The race for Richmond

This morning my train ran parallel to another one for several kilometres – I felt like I was in a Cadbury commercial.

After watching the people in the other train for a bit, I was tempted to make a sign saying "Race you to Richmond!" to hold up to the window for them to see, but I dithered about it for too long. Every time we started to get faster, I’d think I’d do it, but then we’d slow down again and they’d start to overtake, and I’d change my mind.

For some reason, some people, myself included, feel compelled in this situation to check out who was doing what in the other train. It’s like when dogs pass each other on the street. They check each other out. Motorcyclists do the same thing too, nodding acknowledgement as they pass. And I never noticed it before I had kids, but kids in prams do it too. They always check out the other kid.

So as the trains raced, and weaved back and forth, we all put on our coolest expressions behind our sunglasses and watched the other people watching us.

We beat them. But then, they beat us into the City Loop. Let’s call it one all.

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