Losing competition

It’s been 23 years since I lost that cycling race — but the memory is still fresh.
Why is it that I remember failures more vividly than achievements?
Is this common for others too?

I had picked cycling as a sport to improve my chances of getting into a reputed engineering college. After finishing school, I focused entirely on cycling. Studies became second priority. I was mistakenly committed to winning a medal, rather than maintaining consistent focus on academics.

In 1995, during the All India Inter-University Cycling competition, there was a team road race on the last day of the event. I was part of the four-member team for that race. We started slow but gradually picked up momentum. I was nervous and found it hard to get into rhythm. I had to push harder than usual to stay on pace.

The winning team would be the one to complete 70 km in the shortest time.
We crossed the finish line in record time — breaking the previous record.
I was thrilled to be part of what I believed was a gold medal-winning team.

But once the other teams finished and the results were announced, our team wasn’t even mentioned.
We had been disqualified.
Supposedly for violating race rules — though we were never told which rule we broke.

I pleaded with our coach to appeal the decision. I was desperate. This was my last chance to win a medal — the final event of the championship.
A gold would have secured my admission into an engineering college.

I had drifted from academics into cycling.
Despite being a bright student in school, those two years focused on the sport hurt me academically.
I couldn’t secure an engineering seat — though I had a chance, even with a poor entrance test score, had I won that national gold medal.

I never intended to become a sportsperson.
At best, I thought cycling would be remembered as a hobby.

Today, I’m doing well and living a good life — but I’m not an engineer.
And that one failure still sits quietly in my heart.