This morning I went on a run organized by a local running club. Yesterday I sent the organizer guy an e-mail telling him that after looking over the details, I was not going to participate - since the slowest group was going to be running at my fastest pace, and I didn't want to get discouraged. He assured me that I would be fine, not to worry, they would be slow, and to come out... so I did.
At the two mile point, I was running alone. All alone. Crying. Pitifully crying. Watching everyone leave me was so disheartening - I can't begin to tell you. I could tell you the childhood issues this triggers, but then I would sound like a slow nutcase. Not just a slow old woman. A slow nutcase old woman. Okay, I will tell you anyway - I am the youngest of five - all my childhood, I watched them all be able to do things I couldn't... run faster, go places, etc. and leave me behind. And so it happens again...
I decided not to extend my misery by running the 6 miles I intended... so I turned around at 2 miles. A lovely woman who had introduced herself at the beginning of the run turned around and ran back to the water stop to see how I was doing. When I told her (sobbing like a small child) she said she would go back with me. She ran with me at the slow 11:55 pace I was running this morning, and we talked and ran together. Thank God for angels like Lana. What an act of unselfishness. Thank you to Lana and all the other angels who are so kind.
I did get to talk with a couple of middle-aged female marathoners after the run. They were very encouraging. After I left I considered the fact that I had joined with people who are in a running club. They are probably fast runners. I am slow, I know I am slow. I just need to get over it.
It is 2 weeks until the race. I just have to get my attitude back.