This is me. Or, at least, this is how I felt racing in Clearwater. Perhaps the second picture is more indicative of what I really look like at a race, but the top one is how I felt during the 70.3 race this weekend. As some of the Worlds’ best cyclists flew by me after the swim at 26-27mph, my measely 21-22mph seemed like a mere snail’s (or Barbie’s) pace.
56 miles has never gone by so quickly for me, and I’ve never done it faster than the 2:38 I did on Saturday. I will be honest though and admit that it took me a full hour to settle in and to stop comparing myself to the world-class competitors that were flying past me. Interestingly enough, once I was able to let go and just enjoy being “me” on the bike, I flew too. My pace picked up, the pedal strokes seemed easier, and I finished the mileage with a smile on my face.
How many aspects of life do I sabotage my speed (effort, progress, or whatnot) because I am more concerned about what someone else is doing next to me than what I am actually doing myself?