I have a ‘pile’ of brothers.
We are insanely close.
Like close, close.
When we were kids, we fought every day.
But not the fights you are thinking of.
They were not verbal.
They were physical.
Our parents bought us boxing gloves and kept the door to the basement shut.
Announcer, rounds with walking cards, champion’s arm held up.
We were all in.
If we were not fighting, we were competing.
Everything was a competition.
The moment you got out of bed, it began.
‘I brushed my teeth faster than you.’
But there was one location where it all went down.
The epicentre.
The backyard pool.
It was more than a pool.
It was an Olympic Pool.
Every imaginable event took place in it, seven days a week.
Underwater time trials, races, diving, relays, creative slide usage, you name it, it was scored, timed, and awarded.
I think this is why I am not competitive anymore.
I got it out of my system.
It maxed out.
It left.
Now, it is only with me.
I like a good race.
Don’t get me wrong.
But I don’t look for it.
I let it come to me.
Someone will appear.
It is ‘ON’
I love when it is ‘ON.’
But I am always ‘ON.’
I don’t have to change anything.
I stick to what I am doing.
They will be ahead, beside, and behind.
It will go on for a long time.
Then something happens.
Kind of a WTF?
Actually, no, a total WTF?
They ‘cheat.’
What gives with that?
You do not need to know the specifics.
You do not need to know what they do.
They just do something that ruins the race.
Every race has ‘implicit’ rules.
It is not complicated.
Stay on the ‘course.’
When this happens, I do not change a thing physically.
But mentally, they do not exist anymore.
They are right there, but I am back riding on my own again.
It is over.
I stopped riding the track.
It is a track, stay on it.
It was not designed with shortcuts in mind.
You see?
With all those fights in the basement, with all the competitions in the backyard pool, there was one rule and one rule only.
No cheating.
‘DISQUALIFIED’
Insert black flag emoji here.
‘There is another way to ride.’