I’m a very competitive person.
I was running this morning along the winding trail from our house, feeling the pre-sun chill in the air and making note of the people I saw on the path.
‘They have a better cadence than me,’ I thought. ‘But they’re taller. And look, they’re wearing a jumper — that must mean they’re not pushing as hard as I am…’
I was faster than some runners, and a lot slower than others. Every time I saw a faster runner, I wanted to prove myself; to pick up my pace to match theirs just so they’d know I was like them.
I found it hard not to compare myself to everyone I saw.
Some runners who seemed fast then had to stop and walk for a bit. Others started out slow and picked up the pace. Still more would turn around at various points, marking the halfway point of their run as I kept going.
It hit me that these people on the path with me were all on their own runs. I had no idea why or how far or how long they’d been training. And they knew nothing about my run, either.
I realised I couldn’t compare myself to them because I had no idea where they’d come from or what it had taken them to get here. And it didn’t matter.
You might be thinking “well, duh,“ but it got me thinking about how I can so easily compare myself and my journey to that of others’ (especially those I see online), not just in running, but in life.
Are they happier than me? More talented, more godly, more successful? Why haven’t I reached the same milestones they have?
This morning, I was reminded of how futile those questions are. That there’s no point comparing our behind-the-scenes training with someone else’s peak performance.
It’s better just to run our own race and cheer others on in theirs.
And as I ran, sweaty and puffed and knees a little wobbly, I smiled. I felt free.
“…And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith...” Hebrews 12:1-2