I tend to quit at seventeen.
When I ran a marathon, I did great until mile 17. That’s when I lost her. I walked through the mile 17 water stop. My running partner, my friend Katie, knew that she couldn’t slow down. Her momentum needed to carry her through the next nine and two-tenths miles. “I’ll catch up to you,” I yelled. But I couldn’t. It was a loss in slow motion. There she was about 50 feet in front of me, turning a corner. There she was, about 50 feet in front of me, going up a hill. There she was, 55 feet in front of me, passing a duo. I willed myself to go faster, but I never made up any ground. My legs wouldn’t churn fast enough to cover the distance. I felt discouraged, and I started to walk, further widening the gap. Katie was right. Once you stop, you lose your momentum.
I did a 30 day yoga challenge, and I displayed daily diligence…until day 17. My sister and I sent one another daily photos of our malformed downward dogs and newly (almost) existent biceps. I stayed accountable until one day when I didn’t receive a photo. “I’m tired, and it’s Friday,” I thought. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Tomorrow became Sunday and Sunday become Monday. I still have one more day of the yoga challenge to finish – on what should really be day 72.
Day 17 of this Slice of Life challenge is approaching, and I’m a little nervous. I know that the beginning isn’t the hard part. It’s that spot a little past the middle when you’ve already made it halfway and the next benchmark seems so far off. The sheen of a newly acquired hobby has tarnished, and it needs a little elbow grease to restore the luster. I’m incredibly thankful that I still have a companion on this writing journey. But even if I have to face the next days alone, I hope to look back and see that I’ve made it through the day seventeen slump.