I was on the bike tonight and pushing myself to pedal harder and go faster.  I was sweating hard and pushing myself to do better.  In my mind I was remembering a 9th grade football coach (Coach Russell) encouraging me to do better while.  Helping me to push myself.  Helping me to succeed.

I walked away from Football because I was too lazy.  I didn’t want it enough to put the effort in to it.  It wasn’t worth it.  And I regret it now.  I wish I could have stuck with it.

But as I pushed myself to go harder and pedal faster it felt great.  I was thinking about work and thinking about a promotion for which I’m applying and thinking about how I’m going to get it.  I was imagining myself doing great during the interview and standing tall and succeeding.

Someday I’d really like to run in a marathon.  Seriously.  I’m not in good enough shape to consider running in the Boston marathon in 2005, but maybe 2006 I could do it.

As I pedaled harder and got myself pumped up and going I felt an old pride from competition-based achievement.  And then it occurred to me, as I considered what it would take to run in a marathon and what it would take to achieve more at work, that competition is not necessarily very compatible with taking care of a family and bringing up children.  I’m not sure I can do all this without taking something significant away from my kids.

Maybe there’s a place in between, though.

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