The Rat Race

When I was in college, I had a fixation on weight lifting. Like many other young men, I was obsessed with working out, with a disproportionate concentration on upper body muscle building exercise. Despite what it may have appeared, my focus wasn't on being fit (I rarely did cardio, had no flexibility), it was on appearing fit and having an adequately muscular build, especially when in comparison to my peers. Fit enough wasn't "fit enough to my own standard," but rather "looking more fit than everyone else." My mother always told me that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing your best. Unfortunately, the message got a little garbled in translation, and what I internalized was that if something was worth doing, you had to be the best. And ever since I've entered my adult life, I've always had a small knot in my chest every time I've done anything that can be compared; a small worrying reminder that I'm not the best at whatever it is.

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