enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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SSSSSSSSSSSSS

Weary but happy.

I'm going to Italy in three weeks!

To drink good wine with handsome cyclists!

Cyclist!

Oh well! One is better than none!

Very busy at work. I stayed late. My rhythm wasn't there early in the day but I'm back on track now. Phew!

A very funny thing happened today. Anyone who has been following my relationship with the senior economist will know that it hasn't been peachy. I've learned to keep him from annoying me by simply stroking his ego sufficiently to keep him (generally) off my terrain.

So I must confess that I did something today that doesn't necessarily paint me in a great light. :) For whatever foolish reason, the senior economist decided recently that he wanted me to join him on his twice-weekly noontime runs. Today was the first on the schedule that I could attend.

OK, I thought. I am not in my best shape at the moment, but there is no doubt that I can keep up with this guy over four or five miles. (He's younger than I am, but he was a soccer player and a bit heavily set.)

Now this has nothing to do with my ego. If I really wanted to compete anymore - and I don't - I would certainly select people who would be fair competition.

So the run starts out nice and briskly. He's clearly trying to lead me through the traffic to the bikepaths, in the lead so that he can impress all of the colleagues strolling out for lunch. I'm running easily, no problem. Biding my time. Heh heh!

By the time we are down at the river I'm hearing him start to pant. It's getting ugly. I stay with him, chatting all the way (since that is EXTRA, EXTRA annoying when you're struggling :)). We go up the hill. We cross the second bridge. We start climbing the final long hill. No problem. We start cruising through the downtown, me taking it easily so that he can keep up. And then he starts to pick up the pace for the last (a bit less than a) mile or so. He starts pushing. And pushing. Clearly he wants colleagues to think that he has kicked my not-even-sweating butt.

I couldn't help myself. Do forgive me. I wiped the pavement with him.

And oh man it felt sweet.

I do not like it when men mess with me in my sport.

He messes with my work all of the time. I think that Fifi would enjoy this.

I hope I was justified. :)

In my defence, when a colleague in the office asked if I had beaten him I said that it was nice to run with man who doesn't have an ego about these things - doesn't try to race me - when so many men do. The senior economist was present. Everyone smiled and congratulated him.

Win-win, I think. No?

HA HA!

(Yes, I can be immature.)

8:33 p.m. - 2009-04-16

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