The Year of Not Running Farther

For the last eight years I have considered myself a runner. The goal has been to run farther than I did the previous year.

Because of my African heritage, people assume that I can run like a Kenyan. This is far from reality. I started running seriously in 2017, when I moved to the seaside town.

Running was part of a bigger goal. When I wrote my quarter-life list of 25 things to do in the next 25 years, one of them was to hike Mt Kilimanjaro. I realised I needed a level of fitness to do it, so running became part of the plan.

Runner Identity

Running began as a means to an end. Somewhere along the way, it became part of who I am and how I build physical wealth.

Do I still want to hike up Mt Kilimanjaro? Maybe. In 2016, I hiked in Chile up to 5,600 m, only 295 m short of the summit. In a way, that hike was my Kilimanjaro. Will I still strive to summit the highest peak in Africa? If I do go for it, this decade of my life is the ultimate time.

Loss of Identity

This year as part of my recovery, I decided to take a break from running and listen to my body, which has been preferring to walk instead. I hadn’t anticipated how much of a sense of loss I would feel.

Some of my patients who know me well ask how the running is going. I give a short explanation: I am taking a break and walking instead. My running friends ask whether I will be doing this race or that one. Not this year, I say.

Volunteering at my local parkrun is keeping me connected to running. I know that in time I will be back. It isn’t a year of no running entirely. I have run about 70 km this year so far and walked about 700 km.

Silence the Inner Critic

I have had to silence the inner critic. You are African, and you never ran like a Kenyan. Look at your marathon time. It is strange to grieve something I was never fast or good at. But comparison is the thief of joy, and I did not run to be fast.

I ran to go farther than the previous year. I ran without music, just my thoughts. I ran for the joy of putting one foot in front of the other and challenging myself.

Letting Go

Do I need to track my walks the way I tracked my runs? I am conflicted. Tracking keeps me accountable. But not everything has to be counted. Some days I have gone out for a walk and just walked, and it felt like a slower, unhurried kind of freedom. I am learning that I do not have to always keep count.

Recently, I have come across runners who tell me they run by feel. Some put tape on their running watches so they can’t see their pace. Others don’t bother with running watches. They just run for the pure joy of it. I love the liberation of running, pushing myself, and listening to my body.

Jill of All Trades

An article caught my attention this month. It was about how to know when it is time to retire from being a doctor in Australia. One point particularly resonated with me: for some doctors, retirement triggers a profound identity crisis, because professional identity, purpose, and meaning disappear. The doctors who cope better are those who have cultivated “multiple identities”.

That applies to all of us. Which identities are we fostering as we go?

I am a wife, daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, and friend. I am also a runner, surfer, scuba diver, doctor, volunteer, reader, blogger, writer, guitarist, Spanish language learner, singer, and dancer.

I tell people that I am a Jill of all trades, master of none. As a general practitioner, it is close to a job description. I am not a great guitarist. I speak Spanish badly. I suck at surfing, but I stay true to the notion that the best surfer is the one who is having the most fun. Being mediocre is where the fun and play are.

A version of the common saying goes: “A Jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.” If I am a Jill of all trades, I can lean into my other identities when needed. One identity does not define me fully.

A Richer Life

In financial independence, retire early (FIRE) movement, portfolio diversification is a key tenet. I would like to think this holds true for how I approach life and identity. I have been thinking about how identity shifts in retirement, and I suspect that is a post for another day. A diversified identity, like a diversified portfolio, will make for a richer and fuller life.

When I look at my core values, I am adventurous, connected, creative, generous, and free. This is how I want to show up as I go through my days.

I won’t run farther this year, and that is okay. I will keep moving my body in different ways. I am still a runner. In time, I will be back chasing the runner’s high.