Not About Running
The moment is almost upon me.
I have waited for weeks and been preparing all of my life for this moment. I slap my legs and jog in place. My breath is clearly visible in the crisp morning air, and I shake my legs to keep them warm and loosen them up. I walk in a small circle. My mind is racing. I breath deeply and try to focus on the race before me. The group before me has just started off with a bang. I watch them flying off, and my quads tremble in anticipation. I walk up to the start line, bend down, and carefully set my feet in the blocks. I turn my head towards the mn with the gun, raised high above his head one finger in his ear. He shuts his eyes, my muscles tense, a collective sharp intake of breath. His finger slowly contracts, I feel it, releasing the invisible bonds which hold me, my mind blanks. Smoke. Then a sound to follow us, already gone, speeding into the mist of the unknown. Free.
