Going the distance

Before I say this, I’ll acknowledge that I know this is stupid and I have since corrected my attitude.

Here it is:

After my race on Sunday, I just didn’t feel the pride I used to feel when I ran a 5K. Back when 5K was the farthest distance I raced, it felt like an epic feat and it left me drained/in nap mode for the rest of the day.

Now, it seems like just another 3 miles. Just another 5K.

Never mind that I ran this race 1:21 faster than I’ve ever run a 5K before, or that I shaved 8:28 off my very first 5K time. I should be proud that I’m even freakin’ out there running, considering where I was a year and a half ago (not freakin’ out there running).

Many people will never run a 5K, so the distance is nothing to sneeze at. Many runners will never race farther than a 5K, and that’s totally fine. I don’t mean to belittle it at all.

But I live for challenges, and this race just made me realize that pushing for new PRs isn’t what I really want to do. What I really want to do is run my marathon. What I really want to do is longer triathlons. A half Ironman. An Ironman.

I really want to keep challenging myself with new events and distances.

And what made me proud about Sunday, on top of that 5K, was that I actually did what I planned to do and ran 10 miles afterward to complete the 13 miles on my training plan.

(Please note that after the same 5K last year, I ate a delicious, greasy lunch, drank a mimosa and then slipped into a restful coma.)

Runners constantly grow and change and become challenged by different things. What challenged me a year ago is now just a warmup. What was outright impossible a year ago is now just another day of marathon training.

I like this about running — that it’s easy to see how far you’ve come and to imagine how far you can go.

Oh, the possibilities.

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