Interesting epiphany today. It looked like a lovely morning to ride my bike in to work. And it was. There’s a steep climb that parallels I-520, and at the “summit” is an intersection where bikers gather, waiting for the light to change. I’ve always viewed myself as a bit of a fraud … an athlete wannabe. I apologize for being in the way, scoot over … give all the “real” athletes the right of way. Well, today it pissed me off. One of the serious bikers, in full-on racing gear, tried to cut me off. We made eye contact, and I gave him “the look”. You know – the stink eye that moms give their children when they’ve gone too far? He yielded.
I thought about this on the ride home, and starting thinking about the things I’ve been able to accomplish with my imperfect 51-year old body. Three triathlons. Bike MS. STP. The breast cancer three day … twice. Fourteen 5Ks. A 10K. Ten half marathons. The survivor mud run. A 35-mile hike to climb Yosemite Half Dome. Hiked Hanakapi’ai Falls. It really is remarkable how your head controls your body. Tonight, choosing to think of myself as an athlete made me feel strong and powerful. I got in to a rhythm that shaved about twenty-five percent off my typical time home. I know I’m not the only one that races on, feeling like an impostor. But you’re not. And neither am I.
