So, I'm going through my Flipboard feeds and I read an article about Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg's new year's resolution. He's aiming to run a mile a day for the next year and is encouraging others to join.
So far, so good.
But then he wrote, "It's a mile a day, and at a moderate pace it's less than 10 minutes of running per day."
I'm sorry. What? "Less than 10 minutes?"
I confess my first reaction was "Screw you!" (I actually wanted to make that the blog post title.) While it's a response obviously triggered by my own struggles with my pace, it's not a completely unwarranted reaction.
More power to those who can run that fast, but for everyone else, you're just setting them up to fail.
Like a lot of people, I was unsure of myself when I started running. I used couch-to-5K apps*, read running books and blogs, and joined a running group. I was positive I must be missing something, because I'm so slow.
In the process, I meant encouraging people who just wanted to help me keep running no matter the pace. I read books and articles from respected runners and trainers and everyday joggers who said not everyone fits into the same mold.
I was in a very "I'm okay. You're okay" world. Whenever I find someone who ran my 15- to 16-minute-mile pace, it was like a little gift from heaven showing me I'm not alone.
Then Zuckerberg announces to the world running a mile should take less than 10 minutes, and I'm back to wondering what's wrong with me.
Fortunately, it's temporary. It's like that last burst of energy you use to cross the finish line of a long run, and as soon as you finish, you think, "I'm sorry. Where am I? Gosh, I'm hungry."
Because, you know what? I am hungry, and I'm going to get some food now.
By the way, Zuckerberg, I've completed and surpassed your challenge for at least the last two years (and I wasn't even trying).
*And as I've mentioned before, those Couch-to-5K programs should really be called Couch-to-Running for 30 minutes. Because running a 5K and running 30 minutes aren't necessarily the same thing.
Former high school water girl (really) finally running.