Did you see me just there? No? It’s probably because I am so fast now. How fast? I ran the third fastest mile anyone has ever run last Friday: Seven minutes and forty seconds. The only people who have run faster miles were on steroids and cocaine and running from mobs and also were named the Flash. They had too much adrenaline, so it’s not fair to make their times comparable to mine. They are almost in a different category all together. I’ve gotten off topic.
Let’s get back to the main point of this blog, and that is how fast I am. I am really fast. Did you want me to type the time out numerically instead of letterically? Okay: 7:40. Outside. In mild heat. In the pouring rain! With tornadoes everywhere! And the streets were littered with mooses!
Really though, running isn’t nearly as bad as I’ve made it out to be over the last all of the years of my life. I actually somewhat sort of enjoy it. It’s nowhere near as awesome as drinking or playing a videogame for fifteen straight hours, but it’s slightly more satisfying and helps me inch ever closer to being a super hero. One day, I will finally have the speed to vanquish all evil (six minute thirty second miles vanquish evil).
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