Yesterday was the first decent run I've had since becoming sick a few weeks ago, and what a nice morale booster it was! A little over 6k and hilly, which I'm feeling today but I don't mind. It felt great to be out there! As I was looking at my route map it occurred to me that the elevation maps don't always tell a true story. One of my favourite routes covers some nice big hills that don't show on the map because the land elevation is different from the street elevation; two of the hills I like to run are highway overpasses.
As I was running I was thinking about the progress I've made in the past few months. My breathing's better, my form and pacing are better, and I can cover much longer distances. But my speed? Meh. Pretty much as good as it ever was with small bursts of better. So I was thinking...does it matter to me? Is racing important to me? And I have to confess, it's not.
When I think about the kind of runner I want to be, I don't often think about how fast I covered the distance. I want to be the kind of runner who finishes the run she starts. I want to be the kind of runner who covers the distance not effortlessly but comfortably. I want to be the kind of runner who casually says, "Just heading out for a run, back in an hour" or "What a gorgeous day, did five miles this morning and loved every minute of it." I want to be the kind of runner who's lean and energetic and who smiles while she runs. I want to be the kind of runner who signs up for a race not to try to win it but for the fun of it. The only competition I think about is the one in my own head...can I go farther? longer? faster than the last time? That's the kind of runner I want to be, and that's the kind of runner I am.
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