If you can’t get past the clock, you’re doing it wrong

I was all set to write a follow-up post to my Things That Saved My Running post a few days ago, but there’s something else pressing on my mind, and I’m hoping I can get some answers.  I know this whole NaBloPoMo thing is causing a lot of people to just click through posts on their readers, which is fine, but if you are a runner or another type of athlete and you stop to read anything from me this month, hopefully this will be it.

In the last year, I have known at least forty people that have finished one marathon or more. Out of those approximate forty, about half of them have been disappointed with their race in one way or another. So far, none of this is entirely out of the ordinary. What I’ve been noticing, though, is that the importance people are putting on these races and then the subsequent guilt they’re putting themselves through when the end result isn’t ideal. I think this is insane.

There, it’s said. I think long-term guilt about a race when running is not your job is insane. In fact, guilt even when it is your job is a little ridiculous as most pros will probably tell you that if you don’t move on, you never get where you need to be. But for a recreational runner, no paychecks were lost and no one’s not able to pay their mortgage because you couldn’t run your race. It is just not that significant. That is how I see it.

Now, before we get too far, let me say that I get it. I get that races are important to us and reaching a goal is important. I get that. I understand the miles, the years, the pain, the planning, the money, the everything that goes into entering one marathon. I get it. I get that it’s physically and mentally and emotionally demanding. I get that your entire life for sixteen weeks or more is built around this one day. I have put in those miles, I have spent that money. I understand. Now, I am not as fast as some of you, as MOST of you, actually, but my miles are just as long as yours.  I. Get. It.

In the last few weeks, though, I’ve heard and read so many marathon accounts wherein you’d think the runner was running her last race. You’d think that this was her one and only shot at anything in life and it’s gone. The reality is that this runner is a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer, a driver, a splinter remover, a board room presenter, a vacuum repairer, a dog walker, a toilet cleaner, a volunteer, a motivator, a friend, a lover, and so much more. This runner is not just a runner. So why a person would consider themselves a failure and hash things over dramatically for weeks on end based on a single race is beyond me.

I get that the moments and even days after the disappointing race can be tough. But even then, if you can’t appreciate the effort you just gave, and the absolute miracle that is your body being able to do those things, I think you’re doing it wrong. Running this race is only a part of your life and if you let a bad day take over all of those other things that make you you, then you are doing it all wrong.

Put another way, if you are a recreational runner that is qualifying your worth as a runner by the clock, you are doing it all wrong.

I am not trying to offend anyone, and I’m not trying to disqualify anyone’s feelings here. I am just tired of someone letting a 4:40 when they were really shooting for a 4:15 take over their life. The only person that defines you by a number is you, and that’s not fair. Just as when you let yourself be defined by that “good” number sometimes, too. I think that is also wrong.

You are neither as good or as bad as any number that any clock might read. You are fast, you are slow. You felt like you were flying, you cramped and had to stop. You trotted along with ease in your stride, you could barely breathe.  You felt free, you felt trapped. None of that is good or bad, it only is.

The parts that do matter, that don’t change no matter what the clock reads: You took care of your body. You appreciated your health. You set a goal. You worked. You worked hard. You worked hard to run another day. You got up and out on the mornings you didn’t want to. You pushed through. You joined together with others in a remarkable community. You set an example. You kept going.  These are the things that are bigger than numbers. These are the things that will always be satisfying.

These things that carry on long after the finish line is crossed, long after that medal starts collecting dust. That attachment to that day that didn’t go well?  Let it go. You are so many other things above and beyond that number.  Besides, you have to get over it… there are toilets to clean.