Everything hurt. My breath came in quick, jagged spurts, and my legs felt numb as I willed them to go faster, trying in vain to pick up the pace. It was December, a few days after Christmas, and evidently, I had not dressed warm enough for the cold weather even in not-so-far-North North Carolina. I was participating in what was supposed to be a fun, easy 5K charity race to start off the morning. Instead, I was pushing myself to the limits, simultaneously beating myself up for not running faster, and not enjoying the race and its charitable New Year spirit at all.
I crossed the finish line with a grimace on my face and a time of 27:53, over five minutes away from a personal record. Spectators congratulated me at the finish line, but I refused to acknowledge their praise. My dad said, “Good job,” and I huffed out a comment about my terrible time.
For many years of my short life, I have been an avid runner. My journey began in eighth grade when my dad, who had returned to his former running hobby, invited me to run with him. At the time, I was not the least interested in any sport, let alone running. I was that kid who had a little ankle pain on track and field day and milked it for all it was worth to get out of at least a few events. Though I participated in most of the activities, I was never near the front of the pack in any event that required speed.
However, after my dad repeated his request a few times, I agreed and found myself running beside my dad on a gravel, half-mile loop wearing jean shorts and a school uniform polo. A couple of days later, he invited me to join him again. I figured that, since I had already joined him once, I might as well go again.
Eventually, my dad stopped asking, but I kept running with him anyway. Running became easier, I started getting faster, and it was fun to share a special activity with my dad. Running can grow addictive when you immerse yourself deeper into the running world. Later, I started a focused training program with strength training, speed work, and longer runs. I even ran my first half-marathon while in high school.
Then something changed. Somewhere along the way, running became all about the numbers: race times and performances. I set several personal records toward the end of high school, only to have a couple injuries disrupt my routine. Then, I started college, and life became busier. Training was not the main focus of my life that it once was, yet I still expected the same results.
This led to many moments of frustration like those I experienced after last December’s 5K.
In the wake of high expectations and feelings of failure, I completely missed the spirit of running. Part of me was scared I had peaked in high school and would never achieve the same times again.
Finally, after several months of feeling frustrated every time I went for a run, I decided to make a change. From now on, I would intentionally run fewer miles, less often, and at a slower pace, focusing on the feeling of running itself. I found that instead of being mad for not performing better, I was thankful every time I had a chance to run.
Then, an opportunity arose when my dad asked if I wanted to run the annual Boilermaker 5K with him in Utica, New York. The Boilermaker is a fairly well-known event with a community focus that attracts recreational runners and elite athletes alike, especially for the 15K distance. It is a large event, the website boasting that it draws “over 20,000 runners, spectators, and volunteers” to the area.
I had never run the race before, but rarely do I turn down the chance to run with my dad, which is a rare event since attending college out-of-state. I readily agreed, and set one goal for myself: Finish with a smile.
The morning of the race, there were still butterflies in my stomach, but I calmed myself by promising to run for the joy of movement instead of focusing on times or statistics. The mindset shift allowed me to stay in the moment and take in the sights. The Boilermaker event planners do a great job of creating a unique and fun atmosphere for runners and spectators alike. The course featured live music at several points, and there was even a group of bag-pipe players.
My dad and I ran most of the course together, until I pulled slightly ahead at the end, so we were able to simultaneously enjoy each other’s company and the cool course. In the end, I technically ran slower than my December run, but the experience was much more satisfying. I did finish with a smile.
Frequently in life, we get caught up in performance and forget to enjoy the process. This can apply to many things, such as school, hobbies, or extracurricular activities. It is easy to feel weighed down when we set high expectations on ourselves and we lose sight of why we started in the first place. This week, take a moment to step back, relish the process, and enjoy the moment.
I’m much slower than I used to be, but I am grateful that I can enjoy the process of staying active. It is still frustrating at times when running a 6-minute mile is far beyond my capabilities, and I miss the feeling of running fast, but it isn’t all about performance anymore. The truth is I am focusing on other things at this stage in life. Maybe someday I will return to the sport, but for now, I am testing some new active interests. Through my experimentation, I carry one motto to each pursuit: Finish with a smile.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.