As combinations go, it's doomed to disappointment: a fervently competitive spirit, matched with almost no natural ability and very little technical understanding of the bicycle.
But just occasionally, blissfully, it works.
Today was such a day. I was pedalling home from work, cursing the headwind and planning my dinner when suddenly, I spied him. My unsuspecting victim was some distance ahead, riding steadily towards the brow of a hill.
Instantly, I slipped in to what my despairing husband calls 'Lucy mode'. Lucy from the Peanuts cartoon is a bit of a heroine of mine. I love the effort she puts in to plotting and her triumphant pleasure when a plan works.
I put my head down and pedalled. Faster and faster spun my feet. The bloke on the bike got larger....no, wait...he's closer up!
As I drew almost within touching distance it was time to regroup. Holding my breath so as not to betray my position, I gave one final hell-for-leather push, then eased off the effort to float past, doing the pedalling equivalent of putting my feet up on the sofa and sipping a glass of wine.
"Evening", I said.
"Evening", he replied.
We both knew what we meant.
As I rode on, my heart bursting with pride (or possibly just bursting), a rather fab thing happened. A car, the occupants of which had obviously watched my manoeuvre, went past. And as it did, the driver sounded her horn and her grinning passengers all gave me the thumbs-up.
There is a little bit of Lucy in a lot of us.