I thought I would feel bad when this day came.  Instead, there is feeling of peace, mixed with pride and satisfaction.

You see, earlier today, I lost a real race to my son.  I did not throw the race.  I went all out and gave it my all, but I still lost.  By a lot.  He owned that 5k.  Plus, the other two gained on me.

Yep, in this case, strange as it was, it felt good to lose.

The next generation savoring their race day performance.

For some odd reason, it feels like the 1961 Yankees are sneaking up on me.  Remind me to get their autographs.