It’s been one hell of a first month of the year for me.
A little over six weeks ago, I committed to the Oiselle Run Love Challenge, in which participants partner up and choose a run goal for the first six weeks of the year. As I write this we are in week five. My brobird Gio and I decided we’d aim for runs per week instead of mileage – five runs per week for a total of 30 runs before Valentine’s Day.
For the first time ever since I began considering myself a runner back in 2011, I totaled up my mileage for the month. Tired, and admittedly in bed, I excitedly tallied up my runs on the night of February 1st. With a little over a week to go and two more runs under my belt, I only have seven runs left to hit my Run Love Challenge goal of 30 runs. Over 21 runs in January, I logged 44.77 miles… or so I thought. Upon closer inspection (and Garmin Connect export to Excel) it turns out I ran 44.78 miles, so I was pretty close!
It gets far too easy to fall into the comparison trap. I saw my Instagram feed blowing up with “146.5 miles for the month” or “200 mile month goal met!” and started thinking that I should just keep my mileage to myself… but at what cost? Why not celebrate my own achievement? Why not simply celebrate everyone’s personal achievements for what they are?
It was a good exercise for me and a solid reminder that the only person I have to beat is who I was yesterday. As timing would have it, I received a card from Oiselle around the same time that asked me to set my intentions and share how I would “woman up” in 2016. Here’s what I wrote.
If there ever were a year for me to “woman up,” this is it, and this postcard from Oiselle gave me grounds to remind myself of what is truly important. Running saved my life from the wrath of eating disorders. Now I run because I am grateful to be alive, to be healthy, to be able to. I don’t want to set new PRs just for myself. I want to show my daughter what dedication, strength and sheer will look like. Her presence alone makes me ask more of myself. It’s time to woman up.
Let’s go, February. It’s time to show you what this woman is made of.