Beating myself

It seems that where my fitness and running is concerned it’s always a case of one step forward two steps back. There was the great 10k I ran recently, which really gave my running a boost, only to be followed by a pulled muscle in my back that made moving uncomfortable, and then I had a week where I was struggling to stay awake and feeling like I was moving through treacle the whole time.

So the result of that was a very poor parkrun, one of the slowest I’ve ever run, and a sense of relief that I managed to finish the distance at all.

This week I felt a lot better, and as I ran and realised how much better I felt than the previous week, it came to me that really, it doesn’t matter that John can do the distance faster with a twin buggy and dog, or Sue can do it faster and she’s older than me, or little Ben can finish before me and he’s only 9. It doesn’t matter what anyone else is doing. In the end, it really does come down to me. I’m the one who got myself out there. I’m the one pushing myself. Am I doing the best I can? Am I doing better than I did previously?

And this applies in other aspects of my life too; it doesn’t matter that Fred and Mary have finished and published their novels, or that Becky is on book 4. What matters is that I put the effort in and I do the best I can.

My aim should always be to beat myself. And that doesn’t mean beat myself up.


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