For awhile now I've been beating myself up about my running. Let me rephrase that... I've been beating myself up about the speed of my running. I've lost the joy of going for a run and lately I dread lacing up my shoes. How did this happen?
I could blame a number of things, but ultimately I'm the one tearing myself down. No one else has ever made fun of my running. But I have. No one else has said that running slow isn't true running, and no one else has ever said that running 10 miles isn't impressive. But I have told myself these things over and over again. I decided that unless I was running 10 minute mile or less it wasn't true running and anything over a 10 minute pace was just pathetic.
One of my best runs ever was my first 8 mile run. I still dream about that run. It was perfect in every way. And you know what? I ran the entire time, but it was actually slower than a 12-minute pace. Yet this run was perfect to me. Why have I lost sight of this???? I could probably get outside and aim for a faster pace, but what's the point if I'm absolutely miserable the entire time? I think this is a time for me to enjoy the journey more than the end result.
When I first decided to start running I never said I wanted to run fast. I only said I wanted to run. When I signed up for the half-marathon my goal envisioned a finish line -- not a chip time. Today I ran 4 miles. And you know what? 4 miles is still tough for me. And I think that's alright, because I'm not doing this because it's easy. I'm doing this to fulfill a goal and to enjoy the JOURNEY of reaching that goal. On Sunday I'm going to run my little slow heart out! And I will be proud of my time no matter what. I think I'm ready to accept where I am right now and who God has created me to be. Hi, my name is Nicki and I run a 12-minute mile.
Time: 47 minutes
Miles this Week: 7
Miles this Month: 35