
Lower left, 2537. The arm warmers come off one by one as the sun comes up to be used as sweat rags. LA Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon, where I met my new PR (1:48:08).
I get grief about comparing basically everything to running, but it’s a handy metaphor. Don’t stop, push through the pain, it will hurt but it’s okay. And unlike other things in life, if you put in the work, you get results. Unlike things like, say, TV/film projects that need green lights or manuscripts that need approval from editorial boards. If you work in a creative field, you know that sometimes you can work your face off and not get anywhere.
(I’m still in a holding pattern on the book submission, in a holding pattern on another project that might be moving into development shortly, finishing up a feature thriller script I kind of wrote on a dare, which may move me into yet another holding pattern. Waiting for yeses, collecting nos.)
So it’s incredibly satisfying to train for something and on race day grind your way through miles 11 and 12 because even though you’d prefer to slow down to a more comfortable pace, you’re looking at your watch, running the numbers and realizing you’re on track for your goal as long as you don’t stop, push through, tell yourself it will be okay.
And when you write a book - don’t stop, push through, it will be okay.
And when you write a spec script - don’t stop, push through, it will be okay.
And when you are rejected - don’t stop, push through, it will be okay.
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