Three quarters of the way through my running race at Hanover High School a couple of weeks ago, I sighted my target.

I had tried to remain non-competitive in the race. I signed up to help myself stay in shape and support the athletic program. I didn’t want to get too caught up in things.

But I could see him. I knew I had some energy left in the tank, and he looked like he had trouble maintaining his pace. I had a chance to pass him.

I had to keep a steady pace though. I have only taken part in a couple of races in the past – both back in high school – and neither ended well.

My school sponsored a triathlon during the spring of my junior year. Since I wrestled year round, I thought I would have no problem. I didn’t expect to win or anything, but I knew I could handle the course.

They set it up so we ran first, then rode the bike, then did the swimming in the school’s pool. That would stagger the number of people in the swimming phase so the pool didn’t get too crowded. The way it turned out, I pretty much had the pool to myself.

I found the bike ride more difficult than expected. My first clue came when the leader – a guy I grew up with – whizzed past me as he completed his second lap of the course. I was struggling through my first lap.

At some point, I pulled a muscle in my shoulder which severely limited me in the pool. I only finished because I knew how much grief I would get at school if I didn’t.

My other race would have turned out better if I hadn’t finished. I ran a 10K in Baltimore the same spring. It hurt. A lot. All over. When I got home, my feet hurt like never before.

I had had to hustle to my girlfriend’s high school graduation – she went to a different school close to an hour away. The problem was, my feet were swollen and would not fit in my shoes. By the time I got the swelling down, got dressed and made it to the ceremony, I missed seeing her walk across the stage.

In the end, that’s not a big deal, but getting hurt twice in two races made me realize I needed to run just to stay in shape, not to win prizes. I couldn’t accept that philosophy, however, as I got closer and closer to my rival.

With each step, I gained some ground. As we rounded the traffic circle at Hanover Middle School just a few hundred yards from the finish, I made my move. With a song blasting in my headphones, I passed him and said, “I thought I’d never catch him.”

His Mom laughed. I knew she was pretty happy that her 5-year-old had kept up with her for almost a whole mile. I hope she didn’t feel bad about me chasing them down.

At least I didn’t hurt anything this time around. Except that little guy’s feelings. I hope he can handle the disappointment and shame.