I'm a good runner.

A few months ago I told someone I had only just met about my recent return to running--the early mornings, the cross-training, my grand goals. Unbeknownst to me he had been a collegiate cross country runner and although he meant no harm, the first words to leave his mouth were, "You know, you're really too tall to be a good runner."

I've thought about that exchange countless times since it happened. Oh how I wish I would have said something other than my mumbled, "Yeah, um...I am really tall." Why did I agree with his assessment of my body? Or the limitations he put on my abilities? Why, even for a moment, did I buy into his definition of a "good runner." 

That's not the only comment I've received in the same vain, all meant with the best of intentions. 

"You're not that fast." 

"You might not improve." 

"Maybe you should find a sport you like more, or you're better at." 

While I never took offense from them, these comments forced me to be introspective about my decision to run. If I'm being honest, these comments forced me to be introspective about so many different choices in my life--religion, motherhood, service. Why, I have found myself asking, do I do the things that I do?

My introspection led me to this running realization: I may never be very fast, I will always be ridiculously tall, I may never adore running and I might not improve. In essence, I guess they are all right. 

But my introspection also led me to this realization: I am a runner. I am a really good runner. I am rocking this whole running thing and I'm prouder than I've ever been of what my mind, body and soul can accomplish. Because my definition of success has nothing to do with my time or my posture or even my enjoyment, my definition of running success has to do with finishing. I set goals and accomplish them. I put time and energy into improving. I work hard. I'm dedicated. I'm positive. I start with a head held high and regardless of what happens next, I finish.

And is it hard? Yes, it's hard.

And do I like it? Only when it's over, and sometimes not even then.

But being hard or not liking it, those things don't rob my running or any other decisions in my life of their meaning. In fact, accomplishing things that are particularly difficult, sometimes unpleasant and push me outside of my comfort zone tend to be the most meaningful. And so it is with running. 

A few weeks ago I ran my half marathon and those pictures and words are for a different post, but a few days after my race I woke up early, laced up my Asics and went for a run. It's the first time in my life I've ever continued running after accomplishing a race goal and that's when I realized that I've graduated. I no longer just run, but I am a runner. A good runner.

A few recent running snaps:

I fell on mile four of a six mile run and got up with skinned knees and a bloody palm but just kept going. It's a long way down when you fall as a 6-footer and I'm so grateful that the worst of my injuries could be calmed with a band-aid. 

During my half marathon training I literally never missed one scheduled run and I'm so proud of my consistency. One day James pulled an all-nighter and was still gone in the morning so I couldn't go on my run. It would have been easy to use this an an excuse but instead when the kids got home from school I packed them in the car, drove to the UCLA track, and did my scheduled run while they cheered me on from the bleachers. I love this little team!

Sweaty, post-run pic!

These last two are from Ash's visit just this last week, which was the greatest. I wish we could always go on our morning runs together!