It appeared innocent enough, really. I might have been joking when I challenged Sahar to a race, but surprisingly, she agreed to it. The stage was set.
I have lost more than a step since I turned fifty and offer absolutely no competition against men my age or younger in a foot race, so I started to find young girls to race and my success rate was amazingly high.
Last time I defeated a girl about forty-five years my junior rather soundly. I was pumped.
So let the trash talk begin.
“Hey, look at this,” I unrolled my trouser and showed Sahar my firm and well-defined leg muscle.
“I am sure you will win,” Kathy assured me repeatedly. I figured she was the one who knew my speed and strength the best.
I made a mistake by playing three on three on the basketball court and exhausted about fifty percent of my energy before the race, but I was still quite confident. The boys and I drove to the Tech campus to race.
Sahar did a perfect cartwheel when she was warming up and my heart sank. It wasn’t a good sign. I had great difficulty learning to cartwheels as a little boy.
I chose Rob to be the judge of the race, which was my fatal mistake. I thought blood was thicker than water, but this turned out not to be the case at all. Romantic love ruled over parental affection. He was hardly an impartial judge, as he became a moving finish line, sidestepping gradually to his future wife while I bit the dust in the first race.
“Not fair! Do over,” I yelled.
I was neck and neck with Sahar the second time, even though my opponent seemed to have jumped the gun and had a considerable head start. Again I lost by a nose, even though Rob kept moving to Sahar’s side and I had to fight for my position by nudging her a little bit as we got close to the finish line, which by the way was Rob’s out-stretched arms toward his fiancée.
I lost both races, and was accused of being a cheater and sore loser.
It was hardly worth it, since at the end I found out I wasn’t as formidable a runner as I had envisioned myself to be and, sadly, I also discovered that I was a big loser as far as competing for Rob’s love was concerned. I could have won had he been more impartial. It was indeed a double-whammy for me and I became rather depressed for the following two days.
6 comments:
That cartwheel was good.
I think anyone can look at the picture and judge for themselves.
Clearly, this race was fixed. If I remember correctly, Dr. Sea wreaked havoc on my team during the Christmas bowl.
hold on, it seems like Sahar is about to win no matter what in that picture
When defeat comes, accept it as a signal that your plans are not sound, rebuild those plans, and set sail once more toward your coveted goal. - Napoleon Hill.
This is just a PRE-race
The actual real race is next year!!!!
If I had played so much as 5 minutes of Bball before the race I wouldn't have stood a chance!
And of course you know Rob loves you! He was just rooting for the underdog. Sadly, even he didn't believe in me!
I was the underdog, not you, to tell you the truth, yet Rob was for you all the way.
In fact, I was happy that you won because it was a test to see whether you are qualified to enter into the Sea clan or not. As you can tell, we are quite an athletic family. I am looking forward to race the other two women who may come along in the not so distant future.
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