I Like it A Lot

Back from the run, breakfasting on a chocolate granola bar and fruit snacks, I’m exhausted. We ended up running at our own pace, which is good because when we run in formation I always get stuck singing cadence and it’s not my favorite (it is worth noting, however, that I almost always manage to work in something about penis size - it keeps PT interesting). The bad part of an individual run is that I’m obnoxiously competitive and I need to finish in front of as many people as possible. That puts me in the top 20% - 25%. It’s why I’m so exhausted and it goes something like this: we run in formation for about 1/4 of a mile and then, on command, the group breaks up. I pick my pace. During the first mile or two lots of guys pass me. I think they see my bobbing ponytail as the finish line: if they can just get there they will win the race. So they speed past me and in another mile, or sometimes less, I slowly creep back up on them. As I get closer I hear the labored breathing and sometimes small sighs of frustration or discomfort. I pass. The breathing stops. The runner decides this is a perfect time to take a break and walk. They quit. I win. And I like it. A lot.