The alarm clock went off at 4AM and I questioned my existence on planet earth. Why in heaven’s name did I ever think this was a good idea. I looked my my outfit laid out and my almost brand new sneakers that showed little to no wear and I wondered how this day would pan out. I secretly prayed that lightning would stop the day from progressing, that I would be pulled off the road in a sea of strangers and told that the race wouldn’t continue but deep down I wanted to get out and make something happen to prove that I could, that I still had it in me. On Saturday I took off on my fifth go at Grandma’s Marathon, I’ve run the full twice and now the half three times. The truth was, this whole race has been a bit of a stressor in my life. When my brother texted my sister and I asking if we wanted to run it with him, I said yes in the hopes that signing up would get me back into the running bug. The last time I ran the full with Drew I burnt out so hard that lacing up my running shoes seemed like an awful lot of work and not a lot of fun. When we got into the race this year, I kept telling myself that I still had __ amount of weeks to train. That number that filled the space slowly dwindled and my brand new sneakers stayed in their box.
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For those of you that know me, you know that I do CrossFit five days a week, so it’s not like I was avoiding my wellbeing all together, but I definitely wasn’t bit by the running bug like I had hoped but the fact that I was somewhat comfortable in approaching a half marathon with zero actual training is a testament to CrossFit’s ability to cross train. A time came when I clung to the quote, “You can do anything but not everything.” I looked at the last few months and saw a whirlwind of travels, Sundays spent with Drew, time hanging outside with my neighbors, and the beginning of wedding season. What I didn’t see was training, but the truth was, I was okay with it. I think in life we put so much pressure on ourselves to be good at everything we do and for once I was signed up for something that I knew I could do, but it wasn’t going to be anything impressive. Sometimes it isn’t about being the best, sometimes it’s about proving to yourself that you are capable. I joked about the fact that I might crawl across the finish but deep down I knew that I could run the dang race, I just needed to stay in my own lane. It’s easy in running and life to compare your race with others, to look at the pursuit ahead of us as we go through life and question our pace, our technique, our training but as that gun sounded and I took off, I felt the most free I have ever felt during a race. The expectations were low, there were no numbers blinking on a watch telling me how fast or slow this was happening, there was just me in a sea of strangers, all setting out to put one foot in front of the other towards the finish. I can honestly say that for once in my life I was okay with whatever pace I went at, all I wanted to do was to enjoy the moments for what they were (if that’s possible while running for two hours) and to cross that finish line with something resembling a smile.
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The result? I was average. No, literally, I finished in exactly the time the average person finished the race out of 8,000 participants. Two hours and ten minutes after that gun went off, I scrambled across the finish line and smiled. That whole not training thing probably wasn’t the wisest technique but it worked and I finished and I celebrated as much as a lady with sore hips and tight hamstrings could. For once in my life I was so content in being average that I celebrated that statement, something that would make me cringe in the past. I felt able, I felt happy, I felt sore, but most of all average just felt good. Something has hit me this year where I have fully understood that my desires to be great in everything I do have dwindled, I’ve realized that I can do anything I want (even run 13.1 miles without training) but that if I want to be truly great as a wife, a daughter, a sister, a photographer, a teacher, I need to stay in my lane, to stop the comparison game, to run my own race, to set a pace that feels good, to stop to high five strangers, and tie my shoe, to be okay with the imperfections, and to remember that one imperfect foot in front of the other makes things happen.
I never thought average could feel so darn good.
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I love your comment about “staying in your own lane.” In my competitive office, I explain to people my yoga philosophy of “focusing on my own mat” – and not the fancy handstands and splits happening around me. Thanks as always for your honesty and fresh perspective, Jenna!