Removing the Qualifiers
Last Friday, I did something scary. I went to a class at my gym called “Tri Tread” – forty-five minutes of various running drills on a treadmill to help participants prepare for a triathlon. From across the gym, I’ve gazed in wonder at the group of lithe ectomorphs who populate this class. I’ve wanted to join their ranks for awhile now, but, frankly, I’d been scared that I can’t keep up.
Plus, treadmills are terrifying. Seriously. No other piece of workout equipment physically ejects you if you fail to make pace.
Fear aside, I decided to go for it.
As I warmed up, the instructor, someone I knew well from other classes, came over to welcome me. She told me not to worry about the other people in the class – some of whom had been training for awhile now – and to work at my own pace.
“Good,” I said, “because I’m a bad runner.”
An alarm went off in my head. This is exactly the type of thinking I’m trying to combat.
Why did I feel a need to qualify my running ability? Whether I’m a good runner or a bad runner, I’m still a runner. I’m still out there running. What’s more important: my mile time or my willingness to try? Everyone has to start someplace.
I made it through the whole class and left feeling quite proud of myself. I’m going to make this class a regular part of my week.
[It must be said that none of this could have been accomplished without the encouraging, inspiring trainers and coaches at Equinox who assure me, daily, that anything is possible if I’m willing to put in the time. I am willing. I am a runner.]