I went for a run today. I should be happy enough with that. But I noticed that I passed no one on my way – well at least no one that was running!
I never wanted to be a runner. In fact, I hated running. I ran in college, along with my Jane Fonda obsession, to lose weight and stay in shape. I didn’t like it then. As the years went by I hated it more and more until finally I stopped, to “never run again.”
And then four years ago I decided to start running, so that I could run with my daughter (who was running for school). And you know what, I don’t mind it as much. I mean, don’t get me wrong. My favorite part is still the feeling I have when I’m done. But I no longer hate it. And at times it’s fun. It feels good.
But I’m not fast. At least not unless I’m running with my daughter. She can always get me to run fast. At least fast for me. She wants us to run a 5K together. A few years ago she suggested we sign up for a race and that I could, and would, win my age group. I laughed and suggested that we wait until I moved into the next-up age group, and that then I might be not as embarrassingly slow in the age group, with many people older than me.
But I ran today. I’m proud that I ran four miles. I’m proud that last week I ran a total of thirteen miles – of course I was on vacation with my daughter and that always ups my mileage. I’m finding a way to be proud of what I do accomplish with my running. And how I’m keeping at it. And how I’m letting myself enjoy it. I’m trying to not notice that I’m slower than other people (in my defense, my legs are short!) and than I want to be. It goes against my competitive nature that always tries to do my best and always tries to at least keep up with other people – even if they are, by virtue of size, age, and training inherently faster than I am.
So I don’t care that I didn’t pass anyone (although I did notice it, huh?). And I don’t care that I was passed by a few people – mostly men in my unneeded defense. I’m going to keep at it, keep liking it, keep allowing my daughter to push me faster, and keep letting whatever I do do be enough. I’m going to keep running.
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