Sixteen seconds. That’s all.
In truth, it’s not a lot of time.
It’s approximately seven tenths of a percent of the time I ran in the Parkrun two weeks ago, but it’s a very important period of time. For it is by a margin of sixteen seconds that I set a new Personal Best on that same course this morning.
A very dear friend told me this morning that your PB (look, I’m even learning the lingo!) is an obsessive thing. You know it and it knows you. There is strife and hardship in beating it, and once you have, a new one sits there, bright and shiny, asking to be beaten.
Naturally, I’m not in the slightest bit irritated that said friend lapped me just at the end of my second, her third, and that my brother wiped over a minute off his previous best. No, these things pale in the joy of knowing I took on the clock and won.
Reading back over this, I wonder if some mania is beginning to take hold. Before you know it, I’ll be wearing the proper gear, spending more on my trainers than I do on a pair of work boots, and special high visibility clothing so motorists can clearly see where I am as I present a moving target.
Or maybe it’s perfectly natural. I took on the challenge of running this 5k thing, now it’s a new way of keeping me plodding on. It certainly seems to be working because I’ve been doing this for the last five weeks, and only the Walsall Social Media Surgery next Saturday morning is keeping me from making it six on the hoof. I can’t say I feel any better for it yet, but I might have the use of my legs back by Monday morning which is considerably quicker than the first time I did it.