It must be something about Saturdays, but my friend Pavlov took control of me again this morning.
I heard the much quicker steps coming up behind me. I noticed my stride lengthening a bit, but I didn't increase my cadence - too obvious.
Then a young lady cruised past me fairly effortlessly. I thought, "She's too fast for me".
My pace quickened and I found myself maintaining the distance between her and me. I wasn't thinking, "I must catch her", honest.
After another quarter of a mile she started to slow a little and I couldn't help myself, I went past her and maintained the pace.
But it gets worse.
Further along I spied another runner ahead of me. He went down a road that I hadn't intended to run down. Guess what, I went after him and overtook him at the bottom.
There's no denying it. I can't say I'm not competitive, but why do I do it?
I think it's probably reminding myself that I am good enough as I am. Although why overtaking someone I've never met in my life before does that, I don't really know.
I will definitely have to keep Pavlov locked in the house four weeks tomorrow when I'm pacing other runners in the Tunbridge Wells Half Marathon. It wouldn't do to race the people who I'm helping to achieve their goals.
Thinking about it, helping others achieve their goals and dreams actually beats competition by a mile (no pun intended) for me as a sense of satisfaction, so I should be fine.
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