Yesterday, I ran a 10k at my fastest time (or personal record for you running junkies). The ridiculous part is that I get embarrassed to actually tell people just how slow my fast is. I ran in 1 hour and 14 minutes which cut 10 minutes off my previous 10k time. It’s ridiculous to be embarrassed because I actually ran it. 2 years ago, I couldn’t run a half mile without losing my breathe. My personal record? Climb a set of stairs without taking a break.
Personal records aren’t so easy to come by in your every day. Through all the mundane, it’s easy to forget just how much you’ve accomplished; where you are now versus where you were just a few months ago. I wait for a big change — a promotion, a new job, or even an evolving relationship to identify growth. I struggle through every day without taking the time to recognize how significant a series of accomplishments can be. I keep trucking along as if nothing has changed and I haven’t evolved because it feels like a course of nature rather than something I’ve worked really hard for over days or months.
It’s even harder to remember that a personal record is just that – personal. It’s something I don’t need to benchmark against the girl who ran 20 marathons. It’s a benchmark to work toward for my own satisfaction, not competition.
“The man who thinks he can and the man who thinks he can’t are both right. Which one are you?”
― Henry Ford