I think I’ll join the 2016 Olympic team in Rio de Janeiro.
There are a few reasons for this:
1. I’ve had dreams of being an Olympian for a long time – stifled with reality as of late – so it’s time to realize those.
2. Who doesn’t want to go to Brazil? Really.
3. I even have a sport.
I walk fast. Thus, I will train and join the race walking team. I even did a little research during the summer Olympics: they walk 12 miles.
I really do walk fast. I can cross campus in about 3 minutes flat. If I’m really booking it, maybe less. I pass people on the sidewalk frequently, making a point to not be snotty about it and smiled graciously. I try to not send the message that they are too slow or in my way.
They’re not. I’ve just got places to be. I guess you could say that when I’m walking to class, I’m less interested in the journey than the destination. It’s different when I’m walking around the lake looking at the fall colors or moseying downtown. If I’m walking around my neighborhood here alone, I definitely walk fast.
Part of this is long legs, part of it is just really not seeing much point in taking forever to get somewhere. It’s definitely a sign of some internal desire to not have to wait, to determine my own path, to just get where I’m going.
This is why I don’t like waiting on God. When I’m in transition, I’m always praying things like okay, God, whenever you’re ready to tell me what’s next or what I should be headed towards, that would be great. I love to plan ahead and scoot right over to where I am going. I’m not really interested in the long, drawn-out process that will get me there… Oh, that’s part of the point? It is? Am I supposed to like waiting? Because I don’t. I know you have good stuff ahead… and that’s why I want to get there. I’m willing to be obedient… but can we just walk a little faster? Can we arrive?
The best part about a plane trip is not – to me – the takeoff that initiates the travel, the beverage service, the in-flight movies, or the announcement that we are at cruising altitude so everyone is allowed to finally use the bathroom (even though that is often a welcome announcement). It’s the part where the captain says to the flight attendants, “Prepare for landing.” Then when you get close to your destination and look out the window at the city glimmering in the dark (because that’s the best time to land) and you feel the landing gear come down on the bottom of the plane. And you hold your breath as you wait for the bump that means that you’re on the ground, at last.
I like to arrive. I’m sure that needs to change.