How slowing down made me a more confident runner
By Megan Prenty
My name is Megan, and I have never identified as athletic, but I am passionate about my identity as a slow runner.
Just over a decade ago, I had a life-altering breakup. As a result, I left Vancouver and found myself living in Wellesley, Ontario, with a very empty bank account. While I nursed a broken heart and braved starting over in a new place, my love of running began to grow. By then I'd been running on and off for a few years, but runs had always been seen as a way to try (and fail) at losing weight. I would often be frustrated with being slow, sore, and struggling.
Slowly runs became a way to slow my mind, feel my breath, and connect back into my body. All of these tasks were often challenging due to an incredibly high resting state of anxiety. Running gave me something to do, a place for my anxiety to go. I spent many sunsets exploring country roads with nothing but my headphones and sneakers and myself, which coincidentally was all I could afford. Running became a self-regulation tool; it didn't look pretty, and I wasn’t fast, but it started to feel good.
I was always slow, sweaty, and oh so red in the face. This hasn't changed, but it no longer pains me the way it used to. The idea of running around others made my chest tighten, so in 2014 I decided I would conquer that fear by running in a charity race, and registered for a 4km colour fun run.
May 2014 phone selfie at baby’s first race
I, like many others, had always assumed running a race was only for serious athletes. The colour run was a charity event where as you run people throw colour bombs at you. It was silly and joyful. Things I wanted to feel when running. And not so coincidentally it was a blast. This run taught me you did not have to be a semi-pro to run. There was a wide variety of ages and stages of runners including many red-faced and slow runners like me. Life got in the way but completing this race gave me the courage to register in 2016 for my first competitive 5km.
Registering for a “real” race gave me the focus to keep myself accountable and get out for training runs regularly. Like many casual runners I was fueled in part by a fear of embarrassment on race day, I wondered if I even belonged at a race. Would I just recreate that embarrassment of being last in gym class in my adult life? What if I came last? Would people be judging my form, my two-year-old sneakers, and my tomato-red face? What if my best wasn't good enough? I've never been a competitor, so I wasn't enticed by the idea of rankings it added to the intimidation. All that unknown and fear gave me focus, a reason to show up and prove to myself that I can do hard things.
Baby’s first “real” race the 2016 waterloo classic start line- im on the far right
I attended my first “real” race in 2016; I was an hour early and too afraid to talk to anyone. I had a panic attack just over halfway through the route, and had to walk (defeat!). But before my brain allowed me to spiral, a nice lady shared the kindness of the running community. She made small talk about appreciating the gorgeous summer day, the joy derived from our ability to move our bodies. It wasn't a “good” run, but I still completed the race. I wasn't last, or even close to it, and I found out it didn't matter anyway! It wasn't perfect, but now I knew it was possible. I kept signing up… 2017, 2018, 2019, 2023, 2024.
I wish I could say that the anxiety about race day went away with training - it didn't, I just became increasingly okay with the uncertainty of doing things that scare me. Races remain some of my worst run times but it doesn’t matter to me. For me, races are a valuable way to commit to my practice of running. Running helped my mental health, but it didn't cure my anxiety disorder. It wasn't until 2023 that I managed to run a whole race without a panic attack. Running's biggest gift has been the confidence to know I can be scared and do it anyway.
Each season had its physical injuries and struggles, especially the years I felt my runs should feel faster and increasingly effortless than they had the season before. I found that when I stopped pushing for a specific time and distance, I enjoyed my process more, and my body felt better for it. Accepting my runs at an easy pace meant letting my legs move, feeling my heart in my chest, and the air in my lungs, and allowing my brain to wander.
A reel highlighting my process with a speedy overview of 50% of my runs in Strava between april and november of 2023
I’ve continued chasing those sunsets as a way to come back to myself. Running remained a companion through a decade of life changes like school, grief, careers and everything in between. I'm no longer heartbroken, but I still run for my mental health. Moving my mindset from self-punishment to accepting the version of me that did show up made all the difference.
A decade in from my first race, I'm still slow (and red, and sweaty); running takes effort, and now expect it to look and feel like work. I don’t expect myself to constantly get faster. I'm not trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon, I'm just showing up for myself one run at a time, several times a week. To me, that is success and the goal, all in one. Regardless of how fast it’s getting done, I’m still putting in the time, miles, and heart.
Team Polly - Amazing running friends new and old! and Alana’s first race!
The most unexpected and enjoyable part of my running journey has been sharing it with my loved ones! Over the years, my stubborn commitment to showing up and doing it slow has given permission to gradually entice several friends and my partner into joining me for both runs and races.
It brings so much joy to drive to the races together and meet at the finish line for pictures and snacks. We share our goals in our running group chat, give each other kudos on Strava, and cheer for each other’s attempts and achievements. This year we even joined a free beginners run club in KW (it only took me a decade) and have made new running friends. There's beauty in community, a lesson I didn't expect to learn in a solo sport.
Alana and Megan did the Waterloo Classic in 2023 and were pumped about it
So if you've been thinking about running a race, trying a club, or even lacing up for the first time, I hope you'll think of me: sweaty, slow, red in the face, and loving it anyway!
If I can do it, so can you, because I know we're both capable of hard things. You may even find yourself having fun because the best part of running is that it doesn’t have to be punishment, it can be joyful, silly, and full of heart.
Nabil & Megan run as Santa in 2023
