competition

it started out so well. I was moving through the race, pushing forward the whole time. I knew I was running faster than usual, but somehow, I expected that today.

the girls from our rival school were all lined up in front of me. I was waiting. waiting to attack. waiting to win. waiting for that fateful moment when I could go.

two hundred meters left now. my kick should be starting. why do my legs feel so dead? how come I can't go any faster?

they are so close.

I can't do it.

swerving too far inside, I clip the rail. why can't I stop now? I'm dying. slowly. painfully.

the far-away clock tells me that I might not even get my goal time, much less run REALLY well. I drag myself into the finish, getting passed yet again and again.

so yes, I did run faster than I ever have. but no, I am not happy. I am not happy with the fact that I lost to those girls from that unnamed school. I feel like I played my best soccer game ever, but still lost!

and that's what competition is all about. I didn't just want to run a fast time. that wasn't what I went out on the track to do. I wanted to win today. I finally am competing again. and it feels good.