Today, I ran in my first ever 10K - that's 6.2 miles (in case you were wondering). It was windy, it was cold, I had to fight pooping dogs, and I encountered some serious hills I didn't plan for. In spite of everything, I came in at 53:3?.
I wanted to be mad at myself. I wanted to tell myself I should have worked harder. I wanted to shake my fist at mother nature. And then I called coach.
Initially, I told him I was upset that I didn't do better and he ask me why. He asked me what I thought I should have done, and why. Well, I didn't have an answer for that. There was no science behind the magic number I thought I should have run. He told me that I ran a damn good race, for my first ever 10K, and just think, next time will be better. I gave him the, "yeah, but..."
To which he replied, "no... think of where you were a year ago... 6 months ago.... you are still a beginner and you will get stronger, and you will get faster."
I thought about it. A year ago, I couldn't run a mile straight through. Six months ago I was running 11 minute miles, no more than three or four at a time. Today, I ran 6.2 miles in 53:3?, and I am very proud of that.
He reminded me that the best runners have been doing this awhile, and I need to have the patience and give myself the grace to grow. He couldn't be more right.
May your day be filled with sage advice.
Andrea
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