There’s something about 13.1 that feels doable. The distance is set and measured. The starting line is here. The finish is there. Each step takes me a measurable distance closer to the finish line that is as close as possible to exactly 13.1 miles away.
It’s a race.
Mostly it’s just against myself since I’m not at the point of winning much of anything with a normal sized field of people running alongside me.
But I like the control and the set obligation of a half marathon. You run this far and then you stop. Everyone along the sides of the course is there to support you and cheering the endeavor on. Everyone in the race with you is doing the same thing. Maybe fighting different things specifically. I just get tired of breathing hard and want to walk. And I often do. Maybe other people are beating back different things.
But we’re all running together. We’re all in the same sunlight or enjoying the same shade or being surprised by the same incline.
Together and alone.
Going the same place at different paces. In charge of our own results.
Sometimes in life it feels like we’re divided by our varying goals and struggles and occupations, but maybe it’s not all that different from a race after all. Just a little harder to define.
Linking up for Five Minute Friday today! Write for five minutes with the prompt ‘thirteen’ and see where it takes you. Just a fun way to practice writing something. even if it’s short.
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