At your level

“Not in your league.”
“Not up there with you.”
“About an hour back in the pack.”
“Not nearly at your level.”

“There it is again.”
I think to myself, another caveat, diminishment, or reduction. I’m always knocked back. Never quite accustomed. As messages pour into my inbox from runners around the world I’m consistently startled when the writer chooses to condition their perspective.

“Which level do they mean?” I often wonder.
Yes, I understand that having run a 2:19 marathon places me in an assumed tier of ability and understanding. But inside of my running soul, the brightest glimmers of my favorite PRs sit amongst a jumbled pile of athletic memories, many decidedly less shiny.

The years of passion, frustration, and injury endured through collegiate athletics.
The moments of hope and awe standing as witness to records broken at Hayward Field.
The years spent jogging barely a dozen miles a week with flagging motivation.
Or the beautiful miles covered at every speed, in all sorts of directions on paths around the world.

No number can truly portray a runner’s spirit.
I’ve known veterans who could weave lessons and memories like a fine fabric…