Keep Going, Finish the Race

Positive Post #4

Don't let the little things trip you up!

The best way I have thought to illustrate this is a literal example. It is a tear-jerker and SUPER embarrassing but I hope it is inspiring in the end.

For a couple years in high school I ran track. In my heart I am a cross country runner, but the cross country coach always roped the team into running distance for track season.

I sometimes ran the mile, but mostly the two mile race. Two miles around a 400m track means ... 8 laps. Running in a circle 8 times. I definitely did not like that, but I gave it a fair shot for a couple years.

In track you wear a specific kind of shoe called "spikes." It is a lightweight shoe with some plastic protrusions as well as about 8 spaces or less for metal spikes to be screwed into the bottom of the shoe. This helps give your foot traction as you run.

 

Since I ran on a variety of tracks I had a variety of spikes in my tool kit. They ranged from what was appropriate on a fancy schmancy "real" track (*cough* Oxnard) to what was appropriate on our low class dirt tracks in the Antelope Valley.



At one particular track meet I was prepping my spikes from "low class" to "fancy schmancy," when I couldn't get some of the spikes out. They had been ground into my shoe and were stuck. My coach reassured me that it would probably be fine if I used a variety of spikes in the bottom of my shoe. Off I went to run the two mile race!

The first time I fell on that awful spiky red track, it hurt my pride more than my knees. I picked myself up and kept going, a bit surprised at the fall. I took my strides more carefully. Then I fell again. And again, and again, and again. With each fall I became more frustrated and my knees seared with pain. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I was trying as hard as I could to be focused, to pace myself, to take long strides, to pick up my legs and feet. My bony knees became raw and each fall hurt more. I felt that lump building in the back of my throat and tears welling in my eyes.



I remember falling at least 10 times that race. Yep. Over ten times in 8 laps.

But I kept going. I kept up my wobble jog.

I was lapped, the next race started. My failure was out there for the world to see and every time I lumbered past the grandstands I felt it. But I knew I had to finish.

That would be cool if the crowds in the stands gave me a standing ovation as I stumbled across the finish line. That would be fantastic if the director gave me a bouquet and medal. That would be nice if hot EMTs whisked me away to administer to my raw bleeding knee caps. That would have been satisfying if my team bore me up on their shoulders and carried me away.



But none of that happened.

The specifics of the story seem so far away, the exact spikes in the bottom of my shoe, the number of times I fell, my final finishing time. When talking to my coach afterwards, he figured it must have been the variations of spikes in my shoe were responsible for my downfall (haha get it?).

But with all pride now vanished, I learned an important lesson that day.

Keep getting up. Keep going. Finish the race. 
Don't let your falls, your perceived failures, stop you from continuing and finishing.

Recently I stumbled up this quote by Jeffrey R. Holland, taken from a speech you can read here.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/118082280/jeffrey-r-holland-quote-made-on

Your wounds will heal (albeit with much pain and maybe some scars). And you won't even remember how many times you fell. But you will remember crossing that finish line.


And what more? You'll run again!