HURDLE

The pistol echoes around the circle of spectators following a commanding READY, SET! Lean bodies lunge forward in a concentrated, well-planned stride. As their speed approaches sonic the first obstacle appears. An L-shaped hurdle with a brightly colored bar. The athlete leaps forward like a gazelle, the only hint to the bar is the wind he creates. As he begins his decent the last part of him to glide over caresses the hurdle and it falls as if in slow motion. It strikes the ground with barely a sound, but he knows he has failed.

         Like the athlete, my stride is often complicated by the nuisance of the proverbial hurdle. Although there is no time to train for these events, they materialize with little warning or clue. From such a low starting point, the jump seems futile. Even if I attempted it, not only would the hurdle be toppled, but I would be wounded in the venture. It’s not like the hurdles are placed in an orderly fashion where one could plan the next jump. They are random and of different heights and weights. Only if you strengthen yourself through past experiences can you make the jump. Anticipation of the next one can be a deadly strategy, setting yourself up for failure through worry and a defeatest stance.

         Each catch of the foot or banging of the shin leaves a bruise or abrasion of learning. The hurdles will continue to form on the track of infinitum which is life. Ready, set…