Competitive Spirit - Part II

I was in two other races that stand out in my mind (they may have been the only two other races I was in - I don't really remember). One was in Boonville - beginning and ending in Harley Park; the other one was in a near by town though I do not remember the name. The second one stands out because I won a medal in my division - over thirty or thirty-five. Of course, there were only a few of us in that category, but that was all right; I still won a medal. My grandson Julian has it now; I usually see the medal at some point during a visit to his home.

The Boonville race stands out in my mind because my dislike of being "put down" by men became evident during that race. One of my favorite songs in those days was "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" by Helen Reddy; I didn't like the chauvinistic attitude prevalent at that time.

The Boonville race was a relatively short one; probably about three miles. It's fairly common for persons to gauge their running by another person. One finds a person who runs at about the same pace and then tries to "keep pace" until ready to make a break for it if that is a part of the game plan. The person I kept pace with was a man I did not know. I didn't choose him deliberately; however, at some point, I did decide to make sure I did not lag behind him.

It became obvious at some point in the race that he was determined not to let me beat him, and I was equally determined to do just that. The race went on like that for quite a while; he would get out in front of me, and I would pick up my pace, catching and then passing him. As we neared the finished line, it was a battle; but I was either a little more determined that he was, or I was in better shape (or younger - I'm not sure). I won our little race (the one between the two of us), but I came no where near winning "the race."

I felt really good about beating him (for a while); then I felt guilty. I didn't have anything to prove; I already knew that he was not superior to me just because he was a man. Also, no one was going to make fun of me for being beaten by a man. I suspect his ego was more bruised by my beating him than mine would have been by him beating me; I also doubt that he was permanently damaged by his loss to me.

I stopped running at some point after that. In some respects, I wish I had continued with it (running) for the sake of getting adequate exercise, which I no longer get. On the other hand, I might be having serious knee problems at this point in my life from the pounding my knees would have taken over the years. Who knows? I enjoyed the running while I did it and the time it allowed me to spend with my son. I wouldn't have traded that for anything.

Blessings to all!