This is me. Super stoked after running my first half marathon. My goal of that marathon was just to finish. I ended up running it in 2:31, which I never thought would be possible and ended up discouraging me in future races. I thought, well that’s it. That’s my PR. I’m not a fast runner, I’ll never beat that. So I went into every half marathon after that expecting that I would never make it past that.
And to be honest, I was pissed. I was pissed off that I ran with someone who pushed me too hard during that race and that I didn’t do the pace I wanted. I wanted to build up my running. I just wanted to finish that race. Then I wanted to set future goals. The next half marathon I ran was in the dead heat of summer on July 4. I am not good at running in the heat so my time on that was pretty terrible. Then after that I did three more half marathons, but I kind of gave up running and walked a good portion of those. I wasn’t interested in pushing myself because beating 2:31 didn’t seem like an option.
But now I obviously understand that being pissed off at my running partner was not at all the appropriate response. I should have been pissed off at myself for giving up, for thinking I couldn’t be faster, and for obviously not wanting to put in the work to get there.
Why am I thinking about this today? Because yesterday I legitimately had the best run of my life. It was fun. It felt good. It felt easy even though it wasn’t easy. And it was all on a treadmill where I don’t traditionally shine as a runner.
I’m not disillusioned. I know that every run won’t be like that. I know that there are still a lot of shitty runs in the future. But I also know that there are a lot of good runs in the future.
I’m not going to let that 2:31 loom over my head anymore as discouragement from trying.