Pedal faster!

For all of my life that I can remember or as long as I can remember people telling stories about me, since I can't remember yesterday most days, I have been a speed freak. It didn't matter if I was on a big wheel, a bike, a go kart, or a car - I wanted to go faster. I seem to lack the internal sense of fear that most normal people have. I remember one visit to Texas. We went out to Brandie's brother Cameron's in-laws house. (I realize that was one of those brother's, cousin's, former roommate kind of comments) Cameron's in-laws had 4 wheelers and a lot of land, which is a pretty darn good combination. They had actually started an orchard on part of the land as an investment type thing. Through the midst of these adolescent pines was a series of trails. Apparently they had mapped out 2 paths through the orchard and out into the pasture, around the barn and back to the starting point. The paths were not identical in size so you started on one and crossed over to the other one, so you each did an equal distant lap of both. So it was a race! This was right up my alley. Cameron challenged me to a race before I could even get out of my car. Far be it from to pass up a race. Having never ridden these particular 4 wheelers or seen this track, I was given a few minutes to acclimate myself to the conditions. I think I may have lost the first race, but then won several in a row after that. Now Cameron had a few pounds on me for sure, but he had driven this track many, many times. The experience of flying through the trees made you feel like you were on the Endor moon in Star Wars. It became clear that I was willing to race through the trees much faster. No sense!

I think for the most part I have always been proud of my speed freakishness. It seemed like a skill I possessed. A strength uncommon to my peers. Something has dawned on me recently, that it is a bit of an addiction. I don't race cars anymore and I miss it terribly. I don't own a fast car and that just pisses me off to be perfectly frank. But I am actually not worried about that part of the addiction. I think I speed through life. I have become addicted to an incredibly hectic pace. Sure I complain about it. Constantly remind people how busy I am, even how put upon I am by the powers that be, but really, it is my own fault. Addicted to speed, addicted to a pace that is far beyond what a reasonable person would subject themselves too. And why? There is the million dollar question. Why? Is it because I am just conditioned to pedal as fast as I can? Am I trying to make up for something? I have often described myself as someone who does not get by on my ability or smarts but by my willingness to work harder than most everyone else. Really? I am addicted to speed. I guess this is something I will continue to wrestle with. For now I think I am willing to admit that it is my own fool self that sets the pace at full throttle all the time. That is a big step for me. I suppose the next step is to find a healthier pace and stop running over people as I pedal my tricycle of life as fast as I can. As I look at this picture of me on the tricycle I realize how crazy I look and I am sure that is how I am seen by many. I am ready to pedal at a different speed for awhile.