Thanksgiving and race weekend
The second Sunday of October is what most Canadians equate to Thanksgiving and what most long distance runners equate to Chicago Marathon weekend. It’s actually also race weekend in tons of different cities because fall races - which are bookended by the Berlin and NYC marathons - are honestly just the best to run, especially after you’ve trained over a long humid summer.
The last few years, I’ve gotten to equate this weekend to both - it’s the week I come back to the PNW and soak up fall on Vancouver Island. I get a little extra family time because of the days off with the holiday, and as a bonus give myself the little gift of running a race.
This year I feel exceptionally proud of myself for talking myself out of running the half I’d signed up for - giving myself permission to “bail” on it - for one very key reason - I didn’t feel like it. This started a few weeks ago for many different reasons (I just ran a half last month, the logistics/mental load of childcare/sleeping arrangements/coordination, achy body) and instead of carrying any guilt or burden, I just decided not to. I downgraded to the 8km the day before, ran it a pretty good peppy pace with a big smile on my face, and was back home an hour later with the energy to chase Sebi around for the rest of the day.
The lesson in it all (that I observed from Sebi and am taking on for myself) is to do what makes YOU proud and shine. It sounds simple, but making ourselves proud and bright really means not complicating ourselves with ego, expectation, and pressure (y’all know this is more than about running yeah)?
I am lucky that I have enjoyed most of the races I’ve done, and that I’ve simply taken the time away from running altogether when the passion and joy was lost. But it has also taken me way too long to really take this lesson and run with it (pun very much intended) fully. What I saw in Sebi’s eyes after he crossed his own little finish line this weekend, wearing his medal like a sash for the rest of the day was me witnessing his teaching first hand. And that is something I’m thankful for.