Cría Cuervos

Cría cuervos y te pecan los ojos.

You raise crows and they peck out your eyes. - (Uplifting) Spanish proverb

We sit around the kitchen table, warm and toasty, full and satisfied. And deadly serious. The cribbage board is between us, a double elimination tournament is in progress, and I want to win. To eliminate my opponent. I bury my two cards in the crib and lift up my eyes, studying her through narrowed slits.

My mom is still weighing her options. I catch her eye and say what's on my mind, "Mom, I love you, but I want to beat you. I'm competitive."

Her blue eyes twinkle right back at mine, "So am I."

Flashback to July 2007: Paradise Valley Tri

I'm out on the course, grinding up hills, fishtailing through loose gravel, an atheist praying hail marys on the way down. I'm sucking in a vertigo and nausea cocktail. My mouth is wide open, my brow furrowed in concentration, my breathing comes in wheezes. But I will not quit. No, it's not even that I won't quit; I will not give an inch. I will not slow down. I will push.

I know that the second place person is 10 minutes behind me. This is a family and friends triathlon. It would actually be nice of me to slow down and hang with my siblings, cousins, and family friends - some of whom haven't trained a lick, yet come and just gut out the tri. The "competition" is not chasing me.

In fact, I've been intending to let someone else win for two years now.

But I can't slow down. I need to get to that finish line and know that I have not let up for even a second. The world could be empty right now. My vision of what I need to do is crystalline. Fight, tough it out, find my limits. I need to define this triathlete-teacher. Not only by what I do, but how I do it.

I don't slow down. I don't let anyone else win - or even tie with me this year. (DO NOT tell her, but I let Strong Sister tie in 2006.)

Nope, I don't slow down. In fact I PR by three minutes. I have the graciousness to not crow. (Or maybe I just have the brains to figure out that my family will take a scythe to me if I do.)

Flash forward:

Our cribbage game has come to an end. My dad waltzes in to the room. "Well, who's the big winner?"

I open my beak and answer... "Caw! Caw!"