News flash, super-serious Boulder athlete: You’re not a pro. Everyone appreciates your solid training efforts, your hard-won eight-pack, your weird flaxseed-acai-sardines diet.
But maybe enjoy this long weekend. You don’t have a sweet sponsorship deal or pro gig, and frankly, your behavior has become a little, um, obsessive. Intense. Enough with the creatine. Put down the grip-strength putty. Step away from the bike trainer (you already rode to Carter Lake today!).
You need to chill the fuck out.
If these five reasons you should calm down do resonate, O aggro athlete, don’t worry — you have three days off to explore the Zen of relaxing amid your amateur hardcoreness.
1 You’re losing friends.
If you’ve noticed (between training) that you haven’t seen some of your friends in a while, well, perhaps they tired of seeing you:
Run with braces on both knees. And ankles. And neck.
Throw your crash pad at squirrels after every failed attempt on “the projie.”
Post your bike and soul on Craigslist after every crit: “For sale: 55-inch Look w/DuraAce & my crushed spirit, $1,500 obo.”
(Your remaining friends almost answered that ad, but they went pro and get free bikes now, sorry.)
2 You’re not impressing the opposite sex.
If you’re too busy training to date, don’t worry about this.
But if you do land a date, you’ll probably insult him/her by saying something like:
“Trad climbing makes you weak. That’s why you have T-rex arms.”
“Marathons are weak. I run ultras.”
“Going out to dinner with you makes me weak. Hit the gym with me next time? I’ll comp your tickets to the gun show.”
3 You’re injured.
Yeah yeah, you’ve got to train. But no one should be using five ice packs at the same time, or taking that much Vitamin I (Advil). You need a rest day.
(Note: Going for a short 50-mile bike ride does not constitute a rest day. Nor does yoga-plus-5-mile-run.)
4 You’re scaring your co-workers.
When you re-examine weekend race results online Monday morning and spray F-bombs of fury all over your cubicle, it freaks out your coworkers. They had fun over the weekend. Remember fun? A chatty ride to Jamestown (yes, talking), or climbing at a sunny crag where maybe (gasp!) you briefly hung on the rope. And beer (calories!) with friends after.
You went home to your ice packs. No wonder you throw your crash pad at squirrels.
5 You’re not sponsored. Yay.
It’s good that you’re not sponsored. You can have fun again, keep your job, win your friends back, even meet a special someone who trad climbs and runs regular marathons, not ultras, and isn’t wallowing in self-loathing. Then again, you did get a few nice offers for your crushed spirit from that Craigslist ad…