Reckless

I had to have a giggle. It just seemed so silly. I met a competitor during one of my recent evening runs, and we ended up racing like a pair of panting dogs.

Running is supposed to be a beautiful - and beautifully simple - sport in the first place. That is, unless we forget. You might want to listen to the story how I sometimes forget.

I whizzed past a young guy that evening. Little did I know that I was sparking a battle. And that is ... yep, you guessed it: he got annoyed and quickly sped up and overtook me. At full throttle. As that guy ran in stride, he kept turning his head back to make sure I was falling behind.

I cringed, waiting for myself to catch my breath. Even if it would have made me sound like a jerk, I ramped up my accelerator and passed him without a polite "Excuse me." Fact is, politeness just doesn't exist when two vicious dogs feel being threatened and challenged. We nearly barked. Seriously. Oh, we would have barked at each other if not because of running out of breath. That's when that rival started to run ahead of me, and I was keeping my pace good enough to be a few steps behind. But not too far behind.

The idea is simple: I could keep good track of how much oxygen (or lack thereof) my competitor got in his tank (and mine, too). Speaking of which, I reminded myself the advantageous position to pierce him with a long-handled barbeque fork.

What a dumb race.

Still, reckless as this example is, it's fun to have such silly idea once in a while. Like me, you'll be amazed at how much you beat your last personal record (and advertise that record to show off in the next few days). Mine is finishing 8.14 km with a pace of 4.4 minutes per kilo that evening, in case you were wondering. Which is cool.