I had a great ride yesterday. The ride was great because it didn't just come to me, I had to go out and get it; physical challenges came up, and I rose to meet them.
This morning I caught myself swaggering around Whole Foods' bulk section with something distressingly close to a seven deadly sin, and I was like "what in the world am I doing? It was just a ride, a piddly regular ride that I've done before and will do again." But my sense of accomplishment and sense of the value of the ride, because of how I had handled and overcome the circumstances, had been blown somewhat out of proportion relative to what I could rightfully claim.
In the retelling, my <-minnow-> had become a <----SHARK---->.
And you know, apart from the parade I threw myself in the coffee aisle, I think my reaction is not as unhealthy and less egotistical than it seems. As athletes, our confidence, our knowledge of what we are capable has to come from somewhere. We can't or won't all win races, so our successes and triumphs have to happen somewhere, if not the finish line, and sometime, if not when setting a world record or PR.
I toned down the ticker-tape a tad, but my run today was still buoyed by the fact that emotionally I was on Cloud 9 and it too turned out great. And I am excited about my big day tomorrow in a way that I wasn't last week. Heck, I'll take it!
A man wiser than I actually has a plan about how to use these intermediate and unseen triumphs, beyond the coffee aisle and tomorrow's training. I think it's an idea worth trying, if only to keep the shark from becoming some prehistoric Franken-fish. Or else we're gonna need a bigger boat.