Running: "Sorry, dude"

Got slapped in the face by reality tonight. I was running around the lake, and couldn't shake a guy who was running right beside me, then just a bit behind, then just a bit ahead. I cast aside my intended easy pace and blew past him with about 2 miles to go. It was a bold move because I had 3 "20's" on him - 20 pounds (at least), 20 years, and 20% body fat. But, I kept up the pace and when it was safe to sneak a glance over my shoulder, he was nowhere to be seen. I kept pumping; the endorphins were flowing. I rounded the last curve around the lake; my car was in sight.

Then he came out of nowhere and passed me like I was standing still.

He finished the run, and jogged over to join a group of equally gaunt LSU students. The cross-country team, perhaps? I walked over to him, and said with a smile, "I thought I had you back there, but you were just playing with me, weren't you?" He looked up at me, pausing from his post-run stretch, obviously incredulous that I had presumed to think that I could pass him for good. "Sorry, dude."

I laughed, said "nice run", and jogged off with the sound of muffled sniggers behind me.

Oh, well. It was still a good run.