Today I went for a glorious run. My brain was about to explode from finishing two essays that are due tomorrow, there was a perfect breeze in the air, and so I peeled myself off my study chair (I have pretty much made an indent on that thing at this point) and pranced out the door.
I spent the the first half of the run cranking Eminem (specifically W.T.P, The Way I am, and Cleaning out My Closet, I am old school I know, #truefan).
The second half was filled with Mindy Kaling’s soothing voice reminding me that I am winning at life and that all my quirks are completely normal.
So as I was sailing along, wind in my running-induced afro, I was feeling pretty darn good. I was enjoying the run and had no idea of my pace or how far I had gone, and it felt amazing. That is until I was passed by a man who looked about eighty. Who was going about ten million times faster than me.
Dont get me wrong, I was happy for him that he was obviously fit and healthy and enjoying a good run, and super impressed by his running ability… but for a split second I questioned how awesome I am. This is not good. I aim to try and get through life believing in my awesomeness as much as possible (apart from when I need to self-reflect/learn stuff about myself in order to grow etc etc yawn 😉 ).
For myself personally, comparing myself to someone faster doesn’t help me in any way. It doesn’t make me faster, in fact, it makes me want to quit. I really feel like it has taken a long time, but the yogic perspective of non-comparison on the mat has generally transferred into other areas of my life. Sometimes though, it can be a little too easy to think “I am like sixty years younger than that person, I probably shouldn’t be being lapped by them”.
But what good does that do me? Maybe if I was in the olympics it wouldn’t be a great sign for how well I was going to do. But right now my reasons for running are not about how fast I am or how far I can run. Today I needed to really remind myself of that in order to focus on what my personal run was supposed to be about- self care, lifting my mood, enjoying the beautiful weather, and appreciating that I am able to run and feeling the joy of that in every step.
So I mentally applauded the fit older man for crushing his run.
I ran the rest of the run with an awkward blissed out smile on my face.
I drank in the delicious sea air.
I marvelled at my ankle’s power to heal itself and carry me all over the city.
I took a walking break in order to enjoy the waterfront to the max.
I took a sitting break just because it felt pretty darn good.
I contemplated getting an ice cream but the thought of running all the way home with sprinkles and soft serve in my tummy was a bit much even for me.
It was one of my favourite runs ever.
What are your reasons for running?
Do you have a favourite running memory?