Watching from the Shadows

I often wonder why I sit out in the cold of night watching the coaches train. It’s not especially comfortable, and there is nothing required of me there. Still, I return night after night.

There are a few reasons.
First, I like seeing what is possible — not as a fantasy, but as something real and earned. Second, even though their movement appears effortless, almost gifted, the truth is obvious if you look long enough: the ease is the result of years spent making the hard feel ordinary and the impossible feel familiar. And third — the part that matters most to me — they are still students. Still training. Still refining. Still showing up.

So it has become a quiet ritual. I sit back in the shadows, saying nothing, learning what I can from those who are further along the same road. There is no envy in it, no urgency. Just attention.

I don’t believe I will ever be exactly like them. But I don’t dismiss the idea either. This place has taught me that outcomes are rarely fixed, and progress belongs to those who keep returning.

If this journey has offered me one constant reminder, it’s this: show up. Stay humble. Make mistakes openly. Accept guidance. And keep moving toward the thing that made you begin — even when the path feels long, cold, and quiet.

That, at least, I can do.