I have always thought that running is not for the proud. While running, I have seen fellow runners bleed, vomit, faint, and perform about every bodily function you don’t want to imagine.
However, I am slowly learning that running is not only about other people’s humility, it is about my pride.
Until I recently reinjured my ankle, I had been running faster than ever. I dreamt of setting personal records.
Because I am gimpy again, on Saturday I missed the Albuquerque Half Marathon. I don’t know yet if I will make it to the Shiprock Marathon on May 5th. The training is done, the spirit is willing, but the ankle is weak.
Today, during mid-run, I made a stop into the Athletes Edge. When I asked how to keep the kinesio tape on my leg, they said to shave them. When I asked if I could still run the marathon at goal pace, they told me to listen to my body and just enjoy the experience. Talk about humility.
All of this has caused me to ask myself what kind of runner, and what kind of person, I aspire to be. Is it necessary for me to reach arbitrary time goals at the expense of injury? Is it necessary for me to achieve things in life that don’t really matter to reach arbitrary life goals? Is my value in life based on my minutes per mile pace or my resume?
Of course not.
Yet, when the blood gets flowing it is hard to balance my prideful internal drive with the limitations of my middle aged body.
I am learning, I am learning, I am limited.