A few years ago, I lined up at the start of the Rock the Parkway half marathon with my close friend and running partner, Barbara. I felt good. I’d recently run a PR, and I’d been training well that spring. I could feel another fast (for me) finish just a couple hours ahead.
My plan was to stick with Barbara for the first half or so and then, knowing she had a crazy competitive streak, let her go while I finished strong on my own. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. She was out of my sights by mile two. By mile four, it was all I could do to keep running. Not only did I hate that race in the moment, but I silently swore off all future running, too. It was a tough day.
It was unbelievably humid, and RtP is quite a bit hillier than the race organizers would have you believe. But what really slowed me down that morning was my surprising, and completely overwhelming, realization that Barbara was a faster runner than me. Much faster.
We’d been training together for months, running lockstep for 10 to 12 miles every Saturday. I had good and bad days, and so did she. We slowed down for each other when necessary, and ran faster when we both felt strong. There was none of that maddening, running backwards while cheering stuff that some faster runners pull on their slower friends. We just ran and talked, like women runners do.
So, how was it that on race day she could magically finish more than 10 minutes ahead of me? She didn’t train harder. But maybe she handled the heat better. Or maybe it was because she had more running miles under her belt. Maybe she got more sleep because her kids were older. I exhausted my creativity looking for reasons.
Then I struggled with running for a long, long time. It was several years before I got back to that elusive PR pace. And then one day, I realized how stupid I was being. My race, and my pace, had nothing to do with Barbara’s. No matter how fast she runs, I can still run 13.1 miles. That’s no small feat.
Even on the days when something like crummy weather, sick kids, or a bad attitude almost gets the best of me, I keep running. Again, no small feat.
As silly as it seems now, I don’t think I’m alone in comparing myself to others. I think most women do it a lot more than we’d like to admit. So, take a minute and think back. Have you ever been derailed by comparing yourself to a friend or a stranger, to someone faster – or thinner, or prettier, or smarter, or whatever – than you? Even when you were accomplishing great things? I thought so.
On July 7, KCE is excited to host Erin Brown, a writer and speaker from Lawrence, Kansas, who’s developed a 21-day practice to help women find peace in their own skin. Let’s learn to celebrate our own accomplishments and quit looking around for someone who does it better. Let’s learn to accept ourselves As Is.
Meredith Lai trained for her first half marathon with KCE in 2007. Most Saturdays you can find her running with her speedy BFF, Barbara.