When I was learning how to play baseball in little league, we had a small rule. If you get a hit or bunt, you run to first base. You run your little heart out. And you dig in without thought of heading to second, you just run to first as full out as your little pre-pubescent legs can carry you. And you tag first base, always. Always. Always.
If your fly ball is caught, you tag first base. If it's a foul ball, you tag first base. If you're thrown out at the plate, you tag first base. If you're tagged out on the way, you tag first base. If you trip on those still growing legs that make you run like a drunken baby-giraffe, roll in the dirt, are unable to gain your footing before the next 8 innings go by, you tag first base.
For those of you writing for NaNoWriMo, this is an object lesson. If you're behind, keep running for first base. If you're ahead, keep running for first base. If you've already finished your 90,000 opus (40,000 words over the NaNoWriMo goal) you keep running for first base. First base is November 31st, and, baby, you better keep running to first base.
That's the lesson NaNoWriMo teaches.
You only lose when you stop running (and that's the lesson I need to relearn).