You read about it. People tell you about it. It’s all the rage. “That feeling” you get when you cross the finish line of your first half marathon or your first marathon. It’s accomplishment. It’s euphoria. It’s an ~on top of the world I can do anything~ feeling.
Huh. I pretty much felt like I ran 26.2 miles and I could have done it better. I could have done it like those other people did. I ran it way too slow. I stopped and used the restroom. I walked that hill.
It just didn’t feel like…
I’m figuring out it’s my own way of processing life. The way I see things. Even when I try to be proud of myself, it just doesn’t work. I am too good at seeing the negative side I guess.
Don’t get me wrong. I do see the accomplishment. I just see the where improvement could be made and that overrides everything else.
My son recently said to me, “you run a ten minute mile? That’s really slow”.
“Yes,” I said, “but I run 26 of them”.
Feeling the need to justify my ten minute mile.
He was joking. Apparently.
As he runs a 6 minute mile one has to wonder.
But I would like to see how many of those he could run.