Motivation
"I heard you used to be faster," he said to me as we were jogging out to the stack in a friendly game of Ultimate.
"Whaaat?" I screeched. "Who said that?"

It didn't matter who said it. I didn't want to hear it and now the messenger was going to pay. I was going to inflict pain the only way I know how- passive-aggressive whining. NO! The other only way I know how, by running and running and running until those around me are reduced to only pants and grunts. This used to be more effective, but I've still got a good bit of endurance left in me. From that moment forward, every one of his cuts was going to be contested and every one of mine would be at full speed. He would strike first, much to my dismay. He's not a slouch. Then I would quiet him. I scored. I attempted a greatest or two. I played mean defense and always, always lined up across from my new nemesis. It didn't take long, before he left the game for a rest. When he returned I went after him again until finally I heard what I wanted to hear, "That's the last time I get him going."

I think maybe I need to take things personally more often. That was fun.