Passing with Grace
Last month I did a duathlon out at Lake Bryan. All you students of Latin will correctly deduce that the duathlon includes two disciplines in the same event: running and cycling. This event started with a 5k run (3.1 miles), and then had a 20 km bike (12.4 miles), and then, just to keep the funmeter pegged, another 5 km run. In the course of the second run, with a little over a mile to go for the whole race, I passed a guy who looked to be in his early twenties. He had his tri-suit unzipped down around his waist and his socks betrayed some affiliation with the U.S. Navy. The guy, his powers of observation undiminished by his race effort, glanced over at me as I was passing him and said, “Ah, it doesn’t matter, you’re not in my age group.” Hmmm. Good sportsmanship and shortness of breath kept me from saying the things that I thought the rest of the way to the finish line; things like, “Really, homeboy? I’m not in your age group so it doesn’t matter? I’m more than twice your age and I’m decisively passing you on the run and you’re OK with that? I have tattoos older than you and I’m beating you like a rented mule and that’s what you say? It doesn’t matter? Those grapes are sour anyway?” As it turned out, by passing him I beat him for 4th overall (it was a small race), so it’s not like we were finishing 20,843rd and 20,844th in the Chicago Marathon.
So, is there a right way or a wrong way to pass someone or be passed by someone in a race? Is there a right or wrong thing to say? Oh, yes. I think so. First off, in the case of “Mr. Chill” in the previously mentioned example, he’s perfectly within his rights to not care how he runs against anyone outside of his age group. If it doesn’t matter to him that he just paid an entry fee to not race as hard as he could, that’s his business. I know pride is an antiquated concept. I might think it extinct if it were not for the people with whom I race bicycles. But for me to race as hard as I can, fully conscious of friends of mine (like Rich Werschel, who died of a massive heart attack working out) who can’t do this anymore, is a true blessing. So it does matter - to me. So if he can’t muster a “Good job, man” as he’s getting passed by someone, he needs to just shut his pie hole.
The opposite of “Mr. Chill” would be “Mr. Macho” who will blow himself up scrambling to try not to let a woman pass him. The phenomenon of being passed by a woman in a race even has its own verb: chicked. I.e, “I got chicked by Fred’s girlfriend about a mile into the bike.” I’m as competitive as anyone, but I can say I have long, long gotten over having any shame about getting chicked. My wife’s an athlete and I figured out a long time ago that if a woman is passing me, she trained harder and smarter and is willing to hurt more and, bless her heart, she deserves to beat me. Rarely do I do a road (running) race or a triathlon, though, where I don’t see “Mr. Macho” just about turn wrongside out to try to keep a woman from passing him. It’s uglier than a bowling shoe. We don’t have a proud history in this area, guys. Just do a search for “Katherine Switzer+Boston Marathon” and see attached photo.
So repeat after me: “Lookin’ strong,” “Great job,” “Keep it up,” “Way to go.”
There, you’ve got it.
