This morning, I met a friend for a morning run.
Neither of us is a beginner runner, and as we started, we talked about how our running has been going lately. My friend told me the lessons he had learned during his recent 30-mile run.
Yes, you read that right. He got up one day to see if he could run 30 miles. As it turns out, he can.
I picked a strategic downhill part of the run and shared how my running has been so far this year. I started the year with a goal to run 100 miles in January and then increase the mileage by 5% each month. It’s the end of May, and I’ve hit my goal each month.
At this point, I was blown away at his 30-mile run, and he was blown away at my monthly mileage.
Funny thing about runners, though. Give us enough time, and we will absolutely begin to compare what we’re doing with what someone else is doing.
Case in point? By the end of our run this morning (which my friend killed, and which almost killed me), we were both rethinking our training strategies.
I run 5 times a week, and because this morning’s run seemed harder than I thought it should have, I was wondering if I should run less times each week. I mean, my friend doesn’t run 5 times a week, and he just ran 30 miles!
Ironically, my friend was wondering if he should increase his weekly mileage because the last few miles of his 30-miler were so hard (I mean, shouldn’t they have been???). Maybe running more would help him be more ready if he tries another ultra run like that again?
Lost in all of that comparison is what should be celebrated: he completed the 30-mile run, and I’ve run more miles each month this year. We’re both arguably in the best shape of our lives and feel great about where we are.
Comparison is a rabbit hole, y’all, and if you take it, you can find yourself so far off course that you don’t know how to get back to where you should be. Not only can it rob you of your unique purpose, but it can rob you of the joy that comes in the pursuit of that purpose.
One more thing: my friend and I both have a goal in common (but that’s for another time and another post), which means that even though we may train differently, we’ll have opportunities to celebrate at least one accomplishment together.
As long as we stick to what works for each other while celebrating how the other one works, we can each enjoy the fruits of our labor.
Even when, at least in my case, the runs actually feel like labor.
The running kind, not the birthing kind. Thankfully, nothing I do in training will ever compare to the birthing kind. 😀
