About 3 days after I completed my marathon, an awful awful feeling started creeping in.
Days 1 and 2 were filled with a little bit of disbelief. Except for the profound ache in my quads, I wasn’t quite sure I’d done it.
And then came the postpartum depression.
Literally, I was overwhelmed by this sense that I could have done better. That I, and my race time, was a disappointment to friends and family. That I hadn’t worked hard enough initially, and that’s why I hadn’t pulled an Olympian time. I started to feel antsy. That I immediately needed to sign up for something else, to begin training, and to “redeem” myself in a sense.
I explained this to Yoga Kerri a few days later at work, and she, as well as a few others, explained that the race was about me, and not anyone else. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thought. My time was nothing to sniff at. I’d done it. I’d enjoyed the experience. And I wanted to do it again, and if I did it better (and one day qualified for Boston and then had a really sweet jacket to proudly wear about as people marveled about my beauty and strength), then so be it.
I don’t know who I was comparing myself to. But I have a lot to be proud of.
- I finished a marathon
- I ran the entire time, the way I wanted to
- I felt relatively good the entire time
- I created a training plan, and stuck to it
- I’d gladly do it again
So raise your glass (of low-cal Gatorade), and cheers to not comparing yourself to anyone else. Do you!