Every race teaches you something new. The first one simply taught me that I could run 10K without stopping. Then I learned that be that as it may, even 5K can be hell if you’re not prepared.

Two months ago, I ran my first race after starting work with the trainer, and for the first time, ran 10K under an hour. Under 54 minutes, in fact. This went to my head. While I’d always been happy to simply be in the top half of my category, suddenly jumping to the top 20% gave me ideas. Maybe I could actually be a speed rather than endurance runner. Maybe I could even place top three in my category and earn a medal. I looked forward to the next race, which was Sunday.

A fantastic race it was, on a crisp morning and a beautiful course in Ste-Anne, through corn fields, rolling hills and forest. I’d hoped to achieve something near my previous time, and I beat it by almost half a minute. However, driving back I wondered why I wasn’t feeling the usual post-race mood boost. It was clearly because I’d spent the entire time (53′30″, thank you) worrying about my splits and per-kilometer times, when usually my mind just wanders and feels good about simply getting out there.

Now, this could simply end with “So I’ve learned a valuable lesson and what’s important is to participate blah blah blah”, but frankly, there’s something to be said for the drive to perform, rather than to just finish. I’ve enjoyed a huge surge in motivation and, frankly, some pride in the new achievement. How do you balance caring enough about performing that you get out and train, with not caring so much that it ruins the activity?