Yesterday there were fast people at the track at the start of my workout so I decided to come back to it after 4 miles and promised myself that I'd do my "fast" miles there if the fast people had gone. Only two of my seven miles had to be "fast". When I returned to the track, there was a different set of fast people running, but I decided to suck it up and do my miles anyway. Guess what! I didn't get laughed at, didn't get yelled at, didn't get made fun of (as far as I know), and I did my "speedwork" on the track. I didn't feel like a jogger. The fast people didn't even care that I was there. In fact, upon closer evaluation, they weren't even that fast.
I have created a black and white world for myself where everyone is either awesome or shitty. You're either a saint or a douchebag. No one except for myself is gray. Gray is my favorite color because it is noncommittal. I often find myself running along the margins of black and white pages, looking for a good spot to jump in. Somewhere I might fit in. I'm considering turning everyone else to gray so I don't have to be the outcast anymore. Looking around, there are plenty of middle-of-the-packers.
I don't want to be embarrassed about going to the stupid track. I just want to go there, run my miles and leave knowing I've done something to make myself faster. The track is the thing I've always avoided and I still haven't reached my goal of qualifying for Boston. Maybe that's why. Maybe if I face the track once a week during my training, I will earn myself a place. I am not a jogger. But if I don't do speedwork on the track, then I'm not a runner either.