Tuesday, November 6, 2012

But sometimes I still like to be front and center

My last post about fading into the background is absolutely true for the vast majority of the time. Every once in awhile, however, the "old" me shows herself. Yesterday and today are two examples.

Story 1: Facie the Competitor

Some guy at the pool yesterday: You have been swimming a really long time. You must be tired after all those laps.
Me (slightly annoyed): No, I have done only 10 (which took me about 12 minutes, which is not a long time).
I swim more laps and notice the guy looking at me as I am swimming towards him.

The guy: Do you want to race me?
Me (after my jaw drops): I might swim a lot of laps, but I am not fast. I then swim away, wondering if I had traveled back in time and am at some junior high camp. I continue to swim my laps and actually consider racing him. After all, I used to be quite competitive. And I just finished about 24 laps and still have energy for more. He is of average build, closer to thin, but he keeps taking breaks after a few laps. So I am thinking I can take him! I swim back towards him.

Me: How old are you? I think you have an age advantage if we race.
Guy: 26.
Me: I am 40, plus I am a woman, so you definitely have an advantage. But what the heck; I will race you.
Guy: I never would have guessed you were that old.

We proceed to race one pool length in the junior Olympic-sized pool. I swim about as fast as I can, without paying attention to my competition. I end up touching the wall about a stroke and a half before him. I immediately raise my arms in triumph, let out a "whoop" and brag about how the 40-year-old beat the 26-year old. I inform both the 85-year-old guy who regularly swims at the pool and the hotel manager of my accomplishment. I am pretty sure they think I am nuts. I am anything but gracious to the guy, but considering that about five minutes later he tells me that he wants to dump shampoo in the hot tub to see what will happen, I don't feel so bad. 



Story 2: Facie the Center of Attention

Last month, I blogged about how I ran in a 5k. I was pretty proud of myself, particularly because I discovered hours after the race that I had ended up in third place in my age group. I emailed the race director, who after looking into it informed me that although she could not explain why/how it happened that I did not get recognized at the ceremony, I did in fact earn third place. She offered to order and mail a medal to me, and I considered telling her to not to bother. But the "old" me, who has not had a trophy or medal in years, instead thanked her for doing so and told her I would be happy to pick it up. I also said I would like to bring my friend Diane, who was there for me on race day. The medal came in last week, and today they had a little reenactment ceremony for me.:-)




I am pretty sure after today I will (mostly) go back to fading into the background, which is fine by me. But it was kind of nice to have it be all about me, the winner, for a couple of days.

5 comments:

Kristen @ Motherese said...

You go, girl! (I think I see a triathlon in your future.) :)

LaLa said...

The swimming story is SO funny. Maybe that guy was hitting on you?!! Plus congrats on the medal and ceremony. You totally deserved it. Nice thing that race did.

Facie said...

Kristen: Thanks. But I am not much of a bicyclist. If there was a biathlon maybe...

LaLa: I told an abbreviated version of that story on FB, which seemed to be enjoyed by many. Both the hubby and someone on FB thought that guy was hitting on me too. Seems odd to me, but what do I know.

And, yes, it was nice the school did that. Made my day several times (when I found out they were going to do and when I actually went).

bluzdude said...

I think the young guy was definitely hitting on you. I bet before he learned you were married, his line was going to be, loser buys drinks.

Nothing wrong with kicking a little youthful tail. Well done! Take your medals where you can get them!

Facie said...

Bluz: Perhaps. I guess I will never know. I don't complain to understand men, particularly when I have been out of the dating scene for so long. And thanks. If I were at my old job, I would probably have worn that medal to the office one day. :-)