In preparation for the circuit’s second race of the year, I applied most of the lessons I learned last time around. Didn’t drink the night before, trained like mad in the weeks preceding, made sure I didn’t get sick. And on Sunday morning, the run did feel amazing.

It was sunny and mild, early and quiet, and it started off great. However, about halfway through, my happy little runner’s high was interrupted by two loud men, obviously there to coach some poor girl through the race.

“SHE’S AVERAGING 5:45 PER KILOMETER”

“GOOD.”

“SHE SAYS SHE’LL ONLY SPEED UP AT THE 500 METER MARK”

“OH, OK”

I couldn’t see who “she” was, but I got an annoyingly loud play-by-play of her progress. I was a little embarrassed that they were being so loud, so early in a residential area. At one point, one of them asked me “How you doin’, Lucky Seven?”. I gave him a thumbs up then accelerated away.

I soon forgot about “Pascale” and her coaches. Then I saw the finish line about 700 meters away, and wondered exactly when to push to the finish, and how much to push myself. I had plenty left in me, but didn’t want to die out before the finish line.

Then the annoying voices returned.

“YOU CAN DO IT PASCALE! PUSH IT PUSH IT PUSH IT!”

“THAT’S IT, YOU HAVE TO BEAT LUCKY SEVEN!”

Now why did they have to drag me into it? I glanced over and for the first time, I saw her. She was an intense burgundy color, soaked, and managed an exhausted “ch’pus capable”. Feeling bad for her having to run with those two on her back, I let her overtake me.

But the finish was almost on us, and I still had all this energy. It was all I could do to stay slow enough to let her stay ahead.

So my altruism was short-lived. I always say I don’t run with others because I don’t want my pace influenced. And now, I’m being influenced by a stranger, I thought. Screw it. With the finish in sight, I turned the turbines on full and overtook her and three others.

I’d like to train with others, but I just can’t do it without things like this happening. I can’t just do my own thing. Call it competitiveness, conformity, sociability, I can’t help but see it as a race, one I’ll feel bad for losing, or for winning. I frankly don’t understand how running clubs do it. I really wish things were different, but it looks like my social running experience will remain limited to online forums for a while longer.