Last Saturday, my partner and I participated in the 5km Parkrun nearby. We’re all dandy, in other words, untrained. This is the first time we both are able to free ourselves from the shackles of the comfort from our beds on a Saturday morning.
The goal was to finish the run in one piece. We started off on a nice pace, dangling at around 400th place out of 600+ runners. Unlike the last time I joined, there is no muddy piles from rain. Little bits of tailwind accompanied the sunlight to give us an extra boost.
This extra boost came back to haunt us in unexpected ways. We were too used to running on treadmills, and we could not adapt to the natural landscapes. The tailwind must have also pushed us beyond our typical pace. My partner went slightly over her limit as her knees started to complain as we crossed the half-way point. We had to slow down.
As we squirm forward at the speed of rush-hour traffic in London, I started to feel the urge to just dash off and catch up with my pace. I reckon we must be at the tail of the crowd! My inner competitiveness wants to take over, it’s such a nice opportunity to set a personal best! My partner adds fuel to the fire and encourages me to go, “just wait for me at the finish line!”. Indeed, why shouldn’t I think less and run?
As I fall into the conundrum, I see how the situation somehow resembles my PhD journey. What is it that I value in this process? Was it to finish it as fast as I could in record breaking time? Or was it to take my time in learning, doing slow but meaningful science? It’s never either or, but setting a goal and stick with it would help me prioritise what’s truly important to me. At this point, it is to cherish my status as a student, to dive into theoretical puzzles, challenge myself with new skills, connect with people I dare not speaking to, and spend time with the ones I love.
We crossed the finish line together.
JosePhD 