songs of experience

I’ve been thinking a lot about “PRs” and “personal best” recently.  I have had Olympic fever, characterized by dark circles under the eyes from watching these amazing athletes compete against each other, and themselves.   I even like the human interest stories, don’t mind the jingoistic press coverage and cry when the national anthem is played at medal ceremonies.  (Joan, I can’t wait to pick your brain about your experience!)

But I’ve also been thinking about the concept of personal best since my family did an “intervention” to convince me not to run a marathon.  They reminded me of all the injuries I have suffered and all the painful, boring physical therapy necessary just to get out of pain, not to mention to be able to run again.  I know they are right.  I appreciate their concern, and I actually felt a great sense of calm once I decided to do the half-marathon instead.  So, why am I still being self-critical?

I always encourage my children to do “their best” and not to compare themselves to others.  Easier said than done!  I wish I didn’t have tight hips and weak hamstrings (and fat thighs and thin hair…)  But I do.  And it’s what we do with what God gave us that matters.  My personal best is nothing more or less than mine.  I can’t run as fast or as far as others, but I can do my best at workouts and on long runs. I can enjoy circle time and laugh and cry and grow with my friends.  And I can’t think of anything better than that!