SingTeachRun

Disclaimer: this is too long. I tried to edit, to take out whole paragraphs, but in the end, I leave the editing to the reader. It is my story, and I could not bring myself to leave any of it out. My alarm went off at 5:30, and I immediately got up and began my race-day routine, trying to treat this morning like any other long-run morning. As I was getting dressed, brushing teeth, putting in contacts, I paused briefly to check Facebook. I had a  message from my friend Fitz that had me crying like a baby. It was just the kind of inspirational, funny message you'd want to get from a friend on a morning like this. By 7:15 I was at Lucky Peak, waiting in the windy, 45-degree cold for my race, which wouldn't start until 8:30. If it weren't for the necessity of riding a bus to the starting line (leaving my car at the finish), I would not have gotten there so early, but this 75 minutes in the cold, cold May morning was nearly unavoidable. As race time approached my anticipatio...

I was in the sixth or seventh grade when I realized I was not only an average athlete (at best), but that I also don't perform well under pressure. We had a ping pong table in our basement in Kellogg, and my younger brother, David, and I played often. I honestly felt like my ping pong skills were comparable to David's at that age (he has since surpassed me by quite a bit), but I noted that he consistently beat me, although, at least in my memory, not handily. I remember observing on one occasion that even if I had a lead, as the end of the game drew near, my nerves would get the best of me. David, on the other hand, tends to thrive under a pressure. When it comes to athletic pursuits, my tendency to fold on game day has continued to torment me throughout life. As it turns out, adrenaline is not my friend when it comes to competition. (For some reason I can channel adrenaline in positive ways when it comes to singing or public speaking, for which I am grateful.) So, as I...