Done over Perfect

The ding of a finished mile on my running watch, has always been the mark of completion. The .00 at the end of my mileage, translated to satisfaction with my effort. It could not leave the miles half done, interrupted, or end at .96 - even if the workout was actually done. This silly regimented expectation, in my mind made me stronger and meant I could always give a little more...even if maybe I really couldn't, What I am learning is sometimes it's not about will power, but rather feeling empowered within the time you have.

I am currently 10 weeks post-partum, starting my return to run. I have a husband that's deployed and we've had a recent move to a new state - factor in the newborn and time for running has been deduced significantly. Running was a daily ritual, and now it feels like a luxury. This week my mileage was 12.13 miles total- having a few runs that finished at 2.31 miles, 2.22, 4.51 - I saw no zeros or 'completed' miles numerically this week. I completed what I could in the small pockets of time that I had. These uneven numbers, no longer bothered me. I realized this incomplete miles, never reflected a lack of will power or imperfect training runs. These runs were small pockets of time, that I used to their max capacity, despite exhaustion, distraction, or other commitments. I had the will power to use the 25 minutes I had to myself to run, even if it would amount to an incomplete or interrupted workout - something got done.

Last Sunday, I got that pocket of time. I used it to drive downtown and run outside of my neighborhood. Sunday mornings in a small southern town, often have no traffic, no open stores, and usually no people. I was close to rounding out 2 miles, running on an empty street. I was wondering how much longer I could go until a call from home needed me to return. 'Could I get to 3 miles? I should do at least 2.5.' My mind wanted those completed numbers, despite knowing my time was limited. While the mental debate was going on, I could also feel my post-partum body weakening from the distance already. Running along the empty road debating what I wanted to do, I noticed the "Stop Ahead" road sign in front of me. The sign spoke to me and was analyzed way to deeply, as a sign that holds such a straight forward message.

This post-partum return to run, I'm learning to start every run with a "Stop Ahead" mentality. My ability to run any amount of miles, is determined by the help I can get to watch my baby, the time she's asleep, or how long her toys or movement can distract her. Time is not my own and I must now understand that stopping isn't necessarily defeat, but rather a temporary limitation. Along with limited time, I'm working with the constraints of a healing body and one that is highly fatigued. What mileage I could do confidently a few months ago, is now in question daily and dependent on how much fuel and sleep I was able to get. Although once capable of endless effort, the ability to stop my body early means more space to heal and recover internally. I am learning that sometimes you can't always begin with the end in mind - sometimes you have to start and be willing to stop, even if it's not perfect.

One of my favorite athletes, Sally Mcrae, shared on a podcast once,

"Something is better than nothing. Done is better than perfect."

As I pondered on that street sign, its the same concept. We can spend our whole workout focused on the numbers, zeroing out the mileage, going a bit more just to show you have the will power to endure. But there are seasons where you must be okay with giving less time to the personal bests, and focus on the small wins that make you feel your best.

That Sunday I finished my run. I did 2.31 miles. I felt satisfied, refreshed, and a step closer to my old self. Even without going more to complete the mile, or even to push my limits more - I got it done, and felt good doing what I could. What you do doesn't always have to amount to your greatest effort, it doesn't even have to be recorded! Done with intention, joy, and connection to self - that is what matters.