29:05--What I think was my 5K time yesterday. They hadn't posted the slowpoke standings by the time I finished my banana and water and headed to the car; and I'm tired of waiting for them to post the official times on the web. I'm pretty sure 29:05 was what I saw on the clock as I ran by, and that would be nice because...
5--is the delightfully precise number of minutes my time improved from last year's 34:05.
9:23--my new mile pace, down from 10:59 of last year's 5K and 11:12 of May's Spring Lake 5.
34--my "safety" time to beat.
32--my realistic goal time.
30--my "dream" goal time. This means, of course, that I get to celebrate the achievement of my dream goal for approximately five minutes and then face the fact that my dream goal was not fantastic enough.
10--the number of K I agreed to run with my friend MB on December 9. Why, I ask myself, why?
1--the number of theaters in my rather broadly defined geographical "area" in which the extravagantly recommended (in the blogosphere) movie "Once" is playing. The one theater is on 12th street in Greenwich Village, which I wish I had known when I was in New York last Friday.
Approximately 15--the total number of minutes it took the plumber to light the pilot light on the furnace and fix our running upstairs toilet.
85--the number of dollars I expect to pay for above services. At least now I know how to light the pilot light in the future.
over 300, 10, and 1--Not-so-little-R.'s blood sugar (which prevented him from running), S.'s seconds over her best time, and the number of times M. vomited at the XC meet yesterday, all of which I obscurely and irrationally feel are my fault for missing the meet to go to my own race.