There is a race.
You train, prepare, spend countless hours practicing, perfecting, pushing.
The time gets closer and the jitters start to build.
Are you ready?
Can you do this?
What happens if you fail and what does failure look like?
You refocus, you visualize what success means, you show up at the start early.
You’re off, the race has started, you take off too fast pulled forward by the excitement and the energy, like a spring being released.
Steady, you have a long way to go.
The miles role by, at first you have no idea how you will ever finish - so far still to go.
By the middle you start to hurt a bit, the energy of the pull is gone but you are in a grove and you keep moving forward.
You really hurt now, three quarters of the way through.
How are you going to finish?
Why did you sign up for this in the first place?
Your friends are sleeping in, eating bunch, and here you are, hurting in the rain for what?
You buckle down, push a little harder. You know you grow when you hit the edge of your comfort zone.
Suddenly you look up and realize you are near the end, you can hear the crowd, feel the energy and you pick up the pace, put in the last of what you have.
The final end is the sprint - legs, arms, lungs are one, your mind stops talking, you body just moves and you are in the moment.
The end comes, somehow so much faster and slower than you thought.
You cross the finish line, you double over, sides hurting, breath gasping, filled with joy.
You are stronger than you realized.
You showed up and gave it your all.
Everyone is going about their day, oblivious of your race, but you know.
You know you stronger, different, changed.
You hold that knowledge of where you have come and how far you have come.
You will need the strength you found another day and you hold it close, glowing next to your heart.
And so this was our year and Mt. Fuji was our sprint, full of beauty and promise. The year is past, the future not quite here, and we embraced every moment of our climb, not reflecting back on our journey preparing or transitioning home, but instead living each breath, in the moment with all of its gifts.
And now we prepare to board the plane home, it is like we are crossing the finish line of this year. We are all together, our worst fears were not realized and we have all gown in ways we didn’t know were possible. We will still need to stretch, catch our breath and adjust, but being here at this moment it feels great. The light and strength from this year is safely tucked away as we head home to family, friends, passions and purpose.
Thank you all for cheering us on, supporting us when we needed it, believing in us when we didn’t and pushing us to be more, see more and do more and to do less. We don’t plan to continue this blog at home, but I plan to continue writing and reflecting on life's journey, on healthcare as well as health and wellness and you are welcome to follow along. We look forward to the road ahead.
Farewell friends, it has been a great ride.