I Don’t Care How Fast You Run

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Sometimes, after a race, people will ask me what my time was. They want to know the number. I keep a record of them all because I try to beat myself. I’ll send you all my times. But here’s the thing:

What are you going to do with the numbers?

Why do you want to know how fast I run?

Maybe you want a running buddy and you want to see if I run at your pace. Maybe you have a spot open in your relay team and want me to join and be comfortable. Maybe you want to brag about me to all your friends (I am pretty adorable).

But seriously, why do you want to know?

I’m not a professional runner. I don’t run for my job. I’m also not out trying to win the races I join.

Who cares how fast I run? Who cares how fast you run? WHO CARES?

I live in a city where people take numbers and turn them into knives and stab themselves.

  • Not fast enough.
  • Not good enough.
  • Not strong enough.
  • I’m a bumbly.
  • I’m a sally.
  • I’ll look like a tourist.

Again, I’m going to ask this question: WHO CARES?

OK, some of you love numbers. I have some friends that want to win races and are amazing competitors. If that’s fun for you, that’s awesome! If your watch and your Garmin and your Strava make you happy like a little kid, you keep doing that (Is it REALLY making you happy?).

And now, I’m going to tell you some AMAZING questions to ask anyone who runs or skis or bikes or hikes or gets their butt off the couch to go to the gym:

IMG_4059How was it? Did you have fun?

For years, I was ashamed of how SLOW I ran. I hid from friends. I refused to run with other people. I turned numbers into knives and stabbed myself. I was bleeding all over the place.

So dumb.

Beautiful reader: No matter how fast you run, how hard you ski, how sick you bike, you look amazing every time you get out there and do something. You are awesome. Get out the door. Leave your watch at home. Instead of looking at your splits, look at the flowers and the trees and the dogs and the neighborhood kids. They are having a freaking blast.

Are you?

Take a deep breath. I’m going to hit you with a powerful truth: You are so gorgeous. You can stop stabbing yourself with self-doubt and self-critical thoughts. You have never deserved that.

Whatever the number, be proud of active and adorable you.

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