Today, I lost. 

I want to win. All the damn time. And sometimes you have to lose. Today I was reminded of that. 

My first reaction to my loss (after the sheer terror of it all) was to blast this one-liner to my 1,298 Facebook friends: “…and then there are those moments that let you know it’s time to move on.” I even got 11 likes!

You’d think that would give me some sense of validation. To know that there are others out there that feel the same way I do. But it didn’t. I do not care that other people can identify with my losing. I just want to win. 

I have read article after article about how my generation has this sense of entitlement. That we feel the world owes us something because we followed directions and did well in school, went to college…We want what we were promised: prosperity. No one ever took the time to explain the Ls we’d have to take along the way. Usually I’m okay with that. Today, it pissed me off.

I was so angry, I did all 215 of my squats in one rip. If you could see my ass (and the lack of exercise in which I’ve participated until recently) you’d understand the magnitude of that feat. In between each of squats 190 to 215 I told myself through gritted teeth “You will NOT quit.” I refused to lose to my own body after the world had kicked me in the shins. 

A friend of mine called my loss on my journey to win a “misconstrued vision.” And maybe that’s what my generation has done. We were spoon-fed these stories about the correlation between hard(ish) work and prosperity and we ate it up. Or at least I did. Never did I take the time to map out the highs and lows I’d have to experience along the way. 

Meh. At the end of the day I still want to win. 

Badly.