I quit playing soccer when I was in fifth grade. I said it was my asthma and that I couldn’t handle the shin guards and wool socks. As a diabetic, it was hard to manage my blood sugars too. I had all the excuses. But I quit because I knew I wasn’t going to be the best and I didn’t like that. This pattern continued throughout my school days and into my adulthood. I would only do things that I knew I could do really well. To me, “mediocre” performance was a failure. If