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What I learned about setting fitness goals after running my first 5K
I was never a runner and I never wanted to be a runner. Every memory I've ever had involving running (and there aren't many) has been negative or, at best, forgotten. I remember in middle school, after a softball game, someone told me that he thought I was going to fall on my butt rounding second base because I leaned so far back while running. I joined the soccer team in high school because my friends did, but on the first day of summer conditioning we had to run laps and when almost everyone...
What I learned about setting fitness goals after running my first 5K
I was never a runner and I never wanted to be a runner. Every memory I've ever had involving running (and there aren't many) has been negative or, at best, forgotten.
I remember in middle school, after a softball game, someone told me that he thought I was going to fall on my butt rounding second base because I leaned so far back while running. I joined the soccer team in high school because my friends did, but on the first day of summer conditioning we had to run laps, and when almost everyone lapped me, I knew this was going to be a tough season. I gave up after a year - it turned out I wasn't that good at the other skills you need to play football either.
In college, I tried running again - and immediately felt uncomfortable with the movements, got side cramps, and couldn't hear anything except my breathing. I tried to make it to this tree and then that tree, and somehow each step felt less fun than the one before it. I thought about my best friend (who, by the way, has run a marathon on a treadmill) who runs for fun. FOR FUN?! I just didn't understand it.
Don't get me wrong, I love working out. I was a dancer and played softball growing up (let alone running!), a cheerleading captain throughout high school, and today I'm a certified personal trainer who regularly attends spin studios, HIIT gyms, and cardio barre classes. What if I'm not a marathon runner? I like to focus on what I'm good at.
But this year, when a few non-runner friends recently started lacing up, I kept thinking, if they can do it, what's really holding me back? So I started running in July (looking back, I'm not sure why I chose the hottest month of the year) both on the treadmill and outside.
I chronicled my journey where any millennial would – on social media – and immediately found a sense of community and support. After I admitted to struggling through a bad morning run, a runner friend wrote to me: "We all have those days! And another cheered me on with words of encouragement after a particularly muggy run: 'Great to beat the weather and get out and run today!' Best of all, after completing my first 3-mile indoor run, I posted about my success in Shape's private Facebook group #MyPersonalBest Goal Crushers. It was intimidating to put myself out there. I kept thinking, “I’m happy about this accomplishment, but maybe it’s not that big of a deal.” But I was pleasantly surprised to receive such warm and encouraging feedback from women I had never met before. "Great time! You should pat yourself on the back," said one. "Four weeks to 5K is PHENOMENAL. You are amazing!" wrote another. They were right - everyone has to start somewhere, and the whole point of this challenge was for me to prove TO MYSELF that I could do it, and damn it, I did.
All of this reinvigorated my commitment and helped me feel confident enough to sign up for my first 5K at the end of September. I stuck to my regular running schedule of three or four times a week - some solo weekend runs, buddy runs (my favorite!) and treadmill runs. For a while, I felt like I would never get past that wall I would hit in the middle of my outdoor runs. I was going at a pretty fast pace (so my “real” runner friends said), but I ended up stopping short of my goal distance or time and wondering if I would be able to make it through the 5K without HATING every minute. I've seen women doing 7-mile recovery runs on Instagram (RECOVERY RUN?!), or I've seen friends I rarely know lace up and comfortably run 5 miles like it's nothing. I couldn't help but compare myself - my stats, my form, my fitness. (Related: What Happened When Shape Editors Swapped Workouts for a Month)
This sport is all about numbers – race pace, split times, tempo runs, fastest mile, whatever – which makes it easy to compare yourself to others. While tracking these numbers is helpful for training purposes, and it was certainly good insight for a beginner like me to quantify where I started (and where I hope to go), it also makes it incredibly easy to share stats with your friends and potentially pick up on yourself when you're "lagging behind."
Then I remembered what Personal Best really means. It doesn't have to be a personal record, or any record for that matter. It's about being able to say I did my best. I tried my best. I did it – period. Because here’s the thing. I didn't set out with the goal of being the best or even better than the girl next to me. I started with a modest goal: just to run.
That's what I did when I woke up bright and early on a Sunday morning in September for my first ever 5K run. I ran, and ran faster than I expected (it's true what they say about the race day atmosphere pushing you forward). On a beautiful fall day, I rounded the tip of Roosevelt Island and crossed the finish line in just over 28 minutes, and I was so proud. Not because I broke a real record - but because I broke my record. And you know what? I actually had fun.