In a running race there is always a clear idea of where to start and where to finish. There is a start line and a finish line. In a 100m race you can usually see the end point, if your eyesight is good enough, otherwise you just run as fast as you can in front of you and hope that you are running in a straight line. Obviously for backstroke races in a pool you would be going backwards fast. If it is an important race there are usually lanes with large plastic buoys tied together to guide you to stay in your lane.
Back to the running race. On top of the knowing the where, you also know the when; there is a race starter, usually with a starter pistol, or in the minor leagues a person with a very large voice or a couple of small planks of wood. Once everyone is ready then the race starter gets to decide when the race starts and then, either fires the starter pistol into the air after saying “On your marks, get set…” Or for the less sophisticated races the word “GO!” is shouted, or small planks of wood are clapped together. The adrenalin is pumping and if all is successful then all runners are running in the same direction and they have all started at the same time.
Ah, but there is the false start. If someone starts too early then the whole race must begin again. Then there is the race where the runner decides to take a break and wave to the crowd after spotting a parent. Of course these runners are not particularly serious about the race and would rather wave and smile and let the other runners pass. That brings me to the why. Why are we running in the first place? To compete with other people in other races? To try and beat our own records next time, to get prize money and scholarships, to feel the wind on our faces and hear the cheers from the crowd? Many people have just as many different reasons for what they do. That makes us human, doesn’t it? It would be rather dull otherwise.
If you don’t have the right equipment for the race, the right shoes or the right shirt, with the correct logo, or number can you still enter the race? Some Olympic runners began their careers running barefoot. They got around the rules. If you cannot afford the entry fee, can you run? If you get a sponsor you could but why would the sponsor pay? How do you prove that you are good enough just to get to the start line? Some runners never get the chance to perform. Others know that they are good enough but don’t have the confidence or the time to enter the race as they are concentrating so hard on the day to day living and believe that the race is unreachable. Others are just not informed and don’t even know that there is a race. Who decides?
But I am not in a running race, I am writing. There is no clear starting point. Is it when the first idea appears in your head, or is it when you write your first draft? Or is it when you are doodling on a napkin in a café, brainstorming while listening to the couple argue behind you in the booth next to yours? Or is it when you have dismissed so many other ideas that the actual one you decide on appears.
How do we proceed once started? Like in a running race there are many styles of running, some are more proficient than others. Some styles become phenomena and everyone tries to copy it or perfect it, others have unique styles and perhaps win the occasional race but consistently running well. And there are other styles that are not conducive to running at all but they run anyway either because they are forced, encouraged by ill meaning people or because the runners think that is what they are supposed to do. Finding a style to suit yourself is easier said than done. But the more you run or write the clearer it becomes into your own style. After running/writing you may decide that it never really was your thing anyway. But the fact that you tried and carried on something consistently is the beginnings of a very good habit. This habit can be carried over onto anything.
When does it end? If you finish writing a draft, you can rewrite and rewrite and can usually always improve. But deadlines and feelings of “I’m sick of the sight of it” makes you rid your hands of it. I suppose the finish line of a race is like the deadline of a work. But if you finish early and hand in your work does that mean you have finished the race? Not necessarily, as it might be handed back or it might not even be seen by anyone. I suppose this could be the staggered race where everyone is allocated a spot depending on their ability. The faster runner has to run further but because of their speed they are expected to finish first.
Do you begin to slow down just before the finish line because you know the end is near? Or do you run flat out right to the very end? Or do you give up and not finish because you know you can finish but chose not to? Do you feel elated just before the finish line but then instead of feeling excited after finishing the race, you feel disappointed. All the training and hard work has led up to this end point but now it truly has ended. Or do you pick yourself up again and train for another race? So many different emotions are in your head, how does the brain keep up with what we are feeling? I suppose we associate different emotions with different things, events, smells, sounds and people. Who says that we have to feel the same emotion each time? We don’t.
And if you don’t like running then don’t do it. Try something else!
Let the race begin! (Or if you prefer just smile and wave.)
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