Last run

I promised myself not to focus on the marathon anymore, and yet the last thing I write this year will be about running — just not mine.

A 21-year-old student who, like many of us, was running toward the finish line. He never reached it. After spending several days in a coma, he died in the hospital.

On the morning before the news arrived, I was still busy with fundraising initiatives. I even published a small game on LinkedIn to attract new donors.

“Keep the runner moving before the Utrecht sun turns him into a puddle somewhere around kilometer 32. ☀️🏃”

It seemed funny at the time. A few hours later, the fun part was gone.

I never knew him or met him. And yet I felt as if I had lost somebody close.

I ran the same course. I probably even passed the ambulance that arrived to help him. I definitely shared the same motivation: to cross the finish line.

Over the past few days I have found myself thinking that perhaps the finish line is not where the real value lies.

Maybe it is in the people who wait for us along the route. Maybe it is in the strangers who hand out cups of water. Maybe it is in the volunteers standing for hours in the sun. Maybe it is in the family, friends, neighbours, colleagues, and complete strangers who quietly help us move forward.

Thank you. See you next year.