This post really has nothing clever about it or a big payoff, I don’t have any wisdom and I’m not even going to open comments because I don’t want anyone to feel pressured to reply.   Consider this a half-price blog post written on a bored Tuesday evening.  The subject?  A stupid 1%.

Since I began running in 2007, I’ve covered 6050 miles of road and trail.  I have loved almost every moment and can’t remember ever cutting a run short because I didn’t want to finish.  In rain, snow, heat, I’ve been out there.   Because I love it.  Because it’s an addiction, this forward propulsion.  To leave everything behind while you slice the air from the inside out…that’s my heaven.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, otherwise known as the deep recesses of my brain, I consider how much angst I’ve given to races, to not measuring up, to dissatisfaction of those races and fear going into them.  Then I calculated how many miles I’ve raced.  282 miles.  Out of 6050.  That’s 4%.

Considering it wasn’t till this past year where things got weird, that number can be taken down even further…probably 1% have not been happy miles.  So it’s amazing to me, that with that tiny percentage, I’ve managed to build up so much negative energy about myself as a runner.  Loser, weak, chicken, poseur, jealous are only a few of the words that have sloshed like acid on the brain.  Not all the time, mind you, but far more than a stinkin’ 1% deserves.

So I have to stop and look at the big picture here.  Why do I give so much credit to this tiny portion of miles in an otherwise phenomenally beautiful pastime?  It doesn’t make sense.

I’ve been thinking about this over the last couple days and then today, I had one of those life-affirming runs that remind me what the whole point is.  The point is not racing.  Races are tests and I never did like taking tests, though I appreciate their place as a measure of accomplishment.  Really, the point is the running.

I am not a race time.  I am not a goal that I did or didn’t get, nor a prize that I won or lost.  Feet on pavement is as simple as it gets.  I’ve covered 5990 miles of pure happiness.  That’s what it’s all about.