Dear Fellow Sprinter in Marathon of Life,

In a world where everybody’s lives are a perpetual display of praises, accolades, achievements, and accomplishments, it is very easy to continually compare yourself to other people.

The truth is, you can always find someone who has more: more money, more fans, more followers and in most relevant in our online space, more traffic.

Comparing yourself to people who have more is not going to turn you into one of them. However, if you compare less and create more, you might actually become a person who has more.

No matter how much you accumulate wealth or “earthly posessions”, you cannot take any of it with you when you die. Just like most board games, like chess, once you are done; everything goes back packed nicely into a box.

Joel Osteen also said this over, the weekend: “It is easy to be tempted to go through life competing with everyone around us when we see someone who’s more talented, better looking or has more gifts. Instead of running our race and being comfortable with who we are, oftentimes we feel inferior and think,”

“I’ve got to catch up to them.” The problem with this unhealthy competition is that it is a never-ending cycle. There will always be someone ahead of us. But it’s a very freeing thing when you realize, “I’m not competing with you. I don’t have to have as big a house as my neighbor to feel good about myself. I don’t have to keep up with my co-worker,”

“I don’t have to be a certain size. I don’t have to have as many Christmas lights outside. No, I understand that I’m not in competition with my friend, my neighbour or my co-worker. Instead, I’m going to be the best me that I can possibly be.”

My life is a race. But who I run it with, is a choice I get to make. If I run this race with relatives, friends, co-workers, acquaintances, neighbours, I am left gasping, disheartened, desperate, insecure and lonely.

My life is a race. One that I choose to run with myself, not against anyone else. Because this is my race, I get to choose the parameters that I judge it by.

This is my race. It serves me. It is also about me. It is definitely me and who I am.

You’re doing it again.

It’s the night before a big race and once again you’re tossing and turning because you’ve started to doubt the hard work and training. You’re questioning whether you can handle the miles and mountains, and overly concerned about that final long run or the week you took off while on vacation.

This is what you always do.

You doubt. You get scared. And frankly, I’m pretty damn tired of it.

So listen up … and I mean really listen. I know you’ve worked hard and put in the training, and I know you can tough it out when you need to.

How do I know?

Because I know you, for one. And because right now, as I’m writing this letter, I’m committing to the training dedication you’ll need.

No promises.

It won’t always be pretty — you’re not perfect, after all — but I will make you proud.

We cool? Cool.

Now for the pep talk I’m sure you were hoping for …

You’ve got guts. You might not be able to see it through the nasty cloud of doubt, but you’ve got ’em.

So stop comparing yourself to others (I know, Irony is coming from me..sorry for this), and thank yourself for all the blood, sweat, and hard work. And the tears, there are always tears.

Just by signing up for this race, let alone taking action and getting out there day after day, you’ve proven to yourself that you have guts.

So trust them.

They’ve gotten you through a lot with your running. They’ve pushed you past terrible lows and helped you run through nausea, chaffing, and blisters. And no matter how ugly or magnificent those adventures were, you always made it to the finish line.

If one day you don’t, that’s OK too. It’s just a race — you’ll forgive yourself.

Alright, I know you’re a little scared, so instead of hiding from it, let’s talk about it.

(I think that’s something our Psyc professor taught us to do back in Psychology 101.)

Go ahead and admit that whatever it is you’re about to do is scary (it better be, anyway). Now use that fear just like you have in the past.

As long as you don’t hide from it, fear has always been your ally. Go ahead … lean on it again. Everything will be alright.

 Tell someone your biggest fears. Tell someone your biggest dreams. The ones that scare you. Paint, sing, dance, scream, run, read, write, immerse yourself in whatever lights even the smallest flame.

To anyone struggling right now, please hold on to hope. Please know it’s okay to talk about how you’re feeling. To the discouraged and disheartened, all you need to do is breathe. You are enough. I am too. Join me in speaking up about depression. Speaking up about addiction. Speaking up about coping mechanisms. Let’s get this conversation started.

Together, we can encourage one another. Let’s be cliché, and chase dreams, and have hope. So much hope. Jamie Tworkowski challenges us with, “Maybe wonder feeds hope and hope feeds wonder.”

So here’s to wondering. Here’s to feeling the fireworks. Here’s to second chances and putting life on pause. Here’s to dreaming of things that seem so impossible. Here’s to coffee at midnight and passion so wild it becomes terrifying. To new beginnings and holding on to life. Here’s to the nights I wasn’t sure I’d make it through. To the parts of ourselves we never showcase. To the hunger to love and be loved. To the awkward conversations. To the scars and the constant desire for a better tomorrow. To every time that you feel too much, remember that hope is real. Love is real. Remember that you need road trips, sunsets, coffee shops, and other people. Don’t forget to look up. And please remember that soft hope lingers. Here’s to one day at a time.

Sincerely,

The girl forever waiting to feel the fireworks

P.S. – Get some sleep, tomorrow is a big day