I have made many mistakes as a new runner. I have stopped and started my running program at least half a dozen times. I have tethered my ego to my mileage and felt humiliated when I've come up short. I have attempted speeds that were too fast because I thought that's how fast real runners go. But through it all, I have given my body permission to do what it can, to let its slow improvements be enough to make me proud – no matter how many runners pass me. Recently, after a run, I stood before the full-length mirror in my bedroom. I admired my body, despite the blemishes that time has left behind. I admired the sweat that clung to my collarbone like a badge of honor. And I admired my legs, which are capable of carrying me farther than I ever imagined.