The Deceptive Finish Line

My heart was pounding. Picking up each foot took effort and determination, as if there were twenty-pound gnomes clinging gleefully to each ankle. I could see the end of the 5K race; I was almost there. Just a little more. Hoofta. Just a little more. When I finally crossed the line, I heaved and rested with my hands on my knees for a while, sucking in huge quantities of air. There was a celebration! We ate watermelon on Mainstreet and congratulated old friends on finishing the annual Summer Festival race. Then we gathered our things and walked the three miles back to the car.

Finish lines are funny things. They aren't really the end. They are a milestones, but you still have to keep walking. You still have to run another race tomorrow morning. And I like it that way. Most good stories have closure, but a healthy life does not. I discovered this when I came here this semester. I, like most senior graduates, had been eulogized, given money in the mail for months, and treated like the cat's meow during high school graduation. My senior class and I thought we were pretty darn cool, and it was a good finish line. Our story was done, and what a great story it had been.

But then we went to college. It was strange to realize that I was a college student. I guess I supposed I would never get this old, I would just somehow magically end as soon as I was done with high school. I realized (as I saw others among our freshman class realize) that I wasn't dead yet, and I had "miles to go, before I sleep." The finish line was a good place to stop and rest and regain my perspective, but it wasn't the end, thank Heaven.

We now approach the end of a truly remarkable first semester. I wouldn't trade it for anything. But I also know that as Einstein said, "Life is like riding a bicycle: you have to keep moving if you want to keep your balance." I am ready for the new race to start. I can't wait to see what mountains we all climb in the days and years ahead.