Sometimes, the best race of all is the one that isn’t a formal race with numbers and timers. Sometimes, the best race of all is the race where you’re just out for a run and you look to the side and see another runner and you think, “this is it, let’s throw down.” The race is usually in your head, but when they decide to join in you just know it. You can tell.
And then it’s game on.
Maybe they annoyed the shit out of you by cutting you off and getting right in front of you. If you’re gonna pass me, you gotta pass me all the way. Or maybe you saw that they were racing you first, and you’ve been trapped in this leap frog pattern for the last half a mile. WHATEVER. I did my fastest mile ever this way. Some skinny blonde chick cut me off and I was like, “oh fuck no.” I slammed on the proverbial gas pedal and shot out in front of her. Yes, I almost vomited when it was all said and done, BUT I WON.