Humbled

Gasping for air, I fully recognize my endurance has suffered by resting a relentless IT band issue. A racing heart compliments my rapid breathing as I console myself while gazing at the trickling mountain stream and the few remaining leaves bravely clinging to the trees.  But, I suddenly hear footsteps from behind and quickly spin.
Steadily approaching is another trail runner.  I estimate him being at least 20 pounds lighter than me and around 10 years my senior and I give a courteous hello that triggers no response.  Noticing no ear buds, I determine he's either deaf or a chump.

Right or wrong, I attach the chump label and tell myself that there's no way he's going to beat me up the mountain.

We hit a steep section and I labor while keeping his red tank top in sight.  Bit by bit, he's creating distance as I struggle to stay within eyesight of him. The trail dips into areas of trees and winds up to the summit where I only catch glimpses of him.  As he passes a large rock, I hit my stopwatch.  Upon my reaching the same rock, I glance down and notice he's 40 seconds ahead of me.  He hits the top and turns to head back down.

"Who are you?" I ask as he rushes past me.  He stops and talks, but it's a very foreign language and I shake his hand as we both smile at one another.  He takes off and I tell myself I can catch him on the downhill.

Thundering down the mountain, I see no sign of him.  Assuming he took a different fork in the trail, I still keep pushing myself.  I catch a glimpse of red through the trees and push harder.  He passes another landmark and I hit my stopwatch.  Twenty seconds later, I pass the same landmark and quickly calculate I cut his lead in half. 

My left IT band reminds me it still isn't healed as I push harder and probably look, and sound like, a water buffalo in labor.

The trail hits another ascent and I catch his red shirt zig-zagging up the trail.  Hitting my stopwatch again, I soon see he's pulling away from me with a full minute lead.  Unseen by me, I forecast his cresting the second summit and I eventually stagger to the second summit and remind myself it's time to cut his lead.  I suggest to myself that I can pass him as we rumble down the mountain while returning to the trail head.

The eastern slope is barren and I periodically see him zipping across the mountain's face.  I tuck my chin and push harder.  My next sighting is the red shirt sailing towards the parking lot and I hit my stopwatch.

Two minutes and thirty seconds later, I run in the same spot.

That may not sound like much, but I equate that 150 seconds as a good, old-fashioned ass whoopin'!

Sometimes it's good to humble someone, but sometimes it is even better to be humbled!