I don’t train for races like normal people do.

Normal people sign up for a race for a particular reason, train and prepare and then do their best effort on the day.

I don’t do that.

For some strange reason I avoid research, training plans, coaches. I do my own thing. Instead of calmly and happily sticking to a plan, I grit my teeth and take on an attitude that the world is against me. Sometimes I summon the energy to take on tough physical challenges that raise the eyebrows of others, but don’t really help me get ready.

When I hear about my friends clocking miles on their trainer, I roll my eyes, generally resentful of their progress.

And if I don’t perform like I hoped I would, I heap the blame back on myself. I wasn’t disciplined enough. Not motivated enough. I throw around ultimatums like “I’ll quit cycling forever.”

It’s a mess.

But I’ve been thinking.

I believe something strange.

And this belief is what likely messes with my training, and perhaps every other aspect of my life.

I believe everything has to be hard.

Or put another way…

I believe I have to grit my teeth in order to get to a good result.

I believe that if something is hard, unpleasant and requires a lot of grit teeth, it must be good, or the right thing to do.

I have to admit, I feel morally superior when I grit my teeth.

And I believe if I grit my teeth hard enough, I can control the outcome.

Strange isn’t it.

No one told me to grit my teeth.

Although it gives me a certain kind of energy, it doesn’t feel very pleasant.

And if I’m honest, it rarely helps with whatever I’m trying to do.

It doesn’t make me smarter, faster, funnier, kinder.

It just makes me want grit my teeth more.

Last year when I was bonking, it suddenly became clear that the tooth grinding wasn’t moving my bike forward. It’s a reaction that I’ve told myself is important, rather than a causative force.

Of course my ego didn’t want to hear that. So it came up with all sorts of other excuses, to assure me that I hadn’t lost control.

• I’m not really into this sort of thing anyway.
• Everyone else is obsessive and freakish, and I’m the only normal one.
• I didn’t work hard enough (this time).

It’s all bullshit.

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I have a theory that perfectionists are afflicted by this ‘tooth grinding’ disease more so than others. Most people just don’t care that much about being good or perfect. They’re too busy having fun.

The harsh reality for perfectionists is that no one is perfect. No one can make anything perfect. There’s no points handed out the more you suffer, or feel hard done by.

The best one can do is to acknowledge the straining attitude, and if you can bear it – to laugh.