If you consistently run a seven minute mile or faster, congratulations! You are a cheetah. You enjoy a healthy slice of massive pain in all your runs, and occasionally it would be more convenient (and less messy) if you ran in an adult diaper. You are nuts, or quite possibly Kenyan. Luckily you can often be found on the ground in agony shortly after a race or else we'd never catch up long enough to put a medal on you.
You can't catch m--- ow!!! My hamstring!!!
If you consistently run over a seven minute mile but below an eight, congratulations! You are a pronghorn antelope. You also enjoy a healthy slice of pain in all your runs, but not to the point where you crap in your pants. Be careful those age group medals don't get tangled up in your horns.
I'm ready for my medal now, Mr. DeMille.
If you consistently run an eight or nine minute mile, congratulations! You are a lion, a Thomson's gazelle (all other gazelles out of luck apparently), a wildebeest or a springbok. Take your pick! There are many of you out there. You often medal in your age group, and on a particularly good day (and age) you get the first place spot. Great job! Tthe rest of us like and admire you. Except when you whine about being slow. Then we hope a crocodile gets you at an aid station.
I am a springbok. Don't judge me.
If you consistently run over a nine minute mile but not quite a ten, congratulations! You are a thoroughbred. Told you there was a horse involved! You constantly push yourself to do better and as a consequence those fragile little legs can suffer injury. Take it easy on yourself! Remember that most of you will not get to hump all the mares you can handle in your post-race career. Many of you will end up gelded instead. But there's still a lot to do in the world other than mares, so keep yourself healthy enough to do it without bionic parts.
I'm a wildebeest, and I am born to run. Literally. Google it.
(Like you didn't know what a thoroughbred already looked like.)
If you consistently run a ten or eleven minute mile, you are a Cape Hunting Dog or an elk. Yeah, I didn't know what a Cape Hunting Dog was either but they're cute little suckers and apparently rather speedy. So congratulations! You're smack dab in the middle of the pack -- appropriate for a Cape Hunting Dog or an elk -- and make up the bulk of any race. The true penguins aspire to your achievements. You probably want to be faster, and we wish the best of luck to you on that. We'll miss you, as you were the closest runners we could actually see way up ahead there.
We are Cape Hunting Dogs. We're very cute, meaning we'll probably eat you.
Are there still runners behind me? Are there???
If you consistently run between a 12 minute mile but under a 15 minute mile, congratulations! You actually are a penguin! On land, you are slow. If you were in the water, you'd be one fast mother, able to swim up to 40 miles per hour, but clearly you chose the wrong sport. But that's okay! We penguins run for the love of running. Because we are nuts. And quite definitely not Kenyan. There'd be more of us, but they're all annoyed by the others whining about how slow they are. While they're a mile or so ahead of us in the race.
I will kick your ass in the water. Just don't ask me to run to get there!
If you consistently run a 15 minute mile or slower, congratulations! I'm thrilled to see you out there. You're behind me, but you're out there, and both of those things make me happy! You are a sloth. It's not as bad as it sounds. The sloth moves slowly not because it is lazy but because one of its main predator is the eagle. By moving slowly it avoids being killed and eaten. So good job you! Also, you're cuter than those Cape Hunting Dogs.
I'm slow so that the photographers have enough time to always get my good side.
And now, courtesy of the TeamPenguin website: You might be a penguin if...
...you have to politely (for the third time) tell the men in the police car moving behind you that no you do not wish for a ride.
...you wear your jog bra on top of your singlet. This is especially true if you are male.
...during a race, you keep turning around to see if there is still anybody behind you.
...the rest of the pack is out of sight before you have run 100 yards.
...you meet both the hare and the tortoise running back towards you doing their cool-down after a race
...the only reason you don't drop out of a race is that you are embarrassed that the police in the car behind you (closing the course) will see you.
...as you are rounding the corner onto Main Street and the finish line, you overhear the announcer on a microphone to the crowd of 500 saying "We are assured the young lady is coming in!" (Oh well, at least I was young).
...you recognize all the regular runners on your favorite route from behind.
...you get passed on the uphill by a runner pushing a double baby jog stroller.
...you shoot a 24-shot roll of film during a marathon.
...you make arrangements for a late checkout at the hotel.
...you are more worried about the porta-potty lines than the start line.
...your support crew talks about meeting you for supper, not lunch.
...you have to memorize the route because you know that you will lose the back of the pack.
...the truck picking up the cones is pressing on your behind. (Don't laugh - this actually happened to me!)
...as you pass a course volunteer they ask you, "How many are behind you yet?" and you say "Behind me? Behind? Gosh... I think two... Unless they turned around!"
...the awards ceremony is over before you cross the finish line.