When my oldest was a newborn, I remember deciding that I was going to be the smart mom. The one who didn’t freak out and call the pediatrician at the first sign of spit-up. The one who was up-to-date on all the parenting literature and had decided, in advance, which experts actually knew what they were talking about.
I wanted, so badly, to parent intelligently and not “ask stupid questions” that I remember frantically scrubbing newborn vomit out of a carpet, agonizing over whether or not to call the pediatrician. If you don’t know whether or not you should call the pediatrician, CALL THE PEDIATRICIAN. They’ll know.
I almost let my desire to protect my “smart mom” identity keep me from getting expert medical advice the first time my newborn threw up. (I called the pediatrician’s office. They said every new mom calls the first time their kid pukes, and told me everything sounded fine.)
I had a similar experience with running the first time I did track repeats. I’d always identified as a happy, novice, slow runner. What were people going to think when I said I wanted to get faster? Would my blog readers feel like I was abandoning them? Did it seem judgmental to say that I was no longer satisfied running 10:45 pace for a 5k? I was the happy, easy going jogger, the one who was refreshingly novice compared to all the experienced and accomplished running bloggers out there.
It almost held me back from finding new goals for myself, and new ways to enjoy challenging myself with running.
Identity can be a powerful motivator. Just don’t let it hold you back. If your heart is fighting it, let yourself run faster, slower, shorter, longer, solo, with friends… or maybe while on the phone with your pediatrician.