I was staying in Santa Monica for the month.
I remember it was the weekend of the LA marathon.
I walked up to the corner of where I was staying to watch the marathon.
There were so many humans.
I remember the variety of human faces.
The different colors of skin.
The various ethnicities.
Humans walked and some jogged.
Human men jogged with their shirts off, some had their shirts on.
Humans were paraplegic.
Humans were riding a bicycle.
Humans had a coach following them and encouraging them.
Humans made the walking or jogging seem effortless.
Humans made it look like hard work.
Humans looked like they were struggling.
Humans were flailing their arms, some kept their arms in a groove.
Humans had stern faces. Others were smiling.
Humans worked through a cramp with painful faces.
Humans were listening to music.
Humans were short and tall and varied in height.
Humans of all age ranges.
Humans had prosthetic legs or wheelchairs.
Observers and watchers surrounded this walking and jogging crowd.
Some cheered them on. Yelling, blowing horns. Offering water.
Dogs watched, too.
Humans who were observing shouted, "Girl power." "You can do it." "Almost there." "Looking strong."
And this is it, humans, from all walks of life, from all backgrounds, doing what they know how to do: walking, jogging, or running, or watching and observing.
Humans doing the best they know how to do.
Do you believe you're doing your best?
If yes, I wonder if you believed you were doing your best during your most difficult of times.
If not, what would happen if you did believe you were doing your best?
Life can be like a marathon.
And how we see the marathon affects how we experience it.
