I’m wrapping up a big job, a 249 unit apartment building with its own pool room, drive out basement garage, stadium seat theater, gym, yoga room, massage room and room for a dozen or so retail stores. Folks, it’s Texas big.

So we’re down to our last week and we’re punching the last units before we pack up and move on to the next one. I was on the second floor, to touch up the finish behind the washing machine in a unit and the superintendent walked around the corner. I’d been talking with the painter while I was waiting for the super to unlock the door. So the super hollers something at us, but from more than 300-ish feet away, he was impossible to understand.

I jogged down the hall to hear better what he had to say….

So he starts in on me about if I think I’m fast and out of left field he challenges me to a race down the corridor.

See, the superintendent is younger than I am, by eleven years. By racing him, I have nothing to lose – if I win, I win. If I lose, I’m an older man… so I accepted.

We lined up, with the painter about a football field away. I looked over at him and reminded him that he was racing an old fart. The painter raised his arm…. and dropped it.

We were off! I was slow off the line and about a foot behind. A hundred feet in and I was up to speed but the super was fast. Still, I was right with him. And then it clicked – I went from pushing to more of a floating stride. Those who run know what I’m talking about even if I didn’t do a great job of describing it.

Just at that second, the superintendent said, “Let’s go” or something along that line in an attempt to throw me off. I put the hammer down. In three strides I was even with him. Three more and I was in the lead. He actually said, “Shit” as I pulled away and left him in the dust.

I couldn’t believe how well everything clicked at that halfway point. It’s been five years since I last ran with any want to so I expected to be really slow (usually it takes a couple of weeks to loosen up the legs so they work right).

I’ve felt like I lost a step or two since I hung the running shoes up. It was really nice to feel the rust shake loose within that 150 feet. Too cool, man. I still have it.