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one of the downsides to working out and/or running in the morning before work is that, if you’re out of shape due to illness, laziness, and laziness, your heart rate will still be up even after you’ve taken a shower and gotten dressed. for someone who sweats a reasonable amount, like myself, that can mean ending up sitting at your work desk dripping. not cool.

so as i rode my bike to work today (it’s a really gorgeous, globally-warmed day in the bay area today), i started pedaling really sloooowwwwwwwly, not wanting to sweat all the way through my shirt. it was pretty nice and i actually felt an easy cool breeze as i rounded the corner onto rengstorff. and then it happened:

this 35-year old, white-shirted asian guy (FOB), with one of those bright yellow velcro bands around his pant leg and shirt tail tucked into his khakis, passed me on his bike and (i swear!) actually turned around with a pitying sneer on his face. unbelievable! sure, you might be asking yourself, couldn’t jack just be imagining things? well, i could. and i also could have just let it go. instead, i did what any self-respecting hyper-competitive maniac would do: i decided to smoke this dude. on rengstorff (busy street!). at 9am in the morning. with cars whizzing past us. dressed in my button-down shirt and jeans.

so i’m picking up the pace heavily and about to pass him, when he turns and SEES me. and there’s a moment of “oh no you don’t!” on his face. and then it’s on like the tour de france. we come up to the overpass across 101 and the light’s turning yellow. but both of us speed right through it and aggressively climb up the short hill.

i won’t bore you with tales of who won (jack <– winner), but suffice it to say i’m sure we looked ridiculous. and as i cruised triumphantly into the work parking lot (wanting to turn back and also inform the fella that i ran about 6 miles this morning before destroying him in the bike race to end all bike races [the .75-mile rengstorff-google super sprint]), i couldn’t help but think how, mm, what’s the word… ABSURD i am.

when you’re 15, being competitive means you work really hard and get to make the basketball team. when you’re 25, being competitive just means you get to sit in the office sweating through your dress shirt, sucking down bottles of water, and trying to catch your breath.