I was pretty care-free when I was young. But, compared to my friends, I always seemed to be a little more prepared, or brought a few more things, or planned a little bit better than
they did.
As I grew older, this trait continued until I had kids, when it blossomed into ridiculousness. Now, I am like a neurotic Boy Scout – always over-prepared. I seem to, at all times, have at least one backpack full of stuff, and when the question “dad can I have?” inevitably comes up, the answer is always “yeah, I got that.” Bottled water, band-aids, fruit snacks, electronic devices, extra clothes, porcupine, Windex, somehow I manage to always have it all.
Strangely, I am utterly unprepared for my races. I cannot figure out why. Maybe because the race is not quite real life, maybe all of my preparation and planning time gets replaced by work and family requirements, maybe it is a subconscious plot to give me an excuse for my poor times? Who knows? But boy am I a mess on race day.



