The Sublime Start Line
Listen: The Sublime Startline
Sunrise at eye level casting an orange yellow glow over a crisp but drowsy landscape slowly waking to a new day. A low murmur of voices mixed together, blending nervousness and excitement into an invisible but permeable tension. Bodies bouncing, quieting warm muscles vibrating, like a dog tugging at the end of a leash. Heat rising from the crowd of people, making small talk, releasing nervous energy into the atmosphere. Eyes darting. A road lies ahead…. wanting, yet daunting.
There is a lot of emotion at stake on a start line. The feelings we bring. The sensory experience of being in a crowd. Mother Nature, kind or merciless. All those people in one place, buzzing, creating this ball of energy vibrating through each of us. The loud music and nervous laughter. The cool air or stifling heat. The rising sun in our eyes or rain drops plinking off our heads. It’s a sacred place, the start line. A place like no other that we toil for months to be present at. To taste.
What colour aura would surround us? How much energy is compressed and contained in this tight packed crowd of jumpy, anxious athletes? Our cells all connected in that moment. One large mass of energy. The gun goes off dispersing the tension and driving the hive forward.
This beautiful orchestra of colour, sound and sensation is the poetry of a race start line. Is there anything else like it? I live for these moments. This massive ball of energy, filled with molecules of pain, elation, yearning, dreams, doubts, hard days, triumphant moments… emptiness, fulfillment.
The start line is one of my favourite places on earth. The recent Boston Marathon ignited this imagery in my mind and has reminded me about the moments that await me as another race season approaches. I often visualize my start and finish lines. They are so intense and yet so fleeting. The taste is so rich but does not linger on the palette. It is there, so powerful in the moment, then as suddenly it is gone.
With a single foot fall everything culminates in its beginning and its end. Across the finish line we have etched the outcome in our growth like rings of a tree trunk. We are becoming. At the finish line, defeated or triumphant, we carve another groove. Deepening self. Redefining the sum of all our parts each time.
When the final footfall is the mark of tremendous stride, we take away what we have accomplished, never can it be misplaced, stolen or erased. If it’s an achievement you doubted a thousand time, or aspired to for sooo long, the feeling is almost unmatched. With every fibre in your body you feel both relief, euphoria, peace … knowing you’ve done something that can never be undone. That is yours for the rest of your life. That will always be there.
If the final footfall is a stumble, it can be a cathartic call to reach higher, to believe harder, to absorb the process deeper. Or it can bring our priorities into granular focus. A teaching of what matters most, where true joy comes from. The doing, the caring, the simple joy of feeling alive.
It’s these irreplaceable emotional and sensory experiences that keep me coming back. Will I ever stop working to get back to those lines, to reliving those precious moments that fade away too quickly … like sunsets? It’s a taste I will always crave and a feeling I have found no replacement for. Each line is like a newborn baby, a rebirth. A new body, a new goal, a new expectation, a new learning. A new me, each time
Take the time to sit back and sink into the memory of those moments. Conjure it up often. Visualize it for the next one.
And if you’ve never experienced it, start now.