Progress in Small Steps

A few weeks ago I ran another San Antonio Rock & Roll Half Marathon.  I kept a target time in the back of my mind as I trained this year, but I could tell at the start of the run that I probably wouldn’t make it.  The day started off warm and sunny – not PR conditions – and although I felt good, my steps weren’t springy.  I plodded through with a little kick at the end and finished about two minutes ahead of last year’s time, nine minutes slower than my best. 

Finishing a little better than last year was nice, but more important were the things I noticed about this year’s run and the training leading up to it.  I ran through the summer, which I didn’t do last year.  It wasn’t always fun, and I sometimes had to scramble to hit the early morning window of (relative) coolness, but it kept me from basically starting over in the fall.  I ran more frequently.  I did more long runs.  I increased the distance of my “standard” feel-good run.  And on race day I found that I wasn’t counting down the miles, eagerly looking forward to the finish line; the race actually seemed to fly by.  I would feel tired and then suddenly recover from that tiredness as I ran through it.  I didn’t tighten up like I have in the past, when my shoulders, back, hamstrings, and calves would threaten rebellion around mile 9.  The typical post-race aches were gone by the next morning.  I ran a 4-miler on Thanksgiving and felt great. 

I didn’t fall out of love with running.  I didn’t have the kind of race that makes you scream, “Never again!  This is crazy!” 

Progress isn’t always measured by concrete markers like time, speed, weight lifted or lost.  Sometimes the reward for consistent effort is simply a subtle signal from your body that things are at least (and at last) feeling a little easier.  The trick is being aware enough to catch those signals and recognize them for what they are – continuing confirmation of your commitment.  Encouragement to keep going.   

It’s enough.