Grumble Alley sits adjacent to 'Barely Get Along Street.' It is the neighborhood of mediocrity whose inhabitants have long since given up on running the race of life; their crumpled dreams litter the sidewalks. Its boundaries and population are immense, stretching from the inner cities to the most distant suburbs. You may recognize those who reside there regardless of where you encounter them; they shuffle when they walk, their gaze averted to avoid eye contact. They wear a banner of hopelessness sporting a calling card that says, 'I gave up.'
Why do people drop out of the race of life, where did their excitement go, who stole their hopes and dreams? Do they even know? This race is a marathon, what matters most is that you run it with gusto. It requires a commitment to remaining in the game, the ability to find joy in the changing scenery and a willingness to press on even when quitting appears to be the only option. One must finish it with the same excitement they began with to be a champion.
Running a marathon provides a gamut of challenges that can become a part of the trip from broken shoestrings to a broken leg. All can cause you to fall, some can convince you to stop. To arrive at the finish line requires you to remain in the race, no matter what and to see the finish line as a mirage, always advancing forward to ensure greater advances on the road to the win. The finish line is where you establish it, the rewards where you are willing to accept the offering. You choose the prize.
If you have left the race and long ago given up hope it is time to rejoin your dream, or find a better one. Detours, breakdowns and breakups are scattered along the path, there to challenge you to grow stronger and more determined to finish with pride. You came equipped in this life to win the race; only your choices can move the finish line to a place where misery is your companion.
Letting go of the things you must have to maintain an impression, a friend or acceptance of anyone is required to move the finish line to the one champions cross. All of those things are bound with the fear of losing them and force you to draw your finish line far closer. Champions go the distance, they run for the roses, refusing to give up; they barely notice the reasons they can't win. Your fate is determined and delivered by where you draw the finish line. Run the race; go the distance.
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