Measuring Sticks…

Once upon a time, I was the QUEEN of measuring sticks. I carried one every single place I went. There was always one in my reach.

I would pull it out & measure myself up to everyone & everything. It did not matter what I was measuring against, I always fell short.

Never good enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough, not fast enough. Clothes weren’t good enough. My shoes not stylish enough.

One day, I finally realized what I was doing to myself. I realized I was looking at everything so wrong. I realized it was time to burn up my measuring stick.

Unfortunately, sometimes our old habits tend to fight their way back inside randomly.

Last week I was out running. I was doing just a simple two miles.I looked down at my watch at one point in time & realized I was close to running the fastest two miles in a while.

No, not my fastest two miles ever. But, faster than I had recently.

I felt proud in that moment. I felt as if my hard work was paying off. I felt as if I was making progress. I felt as if fighting through Insanity Max 30 was worth the fight!

I pushed hard to finish & I looked to see, in fact, it was faster than normal. I was excited to share that fact & I had a post written in my mind.

But, then…

I pulled out the measuring stick, “for real, you’re not fast. They just ran a 5k this weekend with a much faster pace than you just ran two in.”

I went from being excited & feeling stronger to completely knocking myself back down to the ground. Why?

To compare myself against others is not living by my motto of “just do you.” To measure myself against others is not accepting myself. To measure myself up against others takes all the joy out of life.

I cannot measure up against you. You’re you; I’m me. I have learned that all I can do every day is show up, live life with my passions out loud, use the tools & the body I was given & work hard towards my own goals.

You see, from a running point, I’m different. I wasn’t blessed with a runner’s body. I was blessed with my body & to compare it to yours would not be loving the one I was given. No, I’m not tall with long legs to cover so much ground with a single stride. No, I don’t weigh 120 pounds.

On a good day (& I mean REALLY good day) I stand 5’4″. If I ever weigh 120, I’m afraid my days here might be numbered because I was built solid. I have short legs that I refer to as my tree trunks; I once hated them & now I love them.

I broke my measuring stick. I don’t want it. Ever again.

Those two miles I ran at a pace of 9:53 for a total time of 19:51. Guess what? This morning I ran two miles & it took me 21:29. Yes, slower than last week’s two mile run. Guess what my pace was for my 10 mile run on Sunday? 10:52. I will tell you that some days I feel like I am truly a runner & other days I feel like I have never ran a mile in my life. Running is not something that comes naturally to me; I have to work at it.

I no longer care. I once feared judgement; I once was afraid that others would look at my pace & laugh at me. I feared they would measure me up to themselves or to others.

Please feel free. Because, you see, I am running my own race. I am running against the runner I was yesterday. I am running towards the runner & the woman I want to be.

You’re not in my race. I’m the only runner in it. So I guess, I’ll just do me & I am pretty damn proud of that. My measuring stick is broken & I have no intention of pulling it back out.

Until Next Time~