Girl Power OR What just Flew past me

I have a fond memory of the 2005 New York Marathon.  I’m 385 yards from the finish (the .2 in 26.2) and for some reason I decide that it’s time to sprint.  The young lady next to me sees me take off and joins me in the mad dash to the finish line.  Despite my best efforts and the power I felt from the cheers of the crowd, I just couldn’t take her.  She beat me by a good 10 feet.  Afterwords, she thanked me for pushing her during the final stretch as she had PR’d by about 15 seconds.  “Glad to help” I struggled to say as I doubled over while getting my timing chip removed.

Since that day I’ve had a much more relaxed attitude about ‘beating a girl’.  Turns out, I’m not as fast as I think I am.

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