This discussion has reminded me of something that happened to me when I was around 15 years old. Though I wasn't a jock, I did participate on the track team for a year, as a javelin thrower (I wasn't very good at it).
Well, one day at a big track meet, my coach apparently neglected to assign enough runners for a relay race, and told me I would be running in the anchor position (I think that's what it's called... the last guy on the team to run) on a relay race that required each runner to make a complete lap around the track. I had never run a race like this before. When the guy running before me came around the track, it wasn't a very smooth handoff of the baton, but I managed to get it, and off I went.
And did I ever go! I breezed past the other runners like they were standing still, and I felt extremely proud of my apparent newly discovered running abilities.
Then my legs started to feel tired... a little at first, then very much so. To my horror, I realized that wasn't even halfway around the track, and that I had made the amateurish mistake of not pacing myself properly. The other runners calmly and steadily passed me as I struggled to keep up. By this point, there was really nothing I could do... I had already blown all my energy in my initial sprint, and simply slowing down wasn't going to undo that error.
A little more than halfway around, my legs were feeling like they had lead weights strapped to them, and I found myself "running" at a speed roughly equivalent to a moderate walk, gasping for air, legs virtually numb, and feeling like I was on the verge of passing out. Glancing over to my left, I saw that the other runners were nearing the finish line.
Of course, this only compounded my panic... not only was I killing myself trying to get around the track, I had to do so knowing that everyone else had already finished, and that all eyes were on me. It really was a nightmare! I eventually finished, but by then, everyone had left the stadium and our bus was loaded and just waiting for me (well, that's a slight exaggeration, but that's how it felt at the time).
Just a funny story I thought I'd share.
--Mike
I have raced my X, the only sailboat owned. First I just comparitively raced, i.e. the other boats not aware of the race. Later, my first one-on-one race was with another X a 97. Having badly beaten the 97 the racing idea became a passion. I have raced perhaps 8-10 organized races now. Some with a majority of Macs in the fleet and some when I was the only Mac or X. I have never finished 1st except over other X boats but have a couple 2nds with other boats.
