I’m not built like a runner.
I don’t have a small frame with long, lean legs.
I don’t look effortless, gliding along like a gazelle.
I don’t possess that innate, natural running ability.
I just don’t. And that’s OK.
I have stocky, strong soccer-player legs. Thick thighs and giant calves that nary a skinny jean will fit over.
My stride is prettier than it once was but it hasn’t reached gazelle-level beauty — and it never will.
And that’s OK, too.
I’ve come to realize that I can work just as hard and log just as many miles as a naturally gifted runner and I’ll probably still never be faster than them. And while it frustrates the heck out of me, it’s OK.
Besides, put me side-to-side with one of those gazelles and odds are that I can throw a softball or kick a soccer ball far better than they ever could.
I understand my strengths; I know what I am and what I am not.
I’m a runner, not by nature but by trade. I’m a hard worker, a talented athlete and an intelligent person. I’m strong and strong-willed.
I’m not built like a runner. And that’s OK. — Mags