The Race

Breathless.  Every sinew feels like it is about to burst.  My chest is tight and my heart is pounding.  I want to give up and stop; I want to collapse and allow my body to crumple.  I can't though; I mustn't.  Failure because of fatigue is the mentality of a loser.  Collapsing because your body is screaming to stop is the mark of a person with no will and no endurance.  When your mind and body informs you that you can travel no further you must not believe the insipid lies.  There is always a bit more in you, there is always a reserve tank and you must not give up.

Failure.

It is the motivating word.  It drives you to smash such a word into smithereens and cast it into oblivion.  Failure does not exist and will never exist in my world.  If I fall down then I have given in and allowed the lies to creep in and stab me in the brain.  It won't happen - I am not a product of past failures and disappointments.

Breathless.  My body is screaming for me to stop and move to a place of rest.  I cannot rest I cannot stop.  I need to reach my goal before my body is too old and my mind too weak.  I have to push myself beyond everything I have ever known because in the blink of an eye and the click of a finger I will be sitting in a chair, staring out a window trying to remember who I am and what I achieved.  I will be that man who shares stories about what he once did and how good he once was.  I will be the man who shares the same stories again and again because he only has a handful of stories from things he did fifty years ago.  "When I was in...", "When I worked at...", "I once met..."

Forgotten.

It won't be me and it won't be a word that describes my life.  My gravestone will not be blank or contain a vague quote which may or may not refer to who I was.  So, I must keep running and I must keep pushing myself to the very edge.  Almost the edge of reason.

Breathless.  My mind is screaming to stop.  I am running against myself and I am competing against a phantom of failure.  The phantom glides into my consciousness telling me it won't be long until I can run no more and soon it will be over for me.  Got to keep running and got to reach that goal.

I look down and see.

I am running on the spot.  I am going nowhere.  I am only racing myself.  And who can win in such a race?