Chatting with a colleague this week made me realize there is a downside to competing for time. She was asking about some time off and was I going to do anything fun. Yes, I usually take the day after a race off. A recovery day. Just in case something major happened or I have that weird little metabolic issue kick up; it makes me dizzy. Or, the most likely culprit, I am hung-over.
She is a runner, goes out for thirty minutes every other day and enjoys the run. Just for the run’s sake. I am a runner, too. Each of my runs has a purpose. To make me faster. She shook her head and said she could not do that, she just likes to run. There might be something to that. She is never dissatisfied with a run. I frequently am. She is never preoccupied with a pre-race meal or a taper or the pace with which an interval is run. I am. She is never disappointed by her effort.
I have gotten so preoccupied with setting a new PR, placing where I want to place, and maintaining an even pace, I have lost my perspective. I am training for a race where I feel I could have done better last year. During my final tempo trainer, I bonked. It was hot, I had not eaten or drank properly before going out, and I went out too fast. Shortly after half way I stopped and backed way off willing myself to just finish the run. I ended the run ten seconds slower than last year’s race time, and I had screwed it up. I have got to remember that I am now achieving times on a messed up trainer that, three years ago, I would have never believed they would be associated with my name.
I have also lost sight of the beauty of running. Being the only man in an office of women for three years taught me one thing. Beauty can have a purpose. I can have a purpose to my running. I can’t lose sight that, while my performance might be less than my expectation, I am still doing something beautiful.
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