I'm not really competitive.
Especially when it comes to running...usually.
Take for instance when I run with my girls, my tribe or any combination of people. I'm happy to be at the front of the pack (if I can) and I'm totally content to be the last of the pack (if I must). When I'm out running with my peeps....it's all about the time together on the road and finishing up with high fives all around. I love going with new runners, old runners (no dad, I'm not talking about you), fast and slow runners. Yes, I've got a love affair with running.
Now, I'll admit, when I was chasing Boston...yes, I was competitive. Fierce, as a matter of fact. And when THIS guy came up behind me and said, "Sorry to have to do this to you." Well, there was no way in hell I was going to let him pass me. (I did thank him for the motivation and shook his hand, even though he'd been totally CHICKED!)
And then there is this little issue of running at the Y, on a treadmill.
Girls...I'm not intimidated by them. I'm just happy to see them. I respect the fast ones (lil' Diane!) I love the little lady that runs next to me sometimes for 30 second spurts with the oddest stride. I even like the young girls who pop in and try to bust out a run....for a whole 5 minutes.
But there is something about dudes. Dudes with BIG testosterone. Which brings me to the look.
Last night. I got the look. Not just the I'm checking you out, but the full on "What speed are you running? Oh, that? Yes, I can run faster than you." Mind you, he had just come over from lifting weights in testosterone-ville. I let him continue with this nonsense for a few minutes. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I became something like this....
Crazed. Totally crazed. And not a chance of being defeated.
Faster? Yes, let's go faster.
Longer? What's that? You can't run longer? Oh, pobresito. Take a little break. I'll still be running at THAT speed.
Yes, I went a little psycho at the Y last night.
And it was good my friends. Very, very good.
Ha! Love this! I totally get the "I'm not competitive, except when ..." persona. I am truly not at all competitive (which makes me a lousy partner in any sort of card game, just sayin') EXCEPT when some guy (be it family, friend or stranger) tries to pull a macho, guys-are-better routine. Boy howdy, bring it!
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