| A MULE�S CARROT You only cross the finish line, when you never cross it at all. To break that yellow-banner victory, is when you hit the wall. Every step in this marathon life is another breath of clean, crisp throbbing. You will find the misery of realized dreams the winner�s circle where the champions are hobbling. Up heartbreak hill, down lover�s embankment, the running of the course awards its own prize. Resting on your laurels leaves you only with �done�, not �he who still tries�. Excavate from yourself your inner slacker and march forward, or crawl, or swim faster. Just let there be no doubt that in the challenge of life, those who stop moving will be left out. |