The Race

I scored a first place in this weekends Potty Olympics this morning. Feels good to finally place in the Men's Constitutional Run. After a brisk walk down the dock, I hit the ramp in good form, staying focused and leaning into the incline from low tide, only to see competition heading for their respective ramps at full stride as well. I was in this heat with four competitors, and I had the outside lane. I had some ground to make up if I was to secure a seat in the top three. To my disadvantage I had on a pair of flip flops, which as anyone on a boat knows, is not the proper footwear to be on a steep incline with. I gave it a little side motion and started to jog up the ramp, but I did not want to give away my desperation to make up ground away to the others. This would only encourage them to do the same. No one likes to appear to be in a rush in this race.

At the top of the ramp I had a lead, and pulled out the phone to give the illusion of a casual stroll to the clubhouse and instill doubts as to my final destination. With phone in hand I started sport walking and poking at the screen at the same time. I was now in third place, with the slightly portly fellow now trailing and losing confidence. Two of the competitors picked up on my surge and put their heads down and started pumping their arms. The race was on!

I was overcome with the feeling I had lost when the lead guy was unable to step around a large woman with a cart entering the ramp. So long sucker! Two runners left and it looked like a secure third place, only if all the spaces were available. First or second almost always guarantees a successful seating. I felt my second wind coming and pushed harder. All three runners converged at the narrow walkway to the clubhouse, a dead heat!  I had the corner position and was unable to see someone in the path to victory coming the other way. This person demanded room and took up the whole walkway, but being relatively small in stature and width, I was able to flatten myself along the clubhouse wall and slip past, while my competition waited patiently for the slow walking, Hawaiian shirt wearing sloth to exit the walkway. Pocketing my phone and punching in the combo to the door lock, I opened it with a grin as I took a look back at my competition, only to catch a glimpse of a parrot infused shirt tail exiting the walkway. I let the door close behind me, poor sportsmanship on my part, but if I held the door, and the first door knob I tried was locked, I know the bastards would slip past me to secure one of the others, leaving me stalled at the finish line.

Crowned the winner, I took my rightful place on the throne, and checked Facebook for updates.

Cheers!
PJB

Poor sports they were, the losers of this weekends race as they stood grumbling, swearing and pacing in the hallway. After several minutes of waiting, they eventually took up residence in the ladies rooms.
Hey guys, maybe that breakfast burrito and extra large coffee wasn't such a good idea after all, eh!