From there on out the numbers are a little fuzzier. I kept trying to calculate my pace, but I don’t think my brain was getting enough oxygen. I was having a hard time holding the splits in my head to do the math. It occurred to me that if I had to take an intelligence test at that point I might have scored an 80, tops. I stayed at 6:40-5 pace through 17 when I got to the hills. It seemed like the wind picked up at that point too. Dun dun dun. My pace didn’t slow too much over the first hill, and my 18th mile was a 6:53. I was surprised to see that my next mile was a 6:30, but it concerned me because my racing partner commented that it was probably because that mile had such a steep downhill. “What downhill?” I asked him. I honestly thought that mile was uphill too- not a good sign. That was my last sub-6:40 mile of the race.
The day ended, after many flip cup victories, with me drinking a Blue Moon out of my victory chalice, as it should be.