I spork about the Helvetia Half

I have always been a competitive guy. It was never easy for me to lose growing up...and I seldom did. Particularly in athletics...I had the drive, the will to defeat opponents who were taller, stronger, faster, more talented...that was true in baseball, basketball, golf, tennis...I simply would not lose. Suppressing that competitive fire has never been easy.
Numerous times when playing basketball, for instance, and often I would play 1 on 2 or even 1 on 3, often against a pair of guys from the varsity team...and beat them easily. A few times I sprained an ankle during the game. Rather than admit defeat by forfeit...I would complete the game. And win. Because of my competitiveness.
That competitive firs extends to every portion of my life. For instance, when taking tests, I take it personally if someone finishes before I do. As stupid as it is, that really bothers me. I take pride in knowing the material so well that I instantaneously have the correct answer and am able to put it rapidly to paper. Same goes for reading. I blaze through the material lest someone else finish reading first.
As I have mentioned here several times, I see this competitiveness as a personal flaw and have been working hard to reign it in. One of my deliberate attempts is my willingness to leave spelling errors in these posts, believe it or not. And I have been doing much better. Last Sunday, for instance, I lost every game of cards I played...and it did not bother me a bit. In fact, kind of liked it. All of which has what to do with the title?
Well, the Helvetia Half-Marathon IS a race. I have no idea what is on the line other than pride. Then again, what was on the line when I played Kyle or Billy or Ivan or Aaron, etc.? And...while I am not fit or fast enough to WIN the event...I could certainly have placed fairly well if I wanted to. Over 2200 people ran the race, and if I ran the pace I typically do on my solo long runs, I would have finished around 600th, give or take a few places. Not top athlete, by any stretch, but certainly nothing I would be embarrassed about. About the top 25%. Finishing with lots of people in front of, around, and behind me.
And it was sort of hard not to. Because I could. And because of events near the finish line. For instance, past the 12 mile marker, a pair of walkers passed us. One of them asked how far a quarter mile was.
"You ever look at a map?" I asked. "And if so, were you eating a cookie? Because if one of the crumbs fell on the map...that was your 1/4 mile."
She laughed, then they slightly increased their pace as she said, "and this is me passing you."
At the moment I was running backwards in an attempt to encourage Em to pick up her pace a little bit...so I replied, "I've got this" and proceeded, running backwards, to blow them away for about 2 or 3 hundred yards. Then, just as I was spinning to sprint the rest of the way, I remembered...in this race, I was not competing against other people, I was competing against myself. And to help someone.
So I not only slowed down, I ran back to finish alongside Em. And it may not sound like it...after all, how exciting can it be to finish 2212th as opposed to 2214th? But that was very, very difficult for me personally to do.
But I was not done competing. Coming down to the finish line, they were naming the names of each person who crossed. It occurred to me to actually slow down so that Em would cross first and hear her name. Yes, even there, right at the end, you have no clue how difficult it is for me to allow even one more person to finish first. but I did. The records might show I was one of the last people to finish...but I really came in first in the only competition that mattered. My competition with myself.
My competition to stop being the lone wolf doing everything by and for myself, to behave as part of a running TEAM where the accomplishment and performance of my teammates was more important than the scorecard and the comparison of my abilities with those of other people. My competition to do the best I could, to obliterate, competitively speaking, those of lesser talent and ability. That competition was incredibly difficult. I have never been good at the team concept, the idea of relying on others and having them rely on me. I always want to make every play, perform every function, to BE the team.
So as dumb as it sounds, the race for me came down to staying the pace of someone a little slower than myself, to letting people beat me, to staying back the last mile, and letting someone finish 3 steps ahead of me. And that race I won.
I know I often mention changes I have made or am making here, but there is a purpose to that, even if only for me. Sometimes I forget what i was like or where i was, and it is often helpful to remind myself of why I do what I do and why I change what I change. And this change...this is one I am proud of and don't want to lose. So here is to the PDX Marathon and hope I am able to continue my newfound team spirit.