Last Tuesday, I set out to run 5 kilometers as fast as I could. Aside from pacing my child in a few local races, I haven’t run a competitive 5K in nearly eight years. This was an interesting experience in that my effort took place on a dirt path featuring a field of exactly one runner — myself.
On the one hand, my time of 20 minutes and 21 seconds represented something of a failure. The goal was to run 20 minutes even, not 20:21. I spend a lot of time training at a fairly high level to ensure those 20+ seconds head in the opposite direction when the watch beeps and the metaphorical bell rings.
On the other, this wasn’t a race on a closed asphalt course with other competitors and certified chip timing. It was a time trial on a dirt path with road crossings, morning rush hour traffic, meandering pedestrians, reckless cyclists, and two off-leash dogs.
Viewed through that lens, running 20:21 was freaking awesome. The affirmative message was reinforced by both my coach and a running buddy who understood exactly what I was trying to accomplish, as well as the underlying difficulties inherent in the attempt. (Cars, other humans, etc.)
What’s more, in the moment, it felt as though I gave an appropriate amount of effort to the task at hand. While I had to lay up a number of times for various inconveniences, I kept my foot on the proverbial gas throughout the run and even turned on a little closing kick at the end.
Taken as a whole, this 5K time trial was hardly a failure, In fact, it was a massive smashing success. What’s more, I now possess the blueprint to meet my goal of going sub-20 in an actual 5K this fall when (presumably) I won’t have to run in 90 percent humidity.
All of this self-reflection falls under the great big umbrella of perspective. Without it, most runners are beaten before they even begin. For paid subscribers, we offer more lessons on keeping an open mind amid a world of self-doubt. Please consider joining our community and keeping this newsletter (ahem) running with a paid subscription.