{WICHITA, Kan.} — Ok, I'll admit it, I am overly competitive. I not only want to be first, I want to be first by a mile. Thus the reason I can't do competitive races because I get so angry when someone passes me that I speed up to an uncomfortable rate and I burn myself out. Yep, I'd like to thank my two older brothers for that trait.
Anyway, I had the same idiotic thinking when I injured my knee playing soccer in high school. We were beating one team 6-0 in the second half and I wanted to play in the field for a while instead of in goal. So coach begrudgingly allowed me to play sweeper. I swear not 5 minutes in to my lovely field debut a girl slide-tackled me and her body hit me directly below my kneecap and I twisted my knee something awful. I probably tore my meniscus and I should have rested for a few weeks, but I couldn't. I sat on the bench for two games writhing with competitive fury, so angry that my knee was holding me back. I still was practicing every day and I'd push so hard that at one point I remember crawling out of the goal on my hands with a swollen knee. I didn't care about my knee, I cared about winning.
