As we approached the final stretch of our “long” Sunday morning run, I joked with LH that I could probably stop and walk the last half a klick because I’d hit my weekly goal.
In the end, for week two of consistent daily running, I clocked 42.9 klicks cumulatively... so... marathon?
Of course, the problem with having friends who run, and running friends who post on Strava, means that no matter what one accomplishes there is always someone who does us all one better. So while I was quietly celebrating a twelve klick morning jaunt (my longest in weeks, sadly) and crossing the Sunday virtual finish line of a week-long goal of a mere week-long marathon, SK for example, posted that she met her weekly goal of a hundred klicks, and then some. Or take AG, who moments later posted that (after running a meagre seven klicks with us on Thursday) had run all night (last night, finishing about the same time we were strolling in from our 12) and completed an 88 klick (yes, eighty-eight!) city-traversing epic run... through a thunderstorm.
Not that it matters. I logged seven days, met my personal goal, and sat down to have a hot coffee. I learned long ago that as soon as one starts comparing oneself to other runners... well, it doesn’t go over as well as some more motivated, after-school-special types would suggest. Usually I just feel like shit and forget that (as I’ve said a hundred times) for every person who is faster, there’s ninety-nine others who are sitting on the couch at home. I ran 42.9 klicks more than any of them this week.