My recent race with Granny showed me something about myself, something most people would never guess about me, but something I'd long suspected: I am competitive. I am an athlete.
I have always known that I like to work out. In fact, I love to exercise. I love working hard, pushing myself. As long as there are no sit-ups involved. I hate those, and I have the tummy to prove it. I don't even mind sweating, which is a relief, because I am a sweater! Ask Nora. She always tells me how much I stink when I get home from a run or a ride. As you can imagine, I love her for this.
I have always loved standing at the start of a race, butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach, waiting for the gun to go off. I love passing my competitors, jockeying for position, before settling into a groove. Since I don't race bikes, I can't claim to have experienced any of this on two wheels. I have, however, done several long, organized rides and while, clearly, none of them were races, I found myself behaving as if they were. I've found myself wanting to skip the food stops (not always a good idea) because I don't want to waste precious time. I've found myself pushing hard up the hills, driven by a desire to pass people, and get to the finish, in a respectable time. (respectable, being a very subjective word here) I've even caught myself, looking back on rides trying to figure out how I could have ridden faster, stronger. None of these revelations could have surprised me more.
However, simply enjoying exercise, enjoying hard physical activity, does not a winner make. Of this, I am a perfect example. For, I never win. Never even come close to winning! Yet still I strive: to do my best, to PR, to beat the old ladies up the hills and to the finish line.
I have always loved standing at the start of a race, butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach, waiting for the gun to go off. I love passing my competitors, jockeying for position, before settling into a groove. Since I don't race bikes, I can't claim to have experienced any of this on two wheels. I have, however, done several long, organized rides and while, clearly, none of them were races, I found myself behaving as if they were. I've found myself wanting to skip the food stops (not always a good idea) because I don't want to waste precious time. I've found myself pushing hard up the hills, driven by a desire to pass people, and get to the finish, in a respectable time. (respectable, being a very subjective word here) I've even caught myself, looking back on rides trying to figure out how I could have ridden faster, stronger. None of these revelations could have surprised me more.
However, simply enjoying exercise, enjoying hard physical activity, does not a winner make. Of this, I am a perfect example. For, I never win. Never even come close to winning! Yet still I strive: to do my best, to PR, to beat the old ladies up the hills and to the finish line.
Isn't that what being an athlete is really all about?
That and sweating a lot?
That and sweating a lot?
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