Enjoying Where I Am
I am so surprised by how much better I feel after my marathon this year, which was only a month ago, compared to how I felt after the previous two marathons I ran. I reckon I’ve recovered well and am back to running strongly.
Mentally, I also feel far less lost than before. I thought that because I hadn’t already entered next year’s edition of the Cape Town Marathon, I would feel aimless, but I don’t. Instead, I feel like there’s much less pressure on me. I haven’t set any new goals for next year yet either, and that’s also not bothering me.
I am in a good place, and I didn’t expect it to be like this.
Perhaps, in all these years of running, I’ve been putting too much pressure on myself. I dragged that goal of a sub-6 finish into every marathon I ran, and now that it’s out of the way, I can finally breathe. I always thought of this goal as a positive driving force, but not achieving it twice probably affected me more than I realised—it made me feel like I needed to regroup and refocus on it immediately again, no matter what.
I set that sub-6 goal before heading into my first marathon. It wasn’t a ‘must-achieve’ goal then, but rather an ‘it would be nice’ goal. I thought it would be easily achievable—humble, even—something I could comfortably reach. However, while I was ecstatic to finish that first marathon, it did bother me that I didn’t achieve the sub-6 time.
I run with many great runners for whom even a sub-6 marathon would be a snail’s pace. It’s not that I want to compare myself to them—I can’t, anyway. A part of me just wants to belong. And a sub-6 finish felt like it carried more legitimacy, weight and belonging than finishing in six and a half hours.
In a way, I am hesitant to set another goal. I have an idea of running a half marathon in two and a half hours, but I’m not up to chasing that goal yet. And perhaps that’s okay. Do we always need to be chasing the next big goal? Isn’t it sometimes enough to enjoy where we are?
While the absence of a defined goal feels liberating now, I can imagine that, over time, it might also start to feel unsettling—like there’s no purpose to my running and no sense of direction. But surely, when I reach that point, I can decide on a goal then? Or choose to focus on a specific race?
Could this be an opportunity to redefine my relationship with running? Instead of always chasing goals, perhaps I could focus on the process, the community, or simply the joy it brings me.
Do you think it’s always important to chase something?