I like to compete. I have for some time, at least since middle school. It feels good to win. And into my middle-age it still feels good to win. I don’t play on a basketball team or volleyball team anymore. But I get my fix in other ways, mainly running.

There’s a few things I really like about competing. I think it makes people better – in business, academics, politics, sports. I’ve pushed through some hard things, done some tough workouts, endured the discomfort of the foam roller, eaten clean, and gotten enough sleep so I can run my best race. I like to not just compete with other runners but with myself also. If I can cross that finish line 3 seconds faster than I did last time, I’ll be a happy camper. Even if the other woman crosses before me.

I like to compete in silly things as well. It’s not always a conscious thing but it’s rooted in who I am (more on this later). I was at the eye doctor’s office today. The nurse who triaged me handed me the plastic spoon-like instrument and told me to cover one eye. Then she said, “Read the smallest line you can see.” My right eye did fine; it was a little more of a challenge with the left eye (akin to doing bicep curls or rows on different arms). I couldn’t help but burst out laughing when I looked at the bottom line and saw jumbled up characters in black. Aww man, I thought, my left eye is going to be beat by my right eye! I didn’t want any part of my body to lose – I wanted a perfect score in both eyes! Aaahhhh!

I like to make a lot of money; I like to run fast and lift heavy weights; I like to be competent. If I can tell you a secret, my competitive spirit is rooted in insecurity. I just want people to like me. I want to be accepted. If I can be fast enough, smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough – fill in the blank – maybe people will like me. Mainly, I think people will like me if I’m the best. Maybe they’ll pick me to be on their team!

Losing is good for me. Not getting a job. Not coming in first in a race. Not getting a 5-star Google review when my colleague does. Even the occasional insult is probably a good thing. Ridiculous as it sounds, I really think one of the best thing that’s ever happened to me was getting an A- in college statistics. That minus was a scarlet letter but I learned that the world didn’t collapse. My husband still loves me. God still loves me.

I am not what I do. So, in my now 34 years of existence, I’ve learned to let a lot of things go. I am not a triathlon Olympian, an expert in infectious disease, a statistician, PTA president-soccer coach-mother-of-five, or a sniper with impeccable vision. And that’s okay. I’m me, so why compare myself to them? I’m going to be the best me possible and realize I’m already loved and accepted by the two who matter most: God and my husband. Thankfully I don’t have to compete to be on their teams. ~