I’m in a race. It’s not a fast race, people take their time, the main key here is to finish. Some people take it very seriously and rush through the course and never notice the scenery, or the other competitors. This is a pretty long race, I think people should take their time and enjoy it. So here I am, running, more like walking actually. Checking out the scenery, meeting other competitors, getting to know them, and even building friendships with them. People even younger than I are racing past me at quite a fast pace, but I keep my slow steadiness going, I feel no need to rush. Now I’m nearing the end of the race and I can even see the finish line. I’m missing something though….my baton! I can’t finish the race without my baton. I can’t go back to find it though, I have to stop where I am and search for it.

At the finish line there are people waiting for me. Family, friends, bosses, co-workers, peers and other competitors who have passed me. I’m not sure if I want to be there yet. I don’t have my baton so I can’t finish anyways. I have a very strong urge to walk off the course and cross the barrier to exit the race into the crowd. Another part of me just wants to stay where I am. I’ve stopped walking now. I only move forward when another competitor bumps me from behind. I’m slowly inching my way to the side barrier. Maybe I’m just tired, but this race isn’t for me anymore. And that seat in the crowd looks oh so comfortable.