Once, not so long ago, I had this text pinned near my work station. My gaze would fall on it when I sat down to work in the morning, and when I got up to get my tea or to leave for home in the evening.
It inspired me more than anything else.

But now, I beg to differ.
Running is not for me.
Running is for lions and gazelles. Or maybe for Usain Bolt. And others whose survival depends on their speed.

For me, it is Persistence.
Persistence sprinkled with luxuries like afternoon naps, stops to smell the roses, getting drenched in the rain, taking evening walks,…
And then getting back to work.
It’s about getting depressed once in a while. Getting mad at the world. Feeling pleased about a small encouraging email. Or sharing a laugh with a close friend. Or making plans that would never happen. Dreaming about getting even with others.
And then getting back to work.
It’s about taking a break from work one day because I am tired. Or lazy. Or because I just don’t feel like working.
And then that day will pass and I will get back to work.
It’s about attending to chores in the house – grumbling. Swearing out loud when I can’t take it anymore. Hugging my son just the way he likes to be hugged.
And then getting back to work.
Slow, perhaps, but steady.

For me there is no running. And no prize that comes with the race.
But there is persistence.
Because I have dreams, too. And the wish to make them come true.

I don’t want to race after my dreams.

Because I know, if I am persistent enough, they will wait for me to catch up.