970x125
I ran my first half marathon when I was twenty-seven. My pace was a little over twelve minutes per mile, and I was among the last finishers, but I didn’t care. I finished 13.1 miles on foot! I felt like a rock star. Thirty years (and many, many races of varying lengths) later, this last May I ran a half marathon I participate in every year. My finishing time was 1:38. My pace? 12:06/mile. I haven’t gotten any faster. But you know what? I haven’t gotten any slower either.
I like to joke that if I keep this up, maybe when I’m 80, I’ll qualify for the Boston Marathon (BTW, the qualifying time for people 80 and over is 5 hours and 20 minutes—so it’s a real possibility). Slow, steady, and stubborn—that’s me.
Here’s the thing: life, like marathons, isn’t always about speeding up, getting better, or winning. It’s about showing up, staying present, and enjoying the ride—even if you’re at the back of the pack chatting away with the other slow people, enjoying the scenery.
Improvement is celebrated in our culture. We want more—faster, richer, smarter. And don’t get me wrong; I’m a big fan of excellence in lots of areas of my life. But I also believe it’s okay just to love a thing that you’re not really that good at.
I love running. And I love dancing. And I’m not particularly brilliant at either of those activities. But if I can keep them up and continue to enjoy them injury-free, I’m going to count that as a win.
So many things in life—creative pursuits, hobbies, self-care routines—all benefit from consistency whether or not we get “better” at them (however we measure “better”). But sadly, I’ve met people who’ve given up on things they really love because they didn’t achieve excellence. I have a client in my coaching practice right now who gave up a job he loved because it was “below” his educational level and his vision of what a professional of his stature should be doing. This broke my heart. He’s not happy in the new job—which has a fancy title, but a boring job description.
Is there something you feel pressure to improve upon even though you’re happy with it the way it is? If so, here’s my reminder from the back of the pack: You don’t have to get better for that thing you love to matter to you and for it to be worth your time and commitment. You just have to keep going. Keep showing up. Keep enjoying the journey. Because joy—whether it arrives slowly or quickly—is what counts. And sometimes, the back of the pack is exactly where you want to be because there’s time to take in the moment back there.
