athleticgals.com

So.  2 weeks ’til showtime.  Hm.  I’ve registered for that half marathon and my ego has made certain that everyone who meets my smiling mug knows about it.  So.  I’m gonna hafta do it.  I’ve been training.  It’s going to happen.  It’s not that this is a crisis of confidence, exactly.  More, well, an ego thing.  I’m not fast.  How not fast I am is none of your business, in fact, but I’m not kidding when I say that I couldn’t care less about my time.  This is my first one and  I just want to finish it.  Whenever it is that I do.  Like I said, it’s not a race.  Not for me, at any rate.  Although I might have liked it better if my uberfit friend hadn’t taken my advice and signed up too.  It will take strength of will not to feel silly huffing and puffing over the finish line long after he will have stopped perspiring.  Probably very long after.  But still.  Funny how even in individual type sports the competitive drive is hard to lay to rest.  Does it matter to me that many of the people I know think I’m a hero just this side of superhuman for showing up for this event?  Of course, but it is hard to ignore the ginormous performance gap between myself and the previous marathoner, the hardened triathlete, the dude who runs for 10 miles in the sleet, then does yoga, and never stops smiling about it.  A drive for improvement is a healthy thing as long as it stays useful and doesn’t become destructive.  I get that.  Humility is quite a becoming trait in an athlete of any caliber. I definately get that.  How is it, anyway, that  someone who is reasonably well adjusted can still find themselves feeling threatened by the performance of a friend? Frankly, it irks me that this irks me.  I’ve usually got such good perspective about such things.  Before race day, I will come to grips again with my place in the runners’ world.  Egos are such funny things. -DG