“Running a race is a lot like life.“
“Running a race is a lot like life.” This was the thought that kept playing in my mind as I was running my most recent half marathon (virtually, as is 2020).
Sometimes the goal is not to be the fastest or to set a new record. Sometimes the goal is just to finish the race.
I’ve been a runner for about six years now. When I think of how it started – literally running laps around my house sometimes when it was too late or too cold to run around the block, my cat chasing me all the way, wondering what game we were playing – to now, with eight half marathons under my belt and in the middle of a 100-mile challenge – it’s kind of amazing and startling to think about.
I am not a particularly fast runner, nor am I anywhere close to being some sort of professional athlete. Running is something I started as a way to get in shape and cope with my mental health. I keep up with it because I genuinely do not know where I’d be mentally or emotionally without this outlet. And while I do set goals and try to set new PR’s (pace records), I have noticed that there are times when I can almost immediately tell if a race is going to be one of my best, or if this is one I need to just do what I can to finish.
This past Monday was a race I just needed to finish. It was the Tulsa Route 66 virtual race, and I had not trained for it very well at all. I ran two races in October, and then the next thing I knew my short break from training turned into, “oh yea, I have a race next week.” I knew I could finish, but I also resigned myself days ahead of time that I would not be setting a new PR with this one.
Monday morning was colder, grayer, and windier than I expected it to be. I wasn’t super excited about running another virtual race around my neighborhood. I had no one to run with, and my body wasn’t in the shape I wanted it to be in. But I laced up my shoes, blasted some music in my ears, and set off.
It wasn’t an easy run. The course itself wasn’t incredibly challenging…it was the mental and emotional state that I found myself in that made this race especially challenging.
2020 Has Been Hard
As with basically every other human, 2020 hasn’t been my best year. My job is draining in every capacity. My boyfriend is in the middle of a job search. My family has suffered some setbacks, traumas, and death this year. I’m looking at thousands of dollars worth of damage to my house from an ice storm from the middle of October (what?). We’re in the middle of a global pandemic. Life is H A R D. And as I ran my usual route on Monday morning, I could feel the weight of everything 2020 had brought with it. Each step forward, my legs felt like they each weighed 100 pounds. By the time I reached my house at the halfway point to refill my water bottle, I was hunched over, cursing through the wind, pace abysmal, my legs barely able to take one more step. I wondered how I was going to finish. I wanted to cry.
But I paused. I stretched. I regrouped. And I set out for the second half, giving myself every mental pep talk I could think of.
And that’s when I began contemplating on the statement above. “Running a race is a lot like life.” And this race symbolized almost perfectly what 2020 has been like for me and for millions of others. This year hasn’t been about achieving our best. It hasn’t been about winning, setting new records, beating the odds. No, for so many of us, 2020 has been purely about survival. If we can only just make it to the finish line, that will be enough.
And life is like that sometimes, is it not? Life comes to us in seasons. Some seasons we feel invincible, on top of the world, like we can do anything and be anything. We crush goals and set new records. And then there are other seasons where we feel lucky just to climb out of bed in the morning.
This race felt like that to me – I felt lucky just to finish it. And I realized…that’s okay. I will not always be performing at my best. I will not always be beating my previous record or doing my best. Sometimes, in some seasons, I will merely be surviving. But the point is to keep going. Do not give up. Oh, how I wanted to give up on Monday. Who would know if I just turned back around and went home? Resigned myself that this just wasn’t my day, my week, my month? No one really knew I was running that morning except for Griffin, and he would still love me even if I didn’t finish the race.
“Giving up is easy.”
But, see, that’s another parallel to life. Giving up is easy. How many of us just quit before we’ve really begun? How many of us want to just resign ourselves to our current reality, mope around in the status quo, and say we’ll try again tomorrow? But finishing – crossing that finish line – no matter how hard it may be – that is always worth it. That will always feel better than quitting, even if it takes every ounce of strength inside of us to do so.
I am not weak because Monday was hard. I am not weak because 2020 is hard. Pushing through that race makes me that much stronger. Pushing through 2020 and taking it day by day makes me that much stronger. Ultimately, quitting on Monday was not an option for me. And quitting now isn’t an option for me either.
So as hard as life may be right now, take comfort that this is a season to get through. There are brighter seasons ahead. There are more races to conquer, more goals to set.
So for now, take heart, dear ones. You are stronger than you know, more capable than you thought possible, and you can finish this race. So lace up the running shoes, and keep pressing forward.
You got this.