Never Satisfied

I wrote last week that my post-race blues after the 70.3 came from not being pushed to my limit. I have been thinking about it since and I don't think that's true. I am never satisfied. I have never celebrated a single thing I have done, not the marathons, not the 48 hours of running, not this. I am pleased when it is over and then I am on to the next one. Get across the line, get the medal, get in the car, and start thinking about what's next before we are out of the car park.I always thought that was the point. Winning for me has never been a time or a place, it is being better than I was yesterday, and you can't be better than yesterday by standing around admiring yesterday. Lately I have started to wonder if that's a bit broken, so I did some reading.There's a name for it. Tal Ben-Shahar calls it the arrival fallacy, believing that getting to the goal will make you happy. He was a squash player who won the tournament he had chased for years and was back to the same stress and…