As a former serious, competitive runner who has slowed down significantly both in pace and in dedication to the sport, I often have moments of regret and sadness for what could have been. That’s no surprise—I’ve shared overshared about that in this space plenty.

Most days I’m proud of what I accomplished in my early 20s and even prouder of how I’ve moved forward from the days of letting my Garmin define my happiness and worth. I stand by what I wrote in my post about regret, recognizing that what I have now is infinitely more important and valuable to me than competitive running. And, many of the things that used to be important to me no longer are.

Still, though, I often crave that feeling I used to get when I’d run hard in a race with the crowd cheering, and the adrenaline rush of seeing that I’m about to get a PR. I still frequently envision myself finishing a marathon and feeling on top of the world, and of nurturing my competitive spirit once again. I want these things. They are important to me.

When I catch myself dreaming of those moments described above, I intercept them as quickly as possible to remind myself that I’ve messed up and will never be the runner I want to be. And now it’s too late.

But that’s just the thing… it isn’t too late.

I recently saw an Instagram post by Claire Bartholic, an Asheville, NC runner and owner of the adored account, @theplantedrunner, which I highly recommend following if you don’t already. All of her posts are brilliant, and you can imagine why this one in particular (see below) spoke to me.

This gave me the reality check that I needed and upon seeing it, I was also reminded of my grandfather who first began experimenting with running in his 40s. He went on to finish 20 marathons and became one of the top competitors of the Masters Running scene in the Albany, NY area. A true legend.

Simply because I haven’t yet run a marathon that I feel proud of, or because I’ve eased up when it comes to competition, does not mean that it’s game over.

Some things will never happen, like competing in the Olympics or joining the elite runners in the first wave of the Boston Marathon. But it isn’t helpful to dwell on what won’t happen when there is so much that still can. Especially when I am sure that what didn’t happen is for the best.

I’m 29 and I have much to be proud of, and even more to look forward to. I will finish a marathon feeling strong, and I will become an involved member in my local running scene. These things are important to me and want power (AKA intrinsic motivation) goes a long way.

Don’t count me out quite yet, but don’t hold your breath. I’ll get there when I get there.