Okay, I don’t need to ever qualify for Boston. Assuming I consistently run the same marathon pace for the rest of my life, I could be 200 years old and Boston would still say I was too slow to run. Yup. I’m slow, I get it, and while I am indeed faster than I was a year ago I’m still relatively… sluggish. You know those people who just roll out of bed and run a half marathon in under 2 hours without ever having trained at all? Who run their first marathon in like 3 hours and change?
Yeah, I hate those people. They’re right up there with people who have really fast metabolisms.
Last week’s group run went so well and all my fears of being left behind were completely gone… I had found a group I could kinda keep up with!
Then I went this week and the only people who showed up ran 8 minute miles. For 10 miles. Or more miles. And then there was me. Way in the back. It was unpleasant. All paces were welcome, but not really. Apparently the slow people sleep in on Saturdays. I know we’re basically the scourge of this particularly exercise community, but I mean, come on–I go out to run with a group only to find I’m left behind and basically ostracized from the group. Hell, I even stayed out in the rain longer just to get my miles in. The leader asked me if I wanted her to stay and wait for me after the first 5 mile loop before starting the next leg–yeah, ’cause I really want to run knowing someone’s waiting there in the rain as the minutes tick by. I didn’t show up to have someone wait for me at the end, I showed up to have someone I could run with throughout. It was embarrassing.
This experience leads me to think that perhaps I’m just not cut out for running in a group. I enjoyed the fleeting moment I had but now it is completely gone and I’m dropped right back in where I started: alone. And honestly, if I wanted to run alone I could’ve slept ’til 8, had breakfast, and gone out for my run when it stopped raining.
But guess what? I didn’t die of embarrassment. I got my 9 mile run in (and then some), saw some pandas, and then felt no guilt vegetating on the couch while I watched a marathon of Joan Knows Best. I’m putting it in the win column.