Yesterday I completed my first timed running event since I was in high school. I entered because a dear friend asked me to help her train for the race and she wanted my support. It was important to her that she finish and she did wonderfully. I’m extremely proud of her for sticking with it, even when the going got tough. After the event concluded I had a number of people congratulating me for running the race, and I’ll be honest, it felt weird. It’s hard to pin down why, but I guess it’s because I wasn’t in it for me. I was only there to support my friend. This was her accomplishment, not mine.

Let me say that by all accounts, yesterday’s race was extremely well run and everyone involved did a fantastic job. Yes, I know a number of the people who organized the event, but I’d feel the same way had it been put on by complete strangers. I run to stay healthy, and I’ll continue to do so, but participating in yesterday’s event confirmed my feeling that races aren’t my thing. I know that many people get motivated by the competition, camaraderie or various other aspects of being in an event like that, and that’s great, but I just don’t get anything out of it.

Thanks to everyone for all of the kind words about my participation in the race, but unless it’s to be there for someone I care about, I don’t see me entering any more in the foreseeable future.