let's make this personal.

let's make this personal.

• 10.11.2012

Today, I’m swallowing my pride.

Have you noticed I don’t post times with my race recaps? I never talk about how fast I ran during training runs. I don’t talk about swim splits or average mph on the bike. Me and the clock, we don’t get along.

I should probably back up here and say that I’ve only done a handful of races. I’m in no position to complain about my results. I just started this whole endurance training thing. But I’m competitive. I train and train and train and train and then I race. For me, I need the end goal of racing. I love the thrill of knowing I’ve worked so hard to be there. I like waking up early for a run or ride with the purpose of getting faster for my race.

I expect to see results. Fast. Like yesterday. If I could run 10/min miles on Saturday then I should be able to run 9/min miles by next Monday right?

No, wrong. I know that’s wrong. But every time I look at results from a race, I compare. I stare, dwell, fume, plot over those results. I look at the other people in my age group and wonder if I’d just tried harder, swam more, sucked it up a little more, could I have beat them? Things get personal. I become spiteful.



Me and last place are really bonding these days. We’re getting to know each other really well.

For awhile, this was discouraging. I know, it should be fuel the for fire. But it wasn’t. I just made excuses. I told myself I’d never be “fast”. I should have probably stuck with golf. Who was I kidding? Endurance sports obviously weren’t my thing.

But when someone finds out I raced a triathlon, do you know what they say? “Holy crap that’s amazing! I could never do that! Wow! That’s so impressive! You’re so awesome!”

They don’t ask how fast I went. They don’t care what place I came in. They are nothing but kind and supportive.

I’m my own worst enemy. I’m competitive. I want results. I don’t want to be in a relationship with last place anymore. So, we’re breaking up. It’s going to be a bad one. It’s going to hurt a lot, this break-up. There will be tears and sweat and possibly blood. But I’m over it. We’re done.

So, here’s to second to last place. I’m coming for ya.