Finishing Strong

I was a runner from about the age of 22 until the age of 61.  I stopped running for reasons I don’t care to go into. 

During those years of running, I often participated in distance races.  The 10k was popular when I started, and in later years, the 5k took over.  There’s a thing in racing that I would say almost all racers try to do – they want to finish the race strong.  Some of that is an effort to pass a few runners in the last stretch and comes from a competitive nature.  However, some of it is just a natural desire to cross the finish line as if the race did not take everything you had.  It did not beat you.  You want to finish the race strong even if another runner wasn’t in sight.

That desire to finish strong has carried over into other aspects of my life. I don’t know if finishing strong sprouted out of racing, or if it was a natural tendency that was clearly manifested in racing.

One example is the desire to finish the workday strong.  I arrive at work around 5:30 a.m.  By that time, I’ve had two cups of coffee, and I hit the ground running.  There are things I want to do in that first hour and a half of work, and I do it with vigor. By the end of the day, I’ve depleted a lot of energy, but something in my head makes me want to finish the day like I started.  I refuse to let the day beat me up.

Another thing that comes to mind is my work life in general.  My hope is to work full time another 5-6 years and then possibly retire.  That will put me at the age of 70. By that time things could change… maybe I will need to keep working full time.

What the heck, you may be thinking. If I think about it too much, and in the wrong way, I also question this plan.

I try not to frame that last day at the end of those 5 years as the goal.  Sure, it’s “a” goal, but not “The” goal.

I want to finish my full-time work life strong.  I don’t want to slow down, work slower, be less productive, or be of less value during those last years.  Yes, age will affect me to a degree, but my desire is to press on through it.  I want to finish strong.

I don’t want to approach every day as simply one step closer to retirement. Rather, I want to approach every day as one more day that I have the privilege to do what I do… one more day to be of value… one more day to lift someone’s spirits… one more day to grow through difficulties…one more day to be the salt of the earth.

It is indeed a privilege.  It just happens to be called a job.

The Journey

 

Nobody prepared me for the season of life we have been easing into for a few years and have officially just crossed into - the “Empty Nest”.

I never cared for that term, although it is descriptive.  With birds, it’s that biological event of young birds leaving the nest to live on their own. 

The reason I don’t care for the term is that as human beings, there is much more involved than physical growth and the leaving our “nest”. We don’t view it as a mother bird does.  We are much more complex.  We have spent a lifetime with our children, and as they leave, we can’t help but have a mixture of feelings.

It is perhaps when the last one flies off that the impact of our children leaving hits us the hardest.

Now don’t get me wrong… it’s healthy to leave the nest… let’s get that out of the way.  The health of it isn’t up for debate, and it’s also not what’s on my mind at the moment. Also, we will always parent to a degree.  We will always be available to our kids. That’s not on my mind either.

The journey… THAT’s what’s on my mind.  I have been encouraged throughout my life, regarding all aspects of life, to “enjoy the journey”, and advised that “it’s the journey that’s important.”  I’ve taken that encouragement and tried to apply it to different situations. Sometimes it’s been a struggle. For instance, I didn’t view college so much as journey to enjoy.  It was something to hurry and get done.

With raising kids, I didn’t have to even try.  I think Tina and I both instinctively enjoyed our journey of parenting. It was never a task we were in any hurry to get through.  Incidentally, that’s a good thing because with four children,  we have been at it for about 30 years. 

I wish there were other areas of my life where I instinctively enjoyed the journey, where I wasn’t so much focused on getting through, but rather where I was fully immersed in the present.

Maybe, just maybe, this was a 30 year lesson of learning how to enjoy a journey without even trying. For that, I thank our kids.  You have indeed been a joy.