The Number I Can’t Outrun

It was February 19, 2011. I had been running for 4 years and seen progress over that time. When race day came in McKinney, Texas, I was ready and so was the weather. It was a slight mist which made the temps feel great. I went for it and hit a half-marathon PR time of 1:36:29.

Fifteen years later, I am celebrating my time at Beat The Blerch, which was just under 2 hours. On a spreadsheet, the 2011 time is faster. On Athlinks, 1:36:29 is faster.

Those are easy places to see that I was faster. I’m just not interested in measuring myself that way anymore.

I Earned That Version of Me

Back then, my life was different. My life looked a hell of a lot different than it does today, and so did my mindset. I was new to the sport of running, having started in 2007, and the PR chase was always there.

I focused on getting faster. There were hill repeats, interval work (never on a track…I hate the track), plus the long and steady miles. I was really fit and I earned that 1:36. It will always be a part of my running story.

Unfortunately, That Asshole Never Ages

This year, we went on the Everyday Athlete Run Club Tour. We had two half-marathons on the schedule. Crossing the finish lines of both of those half-marathons at 52 was awesome but the 2011 version of Jason? He was 37, hasn’t aged since, and doesn’t even need to fucking train anymore to keep that 1:36:29.

Such an asshole. Great time. No training.

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Why Sub-2 Mattered 

The Run Club Tour also had three marathons on it. At Oakland, my goal was simply to finish my first marathon in 14 years. At Pittsburgh, I noticed I was around two hours at halfway. Then, in San Francisco, I crossed the half-marathon timing mat just under two hours. That one surprised me because the San Francisco Marathon is NOT EASY.

Somewhere along the way, sub-2 had quietly become possible again.

Now, I am at the starting line of Beat The Blerch. Breaking two hours wasn’t the thing. The big thing was running with Santino and talking to as many people as possible while having the most fun. That kind of changed when we hit the turnaround mark.

The time on my watch said: 1:00:32. I remember it vividly. I also know that we run ‘uphill’ on the way out which meant that we would be running ‘downhill’ on the way back. I thought, I have a chance to do this. That quickly became: let’s do this.

Running a sub-2 hour half-marathon became the thing to pursue. What was cool is that this was a mid-race goal. Not something I was focused on. I had a blast during training, was enjoying the race and now I could step on the gas. Isn’t this what racing is all about? Doing hard things and having fun while doing them?

The Clock Isn’t Context

1:36:29 will always be faster than 1:59:23. There’s no need for some motivational gymnastics claiming otherwise. But faster and more meaningful aren’t synonyms. The stopwatch measures elapsed time extremely well. It absolutely sucks at measuring context.

Life in 2011 was different. Life in 2037 will be different. One version of me isn’t better than the other. They’re just different, and I can celebrate both without being pissed off that one of them ran faster.

Stop Racing Your Ghost

The 37-year-old version of me ran 1:36:29. Good for that asshole. He earned it.

The 52-year-old version ran 1:59:23 and had a blast discovering halfway through the race that he still had another gear.

Both happened. Both count.

I don’t need today’s version of me to beat yesterday’s version to prove I’m still an athlete. I just want to find out what this version can do.

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