not

my son's class performed to a song during their "spring fling" a few weeks ago, and these are the lyrics (I cannot find the author, so cannot credit him/her):

I am I said I.
I am me said me.
I am exactly who I am supposed to be.
some days I'm up.
some days I'm down.
some days my head is spinning around.
some days I'm good.
some days I'm bad.
some days I'll do things that'll make you mad.
but I can't change myself to suit you
though I know you'd like me to.
what good would I be if I was just like you
and you were just like me?
I might feel lost.
I might feel found.
I might feel like just hanging around.
I might feel like there is no hope.
I might feel like swinging on a rope.
I am me, the best that I can be.
and don't you see,
that's all that I can be.
I am I said I.
I am me said me.
I am exactly who I am supposed to be.


I've been thinking of this song lately, as I struggle with the fact that cycling is still challenging, and the fact that I work so hard to only go as fast as I go. I hear of people who ride better-faster-harder, and I watch people zip past me on the road, and I fall into a little hollow of self-recrimination and frustration.
I think if I hold on to these lyrics, I might be able to pull myself up the side and climb out of that little sinkhole.

I am not lance armstrong, nor am I dana torres. I am not one who wins races or is outstanding in her sport. I am not someone who was an athlete in high school or college.
who I am is a nearly 47 year old female who receives great pleasure and a sense of accomplishment (and the ability to eat more cookies) from riding her bike.

I am not a racer.
I am not 23.
I am not ranked or licensed or exceptional.
I am not a guy.

I am just me.

I am I.

the sooner I get that through my head, the sooner I can enjoy myself a little more, and perhaps even celebrate the fact that
I
am
I.