Lazlo's Running Lament

From February 23,2006:

I remember running with [Sladed] and Phil nearly every day at La Jolla Shores; from the pier to the Beach and Pig Club and back to the pier. I suspect this was one mile each way. We would jog (pronounced "yog," I think) the first mile, talking and attempting to plant our feet at just the right angle to splash a little sea water in the face of a tourist. On the return mile, our collective competitiveness would kick in and, without saying a word to each other, we would race the last mile.

I don't know what went through everyone's mind, but I know we stopped talking to each other and began a game of seeing who could get out ahead of the other. Then it was always a final sprint to the end. I think Phil won most of them because he had that running track kind of gait about him, but [Sladed] and I always pushed him. Oh, and did I say the run was usually after swim or crew practice?

After we had to get jobs (unfortunately), we ran less and less with each other. About two years later, the three of us met up at the beach and decided to do the usual run. On the second mile, I actually got winded and was certain I had a horrible medical condition. Surely if I couldn't sprint the second mile without huffing and puffing, I had to have cancer, right? At least that's what I thought. I know now that I was just getting only a little bit out of shape.

Imagine (especially [Sladed] and Phil) how good of shape we were in that we don't even remember feeling winded after a two-mile race. Do you think we can get there again? No? What if we used cars or one of those Segways?