If you really want to find out just how well you know somebody, partner with them in a three-legged race. I found out the hard way just how competitive Tim was.
It all started at my company’s picnic in the summer of 1988. Tim and I had been married almost three years, but we had been together for six.
One of my co-workers suggested Tim and I participate in the three-legged race. We looked at each other: “Why not?” “It sounds like fun.”
Tim tied his right leg to my left one. I wrapped my left arm around his back while he wrapped his right one around mine.
There were two other couples lined up next to us. Tim leaned over and whispered, “We can take them.” That should’ve been my first clue.
“Go!” Somebody yelled.
Tim leapt off the starting line, dragging me with him. I wasn’t expecting that. From that point on, I struggled to keep up with his pace. It was hard since he’s 5’11” and I’m barely 5’1”.
“I can’t keep up. My legs are shorter that yours!” I yelled. What was he thinking? He was making the longest strides he could at the fastest pace he could. I simply couldn’t keep up with him.
Did he pause for a second so I could get in sync with him? Oh no. Instead he yelled back, “They’re getting ahead of us!”
In that second, I knew I was doomed to go down and I did. I went down flat on my back.
Unfortunately for me, Tim had learned how to tie a secure knot while he was in the Boy Scouts, so my leg stayed tied to his. With each step, he literally drug me forward across the ground with his right leg. I am not making that up.
I still remember looking up at him from the ground and seeing the determination on his face. His eyes were focused on the finish line and nothing else.
“Stop! I’m on the ground!” I began to holler. Not yell; but holler. He continued pulling me along behind him.
That’s when I realized just how competitive Tim was. He was so focused on winning that he wasn’t hearing me at all. And he was still so focused on the finish line that he didn’t even realize he was dragging my weight along on each step.
I continued hollering, “I’m on the ground!” I wondered if he was going to drag me all the way to the finish line. Thank goodness we were on a grassy field and not on pavement with rocks. In that case, I would still be picking rocks out of my back.
Finally he turned around and saw me laying on the ground behind him with my left leg up in the air and still tied to his.
Does he check to see how I am? Oh no. He bends down and grabs me. “We’re going to lose!” Once he has me upright again, he wraps his arms around me and drags me to the finish line that way. Again, I am not making this up.
Once we reached the finish line, I had tears rolling down my face. No, it wasn’t from anger. I was laughing so hard that I was crying. The people around us started to laugh as well. And they were surprised I wasn’t angry or upset.
“Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.” Ecclesiastes 7:9 (KJV)
First reactions to situations can be very powerful and set the tone for things to come. If I had become angry at Tim and fussed at him, then the rest of our day would’ve been miserable. Who wants that? Not me.
Besides, while I was being dragged down the field, I envisioned the spectacle of how we must’ve looked to other people. If cell phones had existed in those days, I dare say we would have gone viral.
Needless to say, I don’t play competitive sports with Tim anymore. I let somebody have that honor while I sit back and watch. And I keep my cell phone handy.