Tuesday, April 8, 2014
G is for Going Forward: RoboFriend's Advice for the Weary Writer
Kidding, of course. In all seriousness, I wish I could share her genuine love of sweating, but I do enjoy spending time with my friend, and so we find ourselves working out together now and again. Usually this involves her signing us up for some new and crazy physical challenge. It is because of this friend that I've had the experience of throwing repeated roundhouse kicks to a punching bag, crawling through the mud at six in the morning while an army drill sergeant yells in my ear (true story), and my favorite of all: running Philadelphia's Broad Street Run, a ten mile race through the City of Brotherly Love. And yes, in case you're wondering, you can smell the cheese steaks while you're running. It's pure torture.
We've run that particular race twice now, and to her this is about as difficult as playing a game of hopscotch. Sometimes we've "trained together", which is just a fancy way of saying she ties a rope around my neck and drags me around for several miles while making encouraging statements to keep me from keeling over.
There is one particularly encouraging thing she told me before our first race that has always stuck with me. "If you feel like you can't finish," she said, "just remember that all you have to do is keep going forward." She went on to explain that as long as I put one foot in front of the other, no matter how slowly, I would still be moving forward. She encouraged me not to think about how many miles were left, but just to focus on continuing to make progress, even if I was barely moving (and let me tell you, folks, I was barely moving by about mile eight of this race). But I did finish, and strangely, I actually enjoyed the experience.
Today I'm in the middle of my writing race and I feel like veering off course for the nearest cheese steak stand and watching the others whiz by me. I have an editing deadline to meet, and I'm nowhere near the end of this blog challenge. I also have a little one who seems to be under the impression that her crib has some sort of elite room service package which allows her to order all sorts of things in the middle of the night. "Chocolate milk. Other chocolate milk. Tiger! Bunny! Bunny!"
I'm running on very little sleep, and I feel like there's too much in front of me. But I'm up. And I'm putting one word in front of the other. I'm moving slowly, but I'm moving forward. Thanks, RoboFriend. :)