The magic of a starting line

and how to approach the unknown that comes next, Joy Ride vol 21

I’m running a half marathon tomorrow and I’m up early with pre-race jitters. When the voices in my head start whining about the weather and complaining about the distance, I call a timeout and remind myself that I get to do this. No one is forcing me to run 13.1 miles tomorrow. I chose to do this because I want to. I get to toe a starting line tomorrow morning.

We talk about how beginnings are scary, but they’re also really fun. We get to do this. We get to race. We get to build our Dream Projects. Because we want to, because we’re curious, because we can. 

We sign up for a race because we believe something might be possible (completing a distance, attaining a certain time). Not just theoretically possible someday, but possible on a predetermined day within a certain set of conditions. This is what makes a race a race. There is energy and focus and intrigue and unknown. 

Lots and lots of unknown. Which is to say, a whole host of things that are out of our control and, likely, many things that we wish were different. For instance:

The start time of the race is obscenely early. Out of my control.

There’s a really long walk to get to the start line. Out of my control.

Predicted 30 mph winds. Out of my control.

A chance of lightning which means that the race could be canceled. Out of my control.

I wish that I could control (read: change) many of these things, but I cannot so I try to shift my focus to the things that I can control. Last night I ran a bath and poured in half a pound of epsom salts. I sipped diluted gatorade to top off my hydration. I met friends for cocktails, but skipped the alcohol. I went to bed at a reasonable hour. We do what we can.

Still, I was up at 4:30am obsessively refreshing my browser to get the latest forecast and trying to interpret the various weather elements on line graphs that appear to have been developed by the creators of Minesweeper.

It’s hard to come to terms with the things we can’t control. It’s hard to admit that we aren’t all-powerful and then decide to try anyway.

What’s true about running is also true about Dream Projects: what happens after the starting line is unknown. The magic is in making the approach, in toeing the starting line, and remembering that we get to.

You can’t see what happens next. You get to be surprised by the route.

You can’t predetermine the outcome. You get to watch the result unfold.

You can’t know everything in advance. You get to be in awe of something you did, but aren’t quite sure how.

You don’t get to pick the conditions and there’s no guarantee of what happens once you start. The experience will almost certainly be different than you expect. The outcome might look a lot different than you imagine. But one thing is for certain, there’s magic at the starting line.

On the back flap of an envelope, Emily Dickinson wrote this poem:

In this short Life that only lasts an hour

How much - how little - is within our power

Meet Your New Support System

Brainstorm Road is a creative community for everyday people with Dream Projects.​Hundreds of people are already inside championing each other’s ideas, giving and getting advice, and encouraging each other to stay the course.

Discover what it feels like to have people eager to support you as you bring your Dream Project to life.

Brainstorm Road is open to join through January 8th. Click below to learn more and become a member today.

---

Have a question? We’ve got an answer.

🚙 This week only: Schedule a call with our Community Lead, Rick Kitigawa, or join a Q&A session January 6th at 1pm ET.

We can’t wait to see you at the starting line.

-Kristin + Margo