People follow predictable patterns, and I'm among them. When I walk with Norah in the morning, we always walk at about the same time, so we usually see the same other people who are out and about for their own walks or runs. And, almost every morning, we see the same woman running, and she could be on the cover of RW -- she just so perfectly "looks" like a runner: tall, lean, leggy, and always outfitted in co-ordinated tops and shorts.
Even when I'm on top of my running, I see this woman and feel a bit of hate in my heart (I am NONE of the above), but currently, when I see her, I feel a LOT of hate in my heart. Not at her specifically, she seems very nice and we always exchange a brief greeting and a smile, but more at what she represents.
For the most part, I really try to never compare myself to other runners (which is tough work as a running blogger -- many of you guys are easy to be envious of): It's not productive to compare myself to what others are able to achieve; it's best to just work my hardest, get what I want from running, and be happy with who I am as a runner. I know this. Still, sometimes I can't help but to compare, and that's one thing when I am running. But, when this fit, trim runner is effortlessly gliding past me everyday as I labor to push a 25 lbs kid in a 22 lbs stroller, along with lugging my own 23 extra pounds of self, and I'm WALKING...well, it kinda makes me feel like crud.
It's as though her physically passing me says, "Don't you wish you could run right now? And with so little effort?! Look at me! I'm just a light, little bouncy doe!"
I know this time on the bench is temporary, and I'll be back at in no time (probably pushing TWO kids in a stroller, but let's not dwell there on the extra effort THAT's gonna require), but it's still hard to be sidelined. I'll go ahead and admit it: Sometimes I'd like to trip Ms. Runner McRunnerson, and sometimes I'd like to throw virtual spitballs at all of you who are running races every other weekend, and earning yourselves new PRs and AG awards.
The urge to act out in such negative ways is, of course, tempered by the fact that I know these feelings are a bad by-product of hormones, a lack of running, and a tiny teaspoon of jealousy; I don't really want to trip anyone -- literally or virtually. Still, I'd take some degree of pleasure if that woman just tripped and fell on her own; and I wouldn't mind it if a few of you over-achievers scaled back your efforts some. You could trip and fall too.
I'd appreciate it, thanks.