Tall Friend’s Wife says that I’m competitive, and get the impression that she doesn’t mean it in a good way. I’ve always just shrugged it off as projection, but I also have the feeling somewhere at the back of head that she may have a point.
Especially after this morning. I ended up racing another rider through North Shields and most of the way to Royal Quays. I’d seen him a couple of hundred yards ahead, and somehow the race reflex had cut in. I may have even cried, “Tally Ho!” as I cut it down a gear and spun those pedals.
The other guy put up a spirited defence, but . . . well . . . as Mrs Tall Friend says, I am a bit competitive.