Baristing

I ran a 17:50 5K yesterday, which, as ever, is a time that is completely specific, and yet not the least bit informative without additional context. Running is weird that way. You ran what you ran, and that's it. But it's not, not really, because though the time is the time, the time is also not the time. It's the sum of previous experiences and expectations, and as such, functions more as a point in a narrative than a data point in an algorithm.

So, I ran that time, which is a faster time than I'd ever run before. It strikes me, at once, as the sort of time a "real runner" might run, but only might, because it's not that fast. Not really. Not now that I've done it. That too is the nature of the hobby. Times are immutable and ephemeral all at once.