The Power of Negativity

My parents are of the belief that after a certain age anything, beyond puttering along a sidewalk in slow motion is risking serious, life-threatening injury.

So when I mentioned last weekend that I was pulling the plug on most of my races for this season, my mother said it was just as well as I’m getting too old for races. This type of statement is repeated pretty much every time I see them, constant reminders of how your quality of life and abilities are degraded by age. Getting old sounds awful, though I haven’t really noticed so far. It’s pointless to note to them that even if I were competing in the 50 and over category in the races I do, I would still be a backpacker.

They have achy joints from not doing triathlons. I’ll have achy joints from doing triathlons. It’s like the old Redd Foxx joke, I don’t want to end up one day in a hospital bed like a damn fool, dying of nothing (I’m sure I’ve used this joke on this blog before, so sue me).

But I’m glad they say these things because it has to be 50% of my motivation for continuing to do marathons, triathlons and any other activity they deem me too aged to engage in. I’ve inherited the spite and contrarian gene, with just a touch of stubborn. So thanks mom and dad. I didn’t get much natural athletic talent, but never underestimate the ability of spite and negativity to motivate one through endurance sports-particularly parental negativity.

So with their negative support, I’m strongly considering doing the Portland marathon and am looking at a minimum of two more Olympic tris, if not more. I may not train as earnestly as I would for an iron distance race, but I have to do these races now. Strictly out of spite.