I am tempted to tell myself that I am pathetic because I started working on a ten-page essay last Saturday and as of today I have only 7.5 pages to show for it. But then I realize that I didn't have the faintest clue at the start of last Saturday what I was going to write, and now I have 7.5 pages! Besides, I have written 32.5 pages altogether since the semester began, not counting poetry and miscellaneous. That's not too bad.
It's the same way I am beating myself up because I can run only 1.7 miles at once right now, instead of the many miles other people can. I forget that this is most endurance I have had for five years, and that a month ago I could finish barely half a mile without stopping. I guess I'm doing OK.
Besides, to beat myself up for my best efforts is to be ungrateful to God for what He has decided to give me right now. Who am I to tell God that His gifts aren't good enough?