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How to Get Instantly Faster Overnight — Guaranteed!!!

I know what many of you are thinking – it sounds too good to be true, but I have discovered a way to get dramatically faster in a single night – simply by going to sleep! That’s right. I got faster in a millisecond WHILE I SLEPT!

How exactly did I achieve this magnificent metamorphosis? Well, I can’t say for sure, but it was back in April sometime, right around my birthday… about midnight if I recall correctly. I was tired from a long day at work and looking forward to getting a good night’s rest. I went to sleep, age 49, but as the clock struck twelve, a crazy thing happened.

Suddenly – and with virtually no additional effort on my part – I got faster! I was no longer a slow 49-year-old, but a surprisingly peppy 50-year-old! There were no special exercises to learn or protein shakes to drink, no track workouts or long tempo runs. The whole process was so insanely easy virtually anyone could do it! All that’s required, as far as I can tell, is once – every five years or so – you lie down and close your eyes. When you arise, you’re a veritable speed demon! Who knew?!!!

For reasons still unknown to science, in the micro-instant one gets older – at least in increments evenly divisible by 5 – you are catapulted into a whole other age bracket altogether. Somehow, this seems to affects one’s legs and mitochondria on a cellular level. DNA may actually reconfigure and mutate, but so far this is just conjecture.

In my case, the change was immediate. Gone were Gigs and Harold and a hundred other guys – most of them complete strangers – who could kick my ass without breaking a sweat. Back when I was slow, in my late 40s, I’d come in 15th, 20th or more in my age group – a wannabe with nothing to show for his mighty efforts.

But now, through a strange tear in the space-time continuum – a quantum leap effect heretofore unexplained, I’m faster than ever. While I am not able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, I am able to earn tiny plastic trophies for doing exactly what I did before. My PLP says I’m a bad-ass where it once said wuss.

Strangely, I don’t feel that different, but somehow, someone (or some thing) has graced me with fairy afterburners to make me zoom like a rocket. How else could this transcendental transformation have transpired? I don’t normally believe in magic or angels or training, but clearly I’m now much, much, much, much faster. Once again, who knew?!!!!!!

I’d say it’s all been glorious, but the truth is there are certain pitfalls to having additional natural gifts bestowed on you suddenly without warning. First, you start to believe your own press. This is insane, because deep down (and pretty close to the surface, too) you know you’re exactly the same person you were the day before. Really the only thing that’s gone up is your ego, not your ability. Time is still marching on and eventually it will rob you of your speed, not increase it.

There’s also some guilt. I find myself bragging about winning my age group to friends, never mentioning my age or that I’m beating guys in their mid- to late-50s (and losing to guys in their late 40s). Still, if those 59-year-olds can hang on a few more months, they too can go to bed and get IMMEDIATELY FASTER OVERNIGHT! Oh, the joy they’ll experience if they can just stay in bed a few hours more without having to pee due to their severely weakened prostate. Let’s face it; there aren’t a lot of perks to aging beyond moving up in your bracket, so we might as well enjoy it while we can.

Besides, it’s just a matter of time before my old nemeses return. Gigs is only a few weeks younger than I, though luckily we rarely run the same races. I have just another year before Harold rains on my parade again and who knows what other frisky 49-year-olds are out there waiting to celebrate the big 5-0?

In 6 months, I’ll be a whopping 51 and it’ll only get worse from there. Where impish magical elves once added extra speed in a night, gremlins will come and slowly sap me of my strength in that crafty way they do – a little at a time – so little I won’t even notice it ebbing away. My race times will soon evince a clear pattern of descent. I’ll wake up one day with aching knees, PR free times and a fat, sagging PLP, listening to Springsteen’s Glory Days over and over.

Oh, well, so be it. Best to celebrate victories now, however they come. I’m reminded of what the great English bard and harrier Shakespeare once wrote, though I must confess I’m a writer and a runner and I’m not sure what either the words “bard” or “harrier” actually mean. Shakespeare said once (albeit in two separate plays), some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them once every five years when they go to sleep and wake up in a new age group.

Ah, to sleep, perchance to PR in a new age bracket. Ay, there’s the rub…

Usain-Bolt-Running

 

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