k with the bunny, then started to lag behind a bit. Kept plugging along as the group loped into the sunset of the Leslie Street Spit.

Put on my music for the first time in the race, put my focus on the finish, and ran the rest as best I could. Granted  I stopped and took a couple fast photos (as someone behind me said, while also taking a snap, 'not like we're gonna win this thing".)

This year I finished upright, stayed upright, didn't see fuzzy white lights. Managed to drive myself home to Hamilton afterwards (stopping to take a silly photo on Yonge Street).

Next morning I'm comparing my times from 2011 and 2012

midsummer Night's run
Time 2:06:59.3
Pace 7.1
Aug 2012 15k

Same race last year:
Time: 2:08:44.7
Pace: 8:35

I turn to my sweetie and ask him to do the math for the difference. He says 'oh, it's negligable'. In my head I start to feel very very horrible about what until now I thougth was an accomplisment.....

BUT I WAS FASTER! I'm MORE BETTERER than last year!

Then I realize, he's not a runner....he's just doing math, and a two-odd minute difference doesn't seem that much when you've run 15k. Realize when I've stopped being sad that I might need to exlain why saying that is the equivalent to agreeing that my butt DOES look big in those pants.

Sometimes I take myself too seriously ;-)