Running Your Own Race

So, oversaturated with music, sun, and annoyance/sadness at the slow, continuing death of care and consideration in today's society (but surprisingly, not oversaturated with beer)I took yesterday off of work. Mandy dragged me out for a run, but by screwing around at home, I was able to run us so late that she only had time for a three mile run rather than four or five. Still, that run and the five miles after gave me lots to think about and pass on.

Mandy was also recovering from ACL. Something about beer and cigarettes, and no running. Mandy's a trouper, and a machine - she'll chug through any distance - but I kept realizing that she was running at my pace, and I was having a good running day. She probably didn't get as good a workout as she would have going a bit slower.

She left, I continued on for another five miles. Without Mandy to keep me company and make me conscious of pace, I sped up a bit, and it was a constant struggle to keep myself at a reasonable pace.

With a couple of miles to go, I was still feeling pretty strong. I passed a sturdy, tanned runner on the Ann Richards Congress Avenue Bridge. He kept a short distance behind me, though.

I get very self-conscious of the often unintentional sort of cat-and-mouse that can happen running on the trail, where you and/or another runner keep varying pace, and passing each other. Some part of me is competitive and wants to catch/keep up with/stay ahead of some other runners. But I know it's stupid - the other runner could be running twice or half as far as I am. They could be injured. They could be running too fast and will blow up as soon as they get out of sight. They could just be the 55% of runners in any given race who are simply faster than me.

He was keeping his distance behind me, then I lost track of him. I didn't want to look back, for fear it'd be taken as a challenge. I heard steps, but it was another, much faster runner. That's fine, let him go.

I didn't realize it, but I had increased my pace passing this guy earlier, and had kept the pace up, and it was starting to wear on me a little. The heat had also just started to pour on in the last twenty minutes. I flagged a bit going up that small hill approaching the train trestle on Cesar Chavez, and the guy passed me.

I was sort of glad it was over, though I was annoyed that I had clearly let up on a hill.

I stopped for water at the Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge, thinking it was good that he'd get even more distance on me, and it would truly be done.

Drink, drink, drink, gulp, gulp, gulp... I looked up, and there was someone at the fountain next to me. It was him. He had run back.

He started running again, and I did, too, just behind him. I had gotten a slight recharge from the stop and the water. I tried to hold my pace down, but it didn't feel right. I passed him. And again, he maintained pace right beside me.

Finally, he broke the awkwardness by saying something about the heat, I think, and we started chatting.

It turns out that this guy, Dr. Alan Brock, had run the Pike's Peak Marathon this summer. Thirteen miles up, thirteen miles down. In July. Furthermore, it turns out that he actually ran... to get to the race. He logged, if I heard and recall correctly, well over a thousand miles this summer.

I would have felt very small, but he was just very cool and matter-of-fact about it.

Back at Mopac, I was done with my eight, and he decided to keep running. I think he was only going to run eight for the day, and I was excited that I had hit eight, as well. On the other hand, he was still recovering from running 24 miles a day for 40 days.

So, aside from meeting this guy and learning about this amazing thing he had accomplished, the whole day was all an abject reminder of that most important of running rules: run your own run, run your own race. It's fun to challenge yourself, and even to get into secret and not-so-secret competitions with other runners. But keep it in perspective. Get too hung up on what everyone else around you is doing, and you'll run too fast, too long, too much, even. You'll miss out on learning to find your motivation to run within yourself, and not relying on keeping up with your friend, or catching that other guy. And you might miss out on meeting someone pretty cool and learning something... maybe a little humility.