In high school, I was pretty average. I was never a natural athlete. But I was surrounded by athletes like my friend Darien. I wanted to run down a soccer field and look svelte doing it like her. Instead I wore spandex on the volleyball court and did my best sausage-casing impression.
I was never a well rounded artist like my friends Liz and Kristen who were the epitome of triple threats. We called ourselves the Three Amigos. They were these tall, thin bombshells who could paint, dance, sing, you name it. I could sing and act… most of the time. But I wanted their gifts. From the age of 5, I was the Martin Short of the Three Amigos… and I let it steal my joy.
So I’ve started running more seriously the past few years of my life. I am not fast. I’m not long and lean. But I can run for a long time. If you remember, I ran a half marathon with my Energizer Bunny cousin on Valentine’s weekend. Well 2 weeks after that, I ran another half marathon with my father. Crazy? Yes. Fun? Yes. I took my time on the 2nd one and knew that my time would be slower than the first race. Well for some reason, as I was looking around at all of these gorgeous and fast runners speeding by me, my joy was threatened. But I remembered that saying, “Comparison is the thief of joy”. I was crossing the finish line for the second time in two weeks, felt strong, and refused to allow my joy to be stolen.
