Being in competition with yourself

"You're not going to pass me now, are you?" he said with a tired smile around mile six. "This is a no passing zone." 
I had been gaining on this man for a little while, hoping his pace would eventually match mine and I wouldn't have to pass him, which is always a bit awkward. This was my third "halfie": the Rogue River Half-Marathon in Southern Oregon, the only organized run of my half-marathon challenge. It's what I'd call a community run; you can tell a lot of the runners know each other and probably live in the same small town. The happy energy in the air of organized runs like this always make me a bit giddy inside, so I pretty much smiled like a goofball the whole time.

"I think both of us have been lapped several times at this point, " I said jovially, nodding towards the runners on the other side of the road who had already reached the turnaround point and were on their way back to where we started. This was an out-and-back course: run 6.5-ish miles, turnaround, and run back to the start/finish. That means you get to see each and every person who is running faster than you as you struggle to just get to the turnaround point. A point they have already decidedly left in the dust.

My dedicated crew (aforementioned dude in left of frame)

I suppose this could be seen as demoralizing, but I love it. I was at 5.5 miles when the leader of the race passed me on his way back to the finish line. It never crosses my mind to be in competition with those folks, so I just enjoy them. They're fun to watch because they actually RUN: knees high, long stride (I like to say I "run", but I really do a moderately paced shuffle). Their legs form the top of a snappy "Z" at the start of a stride. It's pretty. And damn, when the first woman flies by there is nothing more fun than belting out a giant "woohooo! First woman!" in her honor.

I once heard a yoga instructor talking about not comparing your flexibility to that of your neighbor: "The only difference between tight people and the loosest of loose people is that the loose people have to go farther to reach the same edge."  Amen, Yoga Man.

So why do we worry about who is passing us, who clocked a better time, who looks better in their sports bra? I might use people in front of me as pacers to catch, but it's not because I want to pass them, it's because I want to pass my own expectations of myself. That day I passed a lot of folks, didn't stop once, and felt like my pace was faster than in any of my other runs. And guess what? When I checked my time days later, I came in third in my age group... out of three runners in my age group. HA! That does not change the fact that for me the race was a big win: I pushed myself, I felt great, and I had F-U-N. If I had been busy comparing myself with those other folks I would have felt slow, frumpy, and exceedingly flat-chested. What a waste of a good run. So I'm going to keep being in competition with the one person I know I can successfully challenge every time: myself.

This little guy was with his mom along the route, cheering the runners on with this sign and lots of cow bell.