I'm learning . . . I can go further if I go slower.
I guess it's pretty obvious but I was really struggling until I figured it out. So I've made peace with the inevitability of finishing this run dead last, behind the walkers and the dogs* and the wheelchairs. I'm okay with that. Actually, it was Mowgli who said, "Just don't stop; even if you're jogging really slow, just keep jogging. Don't walk."
Well, I do walk, but I also figured out that jogging really slow is still jogging and I can go a lot farther at a slower pace. (Also, I ski really, really slowly. Actually, I defy gravity. I can actually ski uphill. That's another story that has nothing to do with this one.)
My friend Janet and my spiritual director Joyce are smiling right now. Because they really get this: that living at breakneck speed isn't necessarily an accomplishment, especially if you break your neck. Because they know that pace matters and that life really isn't a race. Because they know what Dallas Willard knows, that "you must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life, for hurry is the great enemy of the spiritual life today." Because they live their own lives from a calm center that is grounded in stillness and not speed, although each has a rich and full life and ministry. I'm learning . . .
*Yes, there are dogs registered for this run. In fact, they apologized that this year they are only allowing one dog per runner.