Should I Attempt to Change My Personality?

Looking at others' blogs, especially those of people I know, is one of my favorite things.

Even if you ran all or most of those runs with them, the perspective gained in reading how they experienced the run is one of an overlapping reality: a possible world near to the actual (your own) but not the actual, itself.

(For those who did not get the joke, you clearly chose well and didn't specialize in philosophy. For those who did get the joke, I gave you a joke to console you in your career choice!)

Reading tobadwater and hillsaremyfriends, especially scrolling through the posts and looking at their respective years in hindsite, impressed me.

"Wow. Perhaps because of the struggles, these two have had pretty incredible years. Life-wise and running-wise."

5k personal bests. Mile personal bests. Marathon exultations.

Even more importantly, the mental toughness to persevere through those nightmare races.

Which made me think of others. The Vivacious Redhead in Phoenix, when she twisted her ankle and started walking in the second half of the race?

Who starts running again after that? I would have sent myself to medical and gotten a cushy ride over to the finish.

But she did.

Or Ivy League, with a complete carbohydrate bonk during the second half of the NYC marathon, who finished anyway.

Who also, I noticed, placed first for PPTC runners in quite a few races this year.

(I've been procrastinating and looking at race results instead of doing the research I need to do. Drat this job that requires me to be self-motivated!)

Or Story Finder, who started running only a bit over a year ago, who runs two to three days a week, and who can beat me on a Central Park loop.

And I'm not THAT slow.

Enough sappiness. I can't change my personality THAT much!

"Why not look at your own stats?" I thought.

I didn't look at all of them. I conveniently forgot about those bad races, those asthma attacks from lack of speedwork and the resulting weak lungs, those horrific runs where I was the slowest person, having to imagine a rope around someone's waist to drag me, just to claw my way near the rest.

I looked at the stats that I put up on the side of my blog.

Now, I hadn't raced-really raced-all of those distances before.

So not all are great acheivements - the JFK run was my 3rd 5K ever. The first was a bit over 25 minutes, the second was 20 something (was it aided or harmed by the major party the night before?)

But, in the stats, I see: 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010

I'm proud of that.

Plus, I'm great at forgetting the bad stuff! That's why I don't re-read my own blog.

Maybe this is the peak, the golden moment that I'll wish for in my later years, like the old high-school football players past their prime, bellies straining at their vanity-sized pants.

Eek! Too close to home right now! Especially since I'm not supposed to actually train.

I am now filled with anxious nervousness and a sense of panic.

I can't change my personality THAT much, after all!

I think I need a run.