Don't Get Too Big For Your Britches

I’m a firm believer in continuous improvement. Nothing is static. If you stop trying to get better, you go the other way. That’s true in our work, play, fitness and health, relationships…anything. But as you see the results of your efforts, don’t get too impressed with yourself. My parents’ generation (who get wiser and wiser as I get older…who knew?) advised us not to get too big for our britches. I never expected to be reminded of that lesson while riding on the greenway.

Riding on greenway trails is surprisingly conducive
to whimsical thoughts.

I started out on the Neuse River Greenway trail recently on one of those cool, gray, misty spring days. The weather kept most people inside, so I had the trail mostly to myself. Those days lend themselves to a lot of introspection. I pedaled north past the Hedingham subdivision and later, the Buffalo Road Athletic Park. I was riding through an area thick with undergrowth when movement caught my eye between the trail and the river. There were three deer running through the bushes near the river. I smiled as I realized that I was catching up to them. I’d been making steady improvements in my speed and stamina, going further and faster. And now I was passing adult deer. The surge of satisfaction was exhilarating. I did indeed pass those deer. All kinds of crazy thoughts swirled through my head. I wondered about entering competitive bike races. I could see images of the Tour de France, Olympic speed races and triathalons…cheering crowds, sponsorships, my face on a Wheaties box. Long rides like that tend to produce whimsical flights of fancy, and the flights were particularly fanciful that day. I was faster than a deer!

I pedaled on to 401 and crossed the suspension bridge. I took a break and had some water and a granola bar at the end of the trail. After a few minutes I started home, still making great time. I could see myself answering questions in the media tent of a major bike race in my head as I pedaled through the same area where I saw the deer. As I pondered the answer to the question of how I could be so awesome, a deer bolted out of the brush and flashed by about 15 feet in front of me. I didn’t have time to react, but I did sit straight up in my seat and I think a let out a quick, startled scream. I turned quickly to see where he went, but he was gone. I kept pedaling, but the tone of my thoughts changed. Those flights got a lot less fanciful.

A deer like this one taught me a valuable lesson.

That deer was really moving. If he had been 1-2 seconds slower, he might have plowed right into me. No doubt I would have flown off the bike and landed hard on the ground. But he was really fast. And that reminded me that when I had passed this deer and his two running mates awhile ago, they had been in thick brush. In fact, they had been leaping along more than running. That’s why I was able to catch up and pass them. So all that praise I was giving myself for going fast and all those fantasies about earning a medal in the Olympics and appearing on Sportcenter were wasted. In fact, they were silly. Even though I wasn’t taking them too seriously, I was guilty of getting too big for my britches. It almost seemed like the deer knew that and decided to give me a reality check. There’s nothing wrong with striving to improve. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments. But keep it in perspective. Try to improve, but know and appreciate your place. Otherwise, those pants might not fit.

Message received, friend deer. Thanks.