I Am Not a Runner
What have I done, I thought to myself as I stepped into the corral that cold September morning. Months earlier, under a moment of psychosis, I registered to run a half marathon. You have to understand something about me – I am not a runner. I tried it once, and found that I don’t enjoy side cramps and feeling like I am going to die. Go figure. Years ago, I ran a 10K race (a little over 6 miles), and I vowed that I would never do that again. Yet here I was, jumping up and down to try to stay warm, and waiting to venture out on a relaxing 13-mile run. But I am not a runner.
Leading up to the race, I had some people ask me why I was doing it. It was a good question, because it does put your body through a lot of strain, and most people who know me know that I am not one who loves self-inflicted strain. But with each additional mile I ran, I found out that I was stronger than I thought I was. I was doing something I never thought I would, or could do. I followed a training plan, I worked hard, and before you knew it I was running double digit miles. It was hard, draining work, but I did it. And on race day, despite the jitters, I knew that I would finish that race. And I did! I ran without stopping, I beat my goal for pacing, and I finished it. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty proud of myself. But I am not a runner.
Even though I trained hard, I had all the gear, and I ran over 13 miles, I still find it hard to say that I am a runner. I’m more like a poser. A wannabe. For some reason, I don’t feel like I have earned the right to give myself that title. Maybe it’s because I still sometimes dread going out for a run. I dread pretty much any form of exercise, though, but I do it anyway. And oddly enough, I feel so much better mentally and physically when I finish a run. Nothing will clear your mind better than running. But I am not a runner.
The other day I met a woman who was wearing scrubs, and I asked her what she did. She said she worked in a lab, but when I pressed her for more details it turns out that she is the one who is analyzing samples and data, running tests, and coming up with conclusions about what she sees. “So, you are like a scientist?” I asked. “Well yeah,” she said, “that is what my actual title is...” Here was this smart, educated woman with a freakin’ cool job, and she was downplaying her own abilities. She worked hard to get where she is today, and in my mind, she had earned the right to use that title! I encouraged her to own it and be proud of what she does. But I am not a runner.
After talking with her I recognized my own hypocrisy. It is so easy for me to applaud or encourage someone else, but when it comes to my own goals or achievements, I downplay them. It is good to be humble, but what I am doing isn’t a form of humility – it is a form of doubting my own worth. Don’t claim to be something that you are not, but if you work hard and make it happen, then maybe you should own it. Don’t be that obnoxious person who only talks about yourself and brags about how awesome you are, but don’t downplay what you have done, either. If you have earned it, then you are worthy of being in the club. I am a runner.