Enough already!

I just heard on the news that a 100 year old man just finished a marathon.  Fauja Singh, born in India, and currently a British citizen, finished the 26.2 miles in Toronto.  His time was 8 hours, 11 minutes, beating his previous time.  (He was shooting for 9 hours.)  He didn't start running marathons until he was 89.

(http://www.nydailynews.com/blogs/running_dialogue/2011/10/100-year-old-fauja-singh-sets-world-record-oldest-runner-to-complete-a-mara)

Are you feeling amazed and ashamed of your own paltry attempts at greatness?  Does it make you rethink your reasons for vegging on the couch?

Then there's this:  Gladys Burrill, of Prospect, Oregon, recently finished a marathon in just under 10 hours.  She's 92, and she ran her first marathon at age 86.

(http://www.nydailynews.com/blogs/running_dialogue/2011/10/100-year-old-fauja-singh-sets-world-record-oldest-runner-to-complete-a-mara)

Not finished yet.

Get a load of this:  Amber Miller from Chicago, finished her hometown marathon and then promptly went into labor and delivered a healthy baby girl.  Amber's pregnancy was 39 weeks along AND it was her second marathon within the past few months.   

(http://www.nydailynews.com/blogs/running_dialogue/2011/10/100-year-old-fauja-singh-sets-world-record-oldest-runner-to-complete-a-mara)

Inspired?  Or annoyed?  For me ... a little of both.

I mean, who do these people think they are??  Why must they do things that mess with my psyche, making me think I've got NO EXCUSES!   My own meager little marathon is fading fast, evidenced by my nearly re-grown toenails.  I can't milk the glory from it forever, and THAT sad fact isn't setting well with me.  THE PLAN was to earn the title and wear it proudly for years.

Not, mind you, that I don't stand in utter and complete AWE of champions like Fauja, Gladys, and Amber.  I KNOW how long 26.2 miles is, and I cannot fathom traveling it by foot in an aged or advanced pre-natal condition.  You must be half crazy to do it even at the height of youth and physical toughness, much less attempt it with any sort of limitation.

So I stand here, in all my mediocre-ness, facing that bar which has been raised so high.  Not wanting to try another marathon ... heck, I'm only in my 50s ... there's no glory in it for another 30 or 40 years!  And a pregnant run is no longer an option, thank goodness.  I have to continue to remind myself that mediocre is JUST FINE.  My only competition is ME.  And ME is willing to call it a draw.