Eleventh Mile


Eleventh Mile.

As I write this, I’m reminded of Eminem’s song Eight mile. Everyone’s race and journey are different. It’s about embracing the struggles. IT’S ABOUT PRESSING ON AND PRESSING THROUGH despite what’s in front of you.

Sometimes it’s good to not think and just do.  God would whisper to me YOU GOT THIS, humans would pray for me, and I’d also whisper, “HELP.”

I’ve remained private about certain struggles, and maybe more or less about mental battles as well.  Some very fleshy and some very real, battles, for our battle is not against flesh and blood but against principalities, rulers, and authorities, things unseen and unknown.

Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve been drowning.  I started working as waitress at a more upscale place, and there are some days where I’m like what am I doing? Waiting tables, may considerably be the most hardcore job on the planet. You are not only interacting with the general public, you have to decipher your client’s mood, their needs, wants, all the while suggesting food you haven’t tasted (which is a management issue).

I was running in the woods a few days ago, and I was reflecting on this season, as some changes happen as quickly as it would when you switch a light on.  It just changes. I was enrolled in graduate school; it was transitional for sure, and it started two weeks early.  I dived in; worked at day, went to film classes at night, and worked online for my MBA. My first day of vacation was bouncing around to different coffee shops and grocery stores in a small mountain town for WIFI to complete a project on ACCESS (the evil stepbrother of Excel).

I entitled this entry, the eleventh mile because upon completion of my half marathon last November, at the start of the eleventh mile we went up the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. It was a beastly thing and it was again, the eleventh mile.  I’m not sure if you have ever competed in a running race.  If you are not a competitive runner but more recreational, and your goal is to strictly finish, that’s it; maybe beat a runner here or there but the competition is with yourself, no one else.  After the sixth mile or so, there was a woman who decided I was the one to beat, she would start and then stop, as in she would walk, and I would pass her.  When she decided to run again, she would pass me, well as a runner that is not stopping, this is equally frustrating and annoying. However, as we came up to the start of the bridge, I passed her, and as she began to walk, I ran faster mainly to end the last two miles as quickly as possible and her stop/starting wouldn’t be any more painful than it already was.  I didn’t see her after the race.

The eleventh mile, in life, during a project, an intense workout, run, marriage battle, it can be the most grueling experience. I image something similar while completing a full marathon. You’re so close to it being completed, and you have that last little stretch to go, so close you can smell it- don’t give up. It’s tough I know. Don’t give up.  Don’t do it. Don’t regret stopping. Don’t stop.

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