Running for Form

This week, I ran 10 miles for the first time, and I did it at my best pace ever - 9:36 / mile. I have discovered a new technique that has been working quite well for me - I pass anyone who I can't stand to see run. To be fair, I have no idea if I have good running form or not. For all I know, I run like Elaine dances. I do know that I can't stand to run behind someone who just doesn't look like they are propelling themselves forward with any sort of efficiency or even any sort of muscle control at all. Here are some examples:

1) The Arm Flailer: There are really two sub-sets to this category. The people who hold their arms up like they are doing the doggy paddle or their arms are just useless like those little nubbins on a t-rex; and the ones who's arms hang down at their sides as though they are completely useless. Those people look like chickens, leading with their heads and their ass's are at least a foot behind. I keep expecting them to cluck.

2) The Sweet Valley High. These girls are gorgeous and lithe and look great in their tiny running shorts and bra tops, but they run like they have yet to refine any of their motor skills. Their legs are all over the place, as is the rest of them, like a noodle being flung against a wall to check for doneness. I am afraid one of these types is going to trip over her own feet (or maybe even her own arm) right in front of me and I will fall ass over tea kettle on top of her.Of course, if anyone stops, guess who is going to get the sympathy first? Maybe I should get a tiny bra top...

4) The Gossip Girls. Granted, it's fun to eavesdrop on the latest slutty thing Debbie did, or how successful the surgery went on poor Cindy's teacup poodle, but these girls are usually running triple-wide and are too absorbed in their riviting converstions to scoot over, even with my repeated (polite!) notifications that I am "ON YOUR LEFT". I am a huge running safety advocate, and I hate watching someone basically put themselves in the path of cars, bikes and wild cayotes from sheer inattentiveness.

3) The Lumbering Clydesdale. Nothing against Clydesdales, I've seen some big guys run very gracefully. Mainly, I can't stand think I am slower than someone who easily outweighs me by 200 lbs, so I am compelled to pass them. The hell of this type is that inevitably, they pass me three miles down the road. But then I have a new goal - to pass them again - so I guess it works itself out.

Well, that covers my pet peeves for today. Not bad for someone who is basically a virgin runner. I am sure I will refine my list of irritations once I have a marathon or two under my belt. Stay tuned.