I am not supposed to worry about results in a race. I am supposed to think about the process. Think about the here and now rather than the outcome. Sometimes my pride gets the best of me. I am competitive with myself and others and I want to win the game. Plus, I like prizes. And attention.
I like to check out who I might be competing against. It's another bad habit - along with thinking about the results - that I do before each race. I cannot help it. It's an obsession. So, last Monday, I checked out the participant list. There were three people in my age group. Sweet! Barring in crazy mishaps, I'd probably make it on the podium. Right?
On Wednesday, right before online registration closed two new women signed up in my age group. Misty Brown who I have put on a pedestal for many years (that girl can go!) and Roxy, another fast woman I've been chasing for years. Time to step up my game.
On Sunday, I joked with Misty about hating her guts. Which is impossible. Not only is she fast, but she's funny and talented and energetic and yes, I wanna be like her when I grow up. But, I sent fake hatred her way. I was feeling pretty optimistic. I knew I could hang with the three top women (Misty, Cee and Roxy) on different parts of the race, and if I could pull together a great all-round effort, I'd be close.
Then, up walks Melia.