I wouldn't call myself the most competitive of people. My need to win or triumph over others doesn't come out in any form of aggression and I don't train myself to within an inch of my life with the music from a Rocky montage playing in the background. However, in my recent rides I have been regularly attempting to improve my personal best times on a short sprint when cycling on my usual route. I've been there or thereabouts most times without cutting any time off.
Today was the day though. The route was quiet, no dog walkers, scallys or old couples that cop a deafen at the sound of my bell or failing that the uncomfortable sound of heavy breathing and panting approaching them from behind. I had the path to myself and felt like I was really speeding along and certain to shave some time off my personal best on this section. Until the squirrel of sabotage arrived. Running across the path like some kind of kamikaze streaker I had no choice but to pull on the brakes. I knew straight away that I wouldn't be able to make up the time, a new personal best would evade me for today. Mr Squirrel almost became the first person to invoke a competitive aggression in me as I spent the next ten minutes berating and cursing him in my own mind.
Mr Squirrel, I hope that you one day choke on your own nuts!
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