316 miles this month, in the "...out with a whimper" style of 28 miles in the last five days. I thought I was racing a 5K tomorrow, so I rested in preparation for what's going to be ugly regardless, but I learned yesterday while I was 36,000 feet off the ground that the race is actually on Sunday -- it was postponed because of snow.
So in the end, I averaged 10.2 miles a day for the month, and stand at 955.5 for the year. I still haven't missed a day of running in 2017, and while I have no idea what my personal best in that realm might be since I have never been a "streaker," I know I have never gone a full year without missing a day. I sincerely hope this (mot missing any days) doesn't turn out to be my consolation goal for the year. I know that I'm not yet in what I regard as racing shape despite a lot of positive signs since the dawn of 2017, so whatever happens in the next few weeks isn't critical from a results standpoint. But if I am not enjoying a certain competitive standing by early autumn I may be tempted to do what a lot of washed-up old former half-decent runners do and hide out in ultras so I can have competitive aims without doing any real training. (I'm not saying serious ultrarunners don't train like hell -- I know they certainly do -- only that I have never relished the idea of getting better at a running genre solely through endless jogging and slogging up hills.)