Hold the Line

There’s a moment in Braveheart that stays with me. The English cavalry is charging. Horses pounding. Chaos incoming. Wallace doesn’t flinch. He yells one word:
“HOLD!”

Again.

“HOLD!”

Not because they’re safe. Not because they’re ready. But because timing is everything. That’s where I am right now. Peptide phase? Done. No Applause shoot? Captured. Business? About to launch. Mark and I? On the runway.

And yet… I wait.

Not out of fear. Not out of laziness. But because there’s a pulse to all this. And this lull? This Hold phase? It’s where you sharpen the axe. It’s the nervous system reset. The sleep dial-in. The deep breath before the next sprint.

I train. I rest. I write.
I prep the systems.
I nourish the body.
I hold the line.

Because I know what’s coming. And when it hits — when the cavalry’s in sight — I’ll be ready.

HOLD!

Until the moment makes itself known… then strike.

Even in stillness.