Running the Numbers
As I entered the spring of 2012 I knew my schedule wasn’t going to allow me to train for or travel to races this year, at least not during the summer. So I made a decision early that this would be a fun summer. This would be the year I could get back to the joy of my sports and not feel the pressures of meeting a training schedule.
What a relief. At last I could take my time on my runs. I could stop to rescue a turtle or pause to watch a deer and her twin fawns. I could go back to pick up the baby bird in the road and set it safely in a hollowed stump. Hell, I could sit on a rock and paint a picture in the sand if I wanted to…this was my ‘fun’ summer.
Now don’t get me wrong. I still wasn’t ready to give-up my Garmin. Even though I wasn’t worried about my mile splits or my average pace I still wanted to know just how much I was enjoying my runs as a reflection of my time. Does that make sense?
Now I knew my numbers would be affected. I knew that impromptu stops to smell the wild flowers were not conducive to speed records. I fully expected my minutes per mile to rise like a slow boil in a pan of ramen noodles. But what I didn’t expect was the exact number they rose to.
So just last year I could carry myself for a few miles comfortably at a 7:38 pace. The thought now gives me shivers a little, but it’s true and I was pretty proud. Now I go out for my normal six mile run at exactly eight o’clock every morning and every mile my Garmin beeps at me with my mile split. And do you know what that mile spilt is almost every time? It’s 911! I am not kidding!
And just so you know, I leave at eight o’clock because my husband leaves for work at exactly nine o’clock, so that would give me plenty of time to get hope and slap him on the donkey butt as he headed out the door.
But now that my morning runs have turned into more of an escapade with Diego. And I spend more time picking up trash and petting dogs, I find I’ve been arriving late to my home. How late you ask. Exactly eleven minutes late! That’s right, I get home at 9:11am.
I’m not superstitious and even if I was I am not sure what it would be that my Garmin is trying to tell me. Is this ‘fun’ pace going to lead to an emergency? Or maybe every time my mile split pops up at 9:11 it means I have a new animal rescue…I just need to go look for it…it’s probably in the woods somewhere and I should go for a hike rather than run.
I went looking for answers on Google. ‘What does 911 mean? I asked’ and unbelievably, I found the answer!
According to wiki.answers.com: (The words in hyphens are mine;)
In numerology, you reduce numbers into single digits. So 911 becomes 9+1+1=11
(OMG! 11 is my lucky number! My birthday is 2-11… same as Burt Reynolds btw.)
11 is one of the master numbers. (I am a master! I have a dog!) It is one of the few numbers that is not reduced down to a single digit (I can’t be reduced either!).
The 11 is also known as the psychics number, it’s the most intuitive of all numbers and it represents illumination and deep insight. The 11 is also very sensitive, charismatic and inspirational. (Okay, ya got me there. I don’t know what all that’s about.)
I’m not sure where this column is going. All I know is that I am a runner. I like numbers. They tell me how I’m doing and I can’t avoid analyzing them even if I have agreed not to. What I will say is this, according to my mile split times…I’m having a pretty fun summer.