The world is divided into runners and non-runners. And it seems like more and more people are on the running side. Everyone is doing a 5K, a half-marathon, a triathlon…except me. I am on the non-running side of the great divide. I have never been a runner and I am pretty sure I never will be. My disdain for running started back in Jr. High when I would get this crazy itch all over my body as we ran blocks in track. I still get that itch. I also maintain that some bodies are built to run and some bodies aren’t. Like I tell my husband, “You are moving limbs, honey; I am moving trunks.” And then my sister (far left) goes and throws my whole theory off by running the hardest leg of a mountain pass relay (and kicked butt!)
Now don’t misread this post. I am proud of my sister (Go Ang!). I admire runners. I respect them. My best friends from childhood run, my new adult friends run. Shoot, I even married a runner. But I have wasted the better part of my life disappointed in myself that I don’t run.
Until last week… when I walked into my yoga class and had a self-acceptance moment. I realized that I can still be a good person and not be a runner. And just like singing isn’t the only talent, running isn’t the only exercise. Sure, I’ll never win a beauty pageant talent show with my organizational skills, just like I will never win a race with yoga. But as my yoga instructor says, “Set your intention for your practice,” I know I am in the right place, doing the right exercise, for my body, at the right time.
I am no longer going to feel bad when someone posts their Nike mileage on Facebook or pictures of their latest 5K. I am still a good person. I can cheer for the runners in my life, be excited for them, and encourage them, but I no longer will beat myself up because I cannot do what they do. I do not have to be a runner to have worth.