Run Your Race

I went running after work the other day. Nothing special.

As I've gotten older, I've conceded that warming up slowly can help prevent me from injuring myself.? I start by walking a couple hundred meters, then jogging slowly, before settling in to run.? My warmup route follows a path by the East River in Manhattan — I take the path up about a quarter mile to where it ends, then turn around and head out.

On this day, I?noticed an enormous barge coming down the river toward me —? pushed by a tugboat.? The river current was against them, and I could see the water swirling around?the?bow of?the?barge as I ran towards it.

Approaching the?end of?the?path, I realized that by coincidence?the barge and I had arrived at that spot at nearly exactly?the?same moment.? I was dead even with?the?bow. ?

"Hmmm," I thought as I made the?turn.? Interesting.

Now I was running in?the?same direction as?the?barge, side by side.??The?barge was slightly faster than me, but not really.? If I picked up my pace, I could keep even. ?

And now of course, it's on.??

A?Race.?

I started pumping my legs harder.?

We ran together.? I could feel?the barge next to me, but I looked straight ahead.? I was small.? The?barge was a giant. ?

It was definitely ON.

I felt 12 years old.?

Exhilarating!?

A scene from?the?movie Breaking Away flashed through my head.? The one where Dave Stoller, the?main character, raced his bike on the highway — following a semi truck.? And the truck driver giving hand signals indicating how fast Dave was riding.? Four fingers — forty miles per hour.? Fifty.? And finally, sixty miles an hour!? I was a super slow motion version of Breaking Away.

I sneaked a?look over at?the?barge.? Still even!? My heart was pounding.? I was pretty sure I could hold my pace.

The?59th Street Bridge came into my view — I decided the bridge would be our finish line.? I had a steep hill between me and the?finish. ?

I ran on.? Past dog walkers, bike riders, and baby strollers.? I ran my secret?race.

I thought about whether anyone on the?path noticed what I was doing.? I wondered whether anyone on?the?tugboat understood what was happening.? That it was a?RACE. ?

When was?the?last time I ran a?race, anyway???

I reached?the?base of the hill.? Up, up I went — sprinting faster than I've run up a hill in a long time.? I was surprised when I got to the top — I was breathing hard, but not wiped out.? I had time to stop and get out my phone, taking a photo as?the?barge pulled past me in second place, heading out to New York harbor.

For?the?rest of my run, I felt light.? The?exercise.? The?sunshine. The?"Competition." And the?silly fun of a contest that a child would make up.? These lifted the weight of all the troubles bothering me, just for a little while.?

Sublime.

I thought about?the?coincidences that led to my?race.? That if I had taken a few more seconds tying on my shoes, or done a few more stretches in warm-up, or needed to wait a little longer at a stoplight before reaching?the?path.? Any of those would have disrupted?the?barge and me from intersecting at exactly?the?right point in time.?

I thought about?how the stars had lined up just right that day, giving me my unique, special event.? A race.?