The last mile is always the hardest.
I'm soaked from the rain. My tires spit with every spin, speckling my face with mud.
I turn right on 43rd, and start pedalling up the hill.
And it gets steeper. Steeper than I like. Cranks groan with every push, and so do my knees. I'm tired.
This morning's ride wasn't like this. It was easy. Fast. Effortless. Coasting down the hill like a king; ready to command and conquer.
But now I'm just a man on stupid bike getting passed by cars.
There's no momentum going up this damned hill. No coasting. With every thrust the incline gets steeper. Harder and harder.
I could stop.
That's a scary thought. I could just pull over, and rest. But if I sit, I don't get home. Home's my goal. That's why I'm pushing up this hill. I want to get home tonight.
The dark is my deadline. I don't want to be out here pedalling after the sun goes down. The deadline drives me forward.
It feels like eternity. But I finally get to my turn. Porch light's on.
I climbed that hill. It feels good now. I'm home.
Almost every project is enthralling at the beginning, and a grind at the end.
The last mile is the hardest, but it's also the most important. It's where you finish. Wrap it up. Ship it.
I always forget how important deadlines are. When I bike home from my office, my deadline is to be home before supper. It keeps me on track: no side streets or diversions - I've got to get home.
Projects need deadlines. When you don't have a deadline it's like riding around aimlessly; you're covering distance but not getting anywhere.
Set a deadline. Point yourself up that hill. Travel that last mile. It's a grind, but you can do it.
It's the hardest part, but home is calling your name.
Cheers,
Justin Jackson
@mijustin
PS: I'm launching the book I've been writing on October 15th.