Four-Minute Mile

So, when I was about 15, I had this boyfriend named Tony. Despite the fact that he was a pathological liar, I thought he was really cool. After all, he played the guitar and had longish hair, a maltese cross earring and a motorcycle. But about these lies. They were ridiculous and seemed to have no purpose. I believed most of them because I was extremely gullible, and I wanted him to be for real.

One of the crazy lies he told me was that he could run a four-minute mile. I believed him. Of course, at the time, I had no idea how fast a four-minute mile was. Now I do.

While I'm sitting here waxing nostalgic about losers I've dated, I am actually getting to a point, and this story will be loosely tied in somewhere. 

The thing is, I've been running, see, which I already admitted. Up until last week, I was just going out and running for 20 minutes. I had no idea how far I was running. But I've  stepped things up a bit since I've decided to run a 5K. 

The fateful day is June 18. It's funny that I never would have ever imagined myself running a race. Somehow, though, now that I've raced my bike so many times, racing in another sport doesn't seem like such a leap.

So, for my past couple of runs, I have concentrated on running continuously for three miles. Turns out I can do it, just not fast. In fact, I am absolutely nowhere near a four-minute mile. But at least now I know how fast a four-minute mile is. 

How (not) fast am I? I might tell you in my next post. Then again, I might not.