The Day My Ego Almost Killed Me

That is, today. 
For the past I don't know, but it is more than 4 years it has been a 4th grade tradition to take the kids out the track at the end of the day and have them run/walk A Mile a Day in the Month of May. 
(catchy, aren't we?) 
Basically, we send 'em out to the track, and give them a time period in which to make 4 laps around. Even walking at a s  l   o   w   pace, every child can get 4 laps in. and i have seen some SLOW ones. 
Anyway, every year we giggle because the students see where we are standing as they approach (yep, same spot every day...) and as they round the corner, they bust out as fast as they can for the last 20 yards as they pass us. 
As soon as they pass us? They stop, gasping for air. And repeat. 
For fun, I'll jump in for a lap or two and pace them, race them, or just visit as we jog. 
Today? It was Ego vs. Sara vs. Student


I see a student, and go flying out onto the track. He sees me and starts sprinting. I speed up. He looks at me and says, "You'll never pass me."


My response? "You won't make it to the first corner and I'll take you down." 


We give each the LOOK (something like, I AM NOT GOING TO BE BEAT BY A TEACHER or I AM NOT GOING TO BE BEAT BY A 4th GRADER) and start sprinting faster. Other students come up by us for several yards, laugh, then drop off. 


I'm beginning to wheeze a bit here. Yeah, I am a slow twitch, not a fast twitch sprinter. (Okay, fine, my sprint isn't really a sprint either, more like a Boston runners race pace going into the wind on heartbreak hill low on fluids with a bum knee and chaffing issues.) 


I'm thinking, "How much longer can this kid GO!? I am going to faceplant here soon." 


He speeds up. (Reminder: See what the kid eats for lunch tomorrow and copy.) 


I speed up. 
We are headed around the last turn, full out sprint, and I am nearly dead. I think about running into the fence on "accident" to save face- yes, that was one of my saner thoughts. 


As we take out, he gives me one last look, pulls ahead...and stops. 
"You got me." 


I give him a high five, congrats, and continue to trot back to the start line. 


Where I stop, wheeze, and gasp for air. My coworker asks, "Should I go grab the defillibrator for you?" 
and I am all, 
"YES. But? I was not beaten by a fourth grader." 
That's right. H-E-L-L-O ego...I can't beat anyone in my own age group, so I'll kill myself taking down a 4th grader. #irock


Let's hope he doesn't want a rematch tomorrow.