Back in high school, there was that girl—the girl every other girl wanted to be and every boy wanted to date. Everything about her was impossibly beautiful, from her bouncy Barbie hair to her gymnast body to her perfectly manicured toes. And, just in case you thought you could hate her with every fiber of your pimple-ridden soul, she had the audacity to be really nice. I knew a girl like that in school. Two, in fact. They were identical twins.
Needless to say, being friends with them was hard because every boy we encountered found me, by comparison, as interesting as a piece of drywall. Engulfed in self-pity, it was easy to forget the kids who had it even worse, huddled in the corners of the cafeteria with their turtlenecks, braces and pleated jeans, waiting for the next barrage of wedgies from the senior boys volleyball team. (Before you feel too sorry for them, though, keep in mind those kids are all millionaires now and the volley-bros wash their cars.)
In life, there is always someone smarter, better-looking, younger or richer. In cycling, there is always someone faster, fitter and with more expensive gear. Feel free to hate them, but you can also take some satisfaction in the fact that there is always someone slower, less fit and with crappier equipment who hates you just as much.