It was an early September day, cool and bright and just right for running, and I was in the first few miles of a lO-knownmile race over a course with a few high hills. Still, I felt energetic; despite the hills it was going to be a fine run. Just ahead of me was Peggy Mimno, a teacher from Mount Kiseo, New York. She too was running easily, moving along at my speed. The pace felt comfortable, so I decided to stay where I was; why pay attention to pace when she was setting such a nice one? I'd overtake  her later on when she tired. So I ran behind her. The course headed north for miles, wandered west for a hilly mile, then turned south again along a winding road. The race was getting harder. We had four miles left and already it was beginning to be real work. Peggy overtook a young runner. She seemed to know him, for they exchanged a few cheerful words as she passed him. Their exchange worried me. You don't chat during a race unless you feeling good, and Peggy plainly was. Still, I was close enough to overtake her if she tired, so I didn't give up hope completely. We were getting nearer to a long, punishing hill now and it would be the test. We were a mile from the finish line, so whatever happened on the hill would almost determine who crossed it first. As I moved up the hill, my attention wandered for a few minutes. When I looked up, Peggy was moving away--first five yards, then ten, then more. Finally it was clear that there was no help of catching her. She beat me soundly. There is an important lesson in that race. Women are thought to be weaker, slower and not nearly as skilled in sport. Yet as Peggy Mimno so clearly showed, the similarities between men and women runners are more important than differences. I have run with a number of women, and I can say it is often hard work. What did the writer think of the race in the beginning?
It would be hard work. It would be an easy race. It would be a test of his strength. It would be a good learning experience.