The finish line. The place where you want to collapse and quit, but instead you must keep going. The critical place. The critical time.

The place where dreams take flight and soar, or fall flat and lay dormant. The place that will take every ounce of your will to ignore all that is screaming at you to stop, and instead go faster.

You are the plane on the runway.  Engines are roaring, every gear is engaging at its full capacity. Will you take off, or will you crash, you wonder.

Suddenly, it’s quieter, lighter. 

Could it be? Are you flying? 

You can barely dare to look outside the window. 

Yes, it’s true. You have lift off. 

There is some reprieve.  Some time for reflection as you soar, and then start to climb higher.

You learn to embrace this feeling of flying. Where will you go? What heights will you attain? 

The sky is no longer the limit. You are airborne. You can fly. 

One day you will touch down at a destination, and people will ask you: “how did you do it?”

And you’ll reply: 

“I saw the finish line up ahead. I started to push harder and faster than I even knew I could. I threw caution to the wind. I drowned out the thoughts of failure screaming at me. I ran until I thought I would fall down and die, and then……….I started to fly.”

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