Have you ever met someone who won gold in The Suffering Olympics?

The one-uppers.

She's the woman at work who always has it worse than everyone else, and he's the uncle with a blasé attitude, a balding head and a belly full of baby pork...or maybe they're your friend, a parent, your loving wife or hardworking husband.

Don't you feel just as bad as they do?

Are you sick...enough?

Even pain is a contest that you can't win and you're sick of that, too.

It hurts, but not that much. It could always be worse.

But worse would be death and even then, they'd say they died twice that week.

The only thing you're winning is a silver medal in the race, and now you understand that one second is the difference between winning and losing.

Why are you happy? There will always be someone happier.

Stronger, prettier, wealthier.

How can you enjoy existence when comparisons are the only way to add contrast to your world, that make you feel like you're actually achieving something?

This isn't a sport.

You are not a number on a screen.

You are not an athlete with a bib tattooed on their chest.

There are no awards in this game, honey, there's only you.

And you're enough.