My Race

The weirdest thing happened today. As you may know from an earlier post, I walk from work to Penn Station in NYC. So as I was walking to catch my train, some random guy that I passed two blocks earlier was now power-walking past me. This is a strange occurrence for me because I normally walk fast enough to blow right by everyone else on the sidewalk. So seeing a previously passed stranger walk right by me invoked my competitive side. But I stopped myself. I thought, "He couldn't be trying to pass me because I passed him. This is New York City; nobody cares what you do." This rationalization subdued my competitive spirit.Until he looked back.His 6-checking made me take notice of his body language. I noticed that his body was bouncing everywhere; his head was not straight, his feet could not maintain a straight line; his breathing was heavy. He was clearly not used to walking at that speed. I started to rethink my rationale. Then, as if on cue, he looked back at me again.Oh, it is so on.Our impromptu race extended from 28th to 30th streets. I know, not the longest footrace, but it was still fun. I actually felt sorry for this guy. He might have felt insulted when I passed him so easily. Let me be clear, that was not my intention. I just wanted to get to my train on time. No matter the reason for his now aggressive gate, he was in trouble. From his walking style, I could tell he was moving as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint. Yet I was only moving at about 75% of my fastest walk. I started speeding up and he noticed. He did a little sprint-step every time I got ahead of him.Now this guy was about 6' 2" and I am 5' 9". So physics tells us that he would win because of his longer legs. Little did physics know, my childhood was spent trying to keep up with my 6' mother and brother. So my stride is unusually long for my height. Also with every step, he got more and more tired. This sprint just turned into an endurance race. All I had to do was outlast him. But I got a stroke of luck.As we were approaching the crosswalk for 30th street, the walk signal turned red and cars were approaching. However, I was able to cross the street before the cars were able to to hit me. The other guy, I can't say the same... No, he didn't get hit. I just heard him curse while I breezed through the intersection and he got stuck.As I am composing this and riding the train back home, I contemplate how I can prevent this sort of thing from happening again. Perhaps I can wear a sign on my back stating, "I am not trying to offend you. I am just that damn good."Hmm... Something tells me that might make it worse.