The Perils of Comparison

The temptation to compare ourselves to others - especially on social media - is a grand recipe for disappointment. Normally I would be proud that I ran three miles on the treadmill today in 21 minutes. Except that pales in comparison to another runner I follow on Instagram, who runs even faster and longer than I do while she is 22 weeks pregnant. I wasn't sure if I was impressed or secretly discouraged. I added her to my follow list early on since she seemed like an inspirational story: a fitness enthusiast, who still maintains a healthy lifestyle throughout her pregnancy. And she posts great sunset pics. But even without knowing her history - hopefully she is a world record holder Olympic gold medalist - I have to remind myself that the only one I'm really competing with is myself. Easier said.

Although my adult, mature self appreciates the idea of "we are all winners" and other inspirational sports platitudes, my inner teenager knows the whole concept of racing is based on trying to finish ahead of the other guy, or girl. But the older I get, the more I see there is a place for both ideas to come together. People still have their own goals - like trying to break 20 minutes - even if they don't finish first. In the first few road races I had ever run, I found it odd when runners who finished right behind me would say, "Thank you! I couldn't have done this without you." It took me a while to realize that after gutting it out and struggling to get ahead, we all, in some sadistic way, prodded each other to run faster than we ever could alone. We were all competitors, but were much better for it. I just didn't expect that one of the people to prod me along today would be entering her third trimester.