I want it all. Is that too much to ask?

I want to be romanced. I want to be respected. I want to be paid the same as men for the same job. I want the door held open for me. I want to be the best…at my career, in any endeavors, anything I’m a part of. (Understanding this is totally unrealistic; doesn’t change my mindset.)

I want to surround myself with greatness. I have mentors that motivate me and guide me. My top five people change from time to time, if their growth seems to stop, I’ll move forward with a new focus. I don’t like to settle. I’ve done it, but I don’t like it.

When I was racing, I wanted to win. In the competitive world, second place was really ‘first place’s loser’. I’ve been on that second place podium, and I’d waver between proud of myself for my placement and why didn’t I push harder…the most challenging part of my training was that I was a triathlete. So I couldn’t be the best swimmer, the fastest runner and the swiftest cyclist. Trying to chase two rabbits, you won’t catch either one. It didn’t matter, it’s how I continued to train. Mentally, this became my downfall.

In the pool, I was an anchor. I was slow and ineffective. It took a lot of training to improve my stroke and perfect my technique. Lines at the bottom to guide you and no waves to worry about, I was hitting my stride. Now, the races are in the ocean and there’s so many more factors. My skills quickly turned into survival. I’ve eaten jelly fish for breakfast and had my goggles knocked off by a competitor, been kicked in the face and swam entirely off course. Swimming was not my strong suit. Maybe I’d go back to duathlons; run, bike, run.

On the bike, I’d had an indoor trainer and all kinds of equipment to read power and output, I’d ride in my bedroom as well as hit the open road. Now, racing bikes have these skinny tires. If you see cyclists outside of the white line of the shoulder and riding in the car lane, sure, some of them are just entitled assholes but most are avoiding debris and hazards in the shoulder. Keep that consideration as you pass them…it’s definitely an issue. The entitled assholes are also an issue…but, you know, control what you can. My spin classes helped to create strong legs and my cycling was solid. Not the best by a long shot, but that was mainly over my confidence. Transitioning to a more aerodynamic position was nerve-racking for me. I was determined.

I used to run ten miles for fun. Where’d that girl go? Running was most in my control, as it’s you and your sneakers and the terrain. I’d trail run, road run, treadmill interval, beach run, hills. I was chasing a sub 7 min mile. I’d not hit it, but it’s important to have a goal. I worked hard to get there and my running improved. Again, learning about arm swing and hydration on the course, conquering focus and effectiveness. I’d also learned how to run after tripping and cutting up both knees and that no matter what happens, just keep going. Slow down, but stopping will stop you.

In the end, I never was the best. At any of the components. I’d won races for sure, I’d been strong in my age group for a while. I kept chasing. I kept chasing numbers that I knew I’d likely not catch. It didn’t make me want them less.

Like the number on the scale now.

Like the key performance indicators in the businesses.

Like the territory of sales in icebox.

I. Want. It. ALL.

& I’m not ashamed to admit it.