"Where Are We Going So Fast?" by James R. Warda: Writing is Running is Life

Waiting to run the Chicago Soldier Field 10-Miler

I write. I run. And I’m alive – at least I am after I’ve hit the snooze button a few times.

And each of these has something in common.

The blank.

With writing, it’s the blank page. Sitting there. Waiting. Sometimes the words crash through you upon it like a wild artist throwing paint. And sometimes it simply mocks you.

With running, it’s the open road ahead. It also waits. Sometimes it’s easier to start. You feel good. The air is cool. Your muscles quickly find their groove. Other days, there’s a bulldozer on your back.

With life, it’s waking up to the new day. Sometimes you quickly focus in, remember your purpose and get at it. Other days, you’re worn down and don’t even remember where you put the car keys.

And each blank asks.

Are you willing to do what it takes?

It asks, knowing though that, at some point, probably many points along the way, it will get hard.

Moments in which you’ll want to give up. When you’ve failed and tried and failed again.

You’ll sit at your computer, staring at that blinding whiteness.

Or you’ll get to that fourth mile and feel your hamstrings screaming.

Or you’ll try to start you own company, and still not know how to get from here to there without benefits and bi-weekly paychecks.

But when you make it through that wall of pain or doubt or fear, or possibly all three, you will learn the truth – that you are indeed someone who can make it through.

Which is the true prize.

So, if you’re ready, let’s go, my friend.

We’ll do it together.