Andrew is running his first marathon this weekend. He's panicking about it, navigating around the land of "what if?" to the point where he knows all the landmarks and on a dime, could give a tour of its every fear and apprehension.
I assured him that any of his worries not only can materialize, but probably will and that a lot of the pain and discomfort of running a marathon cannot be avoided but they can be managed. And that managing the obstacles that pop up in his path is the key to crossing the finish line.
He's going to get tired, he's going to hurt. He may even throw up and get diarrhea. But that's what gels, ibuprofen, Imodium and port-a-potties are for.
It's like life. Some of us struggle with eating too much. Others hate being around people. Some can't sleep, some are scared of commitment, and some have enough dandruff to totally kill their shot at a social life. That's just the way it is, because we are human and we are alive.
Nobody is guaranteed a smooth sail through the finish line. The more people I meet, the more I realize that everyone has a story. And in each story is a struggle. An obstacle. A bout of diarrhea, some pain, some nausea, some exhaustion. These are the things we are called to manage, if we intend to finish this race. They're unavoidable, and so we face them head-on, right? With our names on our bibs, with our loves at our sides, and with drinks at the finish.
No comments:
Post a Comment