Competition

So Competitive

I am the most competitive person I know. See, I even have to be the most competitive of the competitive. I don’t know why I’m compelled to try to out-perform everyone. I often find myself trying to accept a friend’s success, trying to be happy for their accomplishment. But rather then be happy for them, I just want to do what they did, and do it better. Take running for example, it’s not my forte. It’s something I used to hate to do. The one year I joined track in high school, we had to jog two laps around the track. Not only could I barely make the first lap, I became a “thrower” so I wouldn’t have to run. Back then, I had no sense of competition. Today, I’m super envious of my friend who has come so far, and made major accomplishments in the past year. How could someone who really got into running a year ago be so much faster then me? I keep telling myself I just have to get to the gym, or get on the road and get back into it. I also remind myself that I added this complication to my life called Willow. I spend any free time I have with her, and it’s exhausting. So now I’m to the point of making excuses, and Willow is my scapegoat. Why can’t I just be happy that my friend has excelled at something and enjoys it? Why do I have to feel like a failure because I’m not as good as someone else?
At conference for work we hosted a great hospitality where people who drive indoor go-karts. I slid around those corners, and slammed the throttle for two hours in an effort to have the top time. I didn’t care who I “rear-ended” or how many black flags I got. I wanted to win. Improvements I made, but in the end the checkered flag was not waving for me. Was I a failure because I couldn’t beat 29 second laps?
Wednesday nights are obedience class nights for Dakota and Willow. Willow has basic first, and I evaluated her to be the worst puppy in class. Why was I even comparing her to the other dogs? Why did I feel that her behavior was a direct reflection of me? Dakota was by far the best dog in his advanced class. It made me feel like I was the best at giving direction to my dog. And at the end of class, when it was revealed that he had gotten less points then another dog, I wanted to pick a fight with the ref! Err . . . expert dog trainer.
It’s a characteristic that intensifies over time. I have only noticed it lately, but I’m glad that I have. I don’t want to be the unsupportive friend, or the super annoying coworker. Or even the overbearing “parent”. I just want to be the best . . .the best that I can be.