Spurred on by the Nike commercial below I started speaking in SPARQ language yesterday – which while extremely annoying to everyone in my office, was probably a big relief to my girl Xtina who I’ve been talking to in lolcat language for the past week. Christina iz not lik when iz talkz like catz. (I’m seriously obsessed with these things.)
But really how fast is my fast? This has been the main question on my running mind for the past month. I know my fast is fast. Not like my boy Worku Beyi's kind of fast. He has a fast that’s faster than fast. Elite kind of fast. My fast just ain’t that fast. In that context my fast isn’t even really that fast at all. Even at my fastest my fast is just faster than the fast of most peoples fast who aren’t that fast. Well, to be honest I’d say that my slow is faster than most people’s fast, but considering this city’s slow is pretty slow having a slow that’s faster than slow people’s fast isn’t really saying much about my fast at all.
But my fast has been getting faster. My fast is currently probably as fast as my fast has been since college – and in college my fast was pretty fast. But the point remains that while I know my fast is fast and getting faster I still I have no idea how fast my fast is.
I got a peak last night when I had to book it from Midtown to the Chrystie Street track, to avoid being late for the Bridge Runners. But it’s hard to take much from tearing ass through the city ducking and weaving through pedestrian traffic and gridlock.
The only real way to find out is to enter a race and put the fast of my fast to a test of fast. Looks like that might happen on April 13th – but I don’t know yet, and I’m going to have to decide – fast.