Ask me how fast I was going!

On a recent trip to Napa, I discovered the Napa River Trail - a beautiful place for a four-mile walk. I found an access point and headed north from Kennedy Park. After about 2 miles, averaging about 18.25 minutes/mile, I stepped on the gas. Up to this point, I got "good morning"s or "hello"s or a nod from other trail users.

I did mile 3 in about 13.25 minutes, five minutes faster than my last 2 miles. Now I was getting smiles that said, "How cute. Look at that little old lady trying as hard as she can."

After I turned back for my final mile, I was heading into a slight wind and I was really huffing and puffing. I passed a couple of trail users I had passed earlier and now the smiles were like "I see you" and "Respect!" I stayed to the right to allow others to pass. Soon, a group of bikers came along all wearing their brightly colored spandex shirts. They were chatting idly about this or the other trip to Europe, presumably a biking trip. None said "hello." None said, "On your left." None said, "Respect!"

Yes, I was walking. But I was killing it.

Finally, my watch indicated that I had finished my 4th mile. The bikers - maybe 20 of them - had already passed me by. I glanced at my watch to see how I finished. When I saw the time, I thrust my hands in the air like I had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. Yes!

I texted Hubby that I was finished and would meet him at our rendezvous spot. As I arrived, I found the bikers taking a break. They filled the trail and said nothing as I worked my way around them to a shady spot where I could stretch while I waited for my ride. I was on one side of a road facing the bikers. They were on the other side facing me. 

I wanted to shout at them, "Ask me how fast I was going!" I imagined they would all shout back, "How fast were you going?" And then I would tell them. And then they would say, "Good job!" Or, "Nice work!"

It wasn't my fastest mile but it was pretty dang fast. And I was feeling good.