Saturday races are becoming a normal custom around my house.  Up way too early in an attempt to get myself ready.  I carry the kid to the car in her jammies.  Her breakfast is usually tossed into the back seat as we drive to some familiar part of town. Hopefully we are on time for once.  It is a bit stressful, but it isn’t bad and it definitely isn’t the worst part of my morning.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining.  I enjoy 90% of the race…well lets knock that down to about 83.6%.  I enjoy seeing the PRS crew.  I get my Saturday run in without the excuses that derail my runs on non-race days.  I show my daughter the importance of exercise in her life.  And I REALLY do love to run…even if I am snail slow.  So, what is it that accounts for 15% of my misery? (I’m a historian…we delight creating random percentages.)

The gate. The start. The beginning of the run.  I HATE IT!  I think I would rather endure a regularly scheduled TSA airport screening then the first few minutes of the race.  I would feel a little less harassed by rubber gloves then sprinting 8 year olds. It isn’t nerves…I’m more nervous waiting for the start of Wednesday night intervals, but there folks have manners.  That is really what it boils down to… etiquette and my frustration with my fellow runners.  I usually feel so guilty and annoyed that it takes me the first mile to calm down enough to enjoy the run.

I’ve begun to list and categorize the types of folks who drive me a bit batty.  Don’t worry the names have been changed to protect the innocent.  From the “Kids” who start out at the front of the pack to “Mr. Sprint Starter” that always seems to fade like a Independence Day sparkler there are a thousand different sins we all grumble about.  In fact we are often the reprobate.  How often do we bob and weave like Muhammad Ali to shave a quarter of a stride around a curve?  Even when chasing a PR we should all remember our kindergarten lesson to be nice to our friends, keep our hands to ourselves, and no cutting in line.

The truth is we are often a start-gate sinner.  We all start out too fast, cut our fellow runners a little too close, and get a little too competitive for a happy Saturday morning experience.  The problem is that we forget that the race, in some ways, is really a chance to slow down.  We all spend our lives in a world growingly disconnected and uncivilized.  Maybe we’ve forgotten that a race is really about supporting our community, our fellow runners, and ourselves.  So let us all pledge to take a deep breath, step away from the starting line, smile, take of your hat during the National Anthem, and remember your manners.  Just like an airport screening it will all be over soon.