Waiting

The red light. The boiling water. That first kiss. The baby's first word. With anticipation we wait. We wait for something. We wait for someone. We spend hours, days, years simply waiting. And as we wait, we learn. We train.

Training is not easy. It takes determination and perseverance. It means not always feeling up to it, but training nonetheless. It means trying to succeed when success seems completely out of reach. As the old saying goes, it takes blood, sweat, and tears.

Blood. A few humbling experiences of falling during a run on uneven pavement have shown me what it means to bleed. Afer falling, I always think "I hope noone just saw that," and yet at the same time I so desperately want someone to help me to my feet again. I look around. Noone. Then I am reminded that Someone is helping me up. I am reminded that I am training for the race, and I remember that training is what the race is really about. I get back up, bleeding, but running faster than before.

Sweat. It is impossible to train and not to sweat. When I think of sweating, it reminds me of releasing those things that I have held onto even though it feels almost impossible to let go. Yet letting go is like jumping into the shower after a long run, refreshing and cleansing. Letting go enables a new race to begin.

Tears. All of us have cried them. They remind us of our humanity. Our vulnerability. Trickling down my face as I run, each tear represents the release of something held inside. Sadness. Frustration. Fear. After letting them fall, I feel the contradiction of being weary and strong at the same time.

I keep running. I keep waiting.