Life is a run. A continuous but short running. Nothing can stop this run. No obstacle can be interposed between the starting line and the finish line. Once you start your race, be aware of the finish line.
We run away from childhood, wanting to become young. We run away from youth by wanting to become adults. We run away from adult life, with responsibilities, and we are also eager for the elderly. Then let's realize we ran away from the beginning, and too close to the end.
We run from childhood to youth. And youth has its games, but it still has a lot. The games do not attract us, but the "something else". We run from youth, with her games, to adulthood; Then from the adult life with her "games" to the quiet life of the elderly. We run continually, from one stage of life to another, after that "something," after a chimera, which inevitably leads us to the finish line. We forget to live childhood, and youth, and adult life; We wake up too late living resigned heads of life, trying to catch what we have lost before.
In public running are winners but also losers; Are the crowned ones and those who receive nothing. Life is a different run. Everyone here loses and everyone can win. In this run all run for life, and to the end, they all lose their lives. They all run to the end, then slow down, hoping they can stop. He runs all his life at the highest speed, then, suddenly, step by step, or even stop. They do not want to cross the line of arrival; but must. The younger generation of runners push them from behind. They are also hurried to the same line of arrival.
Some run in this race of life for no purpose, so ending up with the finish line without realizing it. For them the beginning and the end must take place, but it does not matter. They do not run for the final prize, but only for the small rewards of the race. They are the marathon runners who do not think about the final, nor the prize there; They have enough of the water on the trail. He runs in zigzag, taking advantage of his little joy; The joy that will remove them from the prize. All their running is in vain.
Others, though fewer, run for a prize. They have a beginning and an end. They are still far away from the prize, but run out knowing they exist.
In the race of life, they run selfishly, individually. Everyone would want to be in front; They all want to be at the head of their platoon of runners. Some of them will end up, others will not. But surely they will all go out of their elbows, they all will push, all will try to draw back a little by those who have overcome them. There are groups, generations of runners; But every one runs for him. You can not run for others, but you can help them.
Most of the time we become so selfish in our running that we also forget about children and family. We walk away from the events of the lives of our close relatives with indifference, detached, blinded by the petty purposes of life. Running this way together, we lose together the beauty of the life of the runner. We pass by the fallen ones, besides those who abandon, besides the weary and helpless, with indifference; We pass by the disoriented, who do not know where to run. And our lives often distract them even more. We run ourselves, as if we were alone on the runway.
Some can no longer run into the race of life, because they are too burdened by many things. Running for many has turned into something else; They do not run, but they crawl. They were dressed inappropriately for the race; Try to carry with them as many as possible, forgetting that you can not take anything beyond the finish line with you. However, wrapped in sin, they claim to run, but they actually crawl inconsistently. The earnest drive for them has long since ceased, the goal of running has disappeared, and the reward no longer matters.
We threw ourselves forward, abandoning the rules of running. Since it's the race of our lives, since we're running for ourselves, we've decided to make our running rules. So we run on shortcuts, through places not allowed just to be in front. We run by relative rules and no use, forgetting that the rules of running were already made. The one who let us run in the race of life has already set the rules. Running in accordance with our rules is easier, but without any use.
Life is a run. A run in which we are glad to get away from the beginnings, but we are afraid to get close to the end; We run as hard as the future. We get ridiculous, and instead of claiming the prize for which we have run a lifetime, we also ask, if possible, for another moment of life. We are nostalgic and depressed when we take stock of the running. We regretfully regret missed startups and breathing moments we have not taken.
Life is a run. A desperate run at the highest speed from maternity to cemetery. A one-way running without any possibility of return. You strive to be the first in this race. But who gets first on the finish line is the winner ?! Or those who are late? Once he entered the race, he waved the rhythm. There are no delays or cheating. The Referee's watch timer does not delay or hurry. It accurately measures times, lives, and histories. And then he stops. Beyond the finish line is no longer counting, nothing is measured anymore. There everything is immeasurable.