May be a little anomalous to you, to come to discern, that I run
for utterly no purpose, yet how I continue to prolong this
for weeks on end seems to riddle me as well.
Have you ever raced for a century? Well no maybe you haven’t,
but I certainly feel like I have: sprinting up the harsh pavement of an uphill-
mountain in the clear harsh brisk gusty day that just seems to shout: it’s going to be a dire and dismal day racing against petite girls of the same crude manner trying to strike you… well physiologically that is
So you elbow blindly into the arm of the girl next to you after hearing the triumphant
screams of your ‘teammates,’ through the sidelines while you pain, feeling the continuous aches and sores, unable to stop, yet unable to continue with your so called, ‘love,’ of the game
Which never seemed to subsist in your brain; that you never seemed to heed enough to try and fight off with thoughts loading your brain saying that you just don’t care.
Debating whether or not to slow down, the legs and arms of my shell start to slow down
mechanically, as if I’m being pulled in the opposite direction. Thoughts start to excess my head, with the thought of quitting, as I do run for no purpose; Quickly in large packs do these skeletal feeble girls pass me as I see the looks on their faces as if they’ve been in the biggest pain of their lives. ‘Why, this sport,’ I would ask myself.
Meanwhile, in the midst of thoughts regarding my interminable race, a small miniscule girl appears with a undersized cobalt ribbon in the elastic of her dirty stringy blonde hair, appears to want to overtake me.
Maybe just to show to me that she is better than I am, with her narrow eyes and paint
Smeared across her face like she’s some sort of canvas. Is she superior & does that make me inferior?
I examine her as her eyes crave attention and her legs appear as they’re gliding Through the clouds, her feet not touching the ground
Should I let her have this opening …do I just not care enough to let her surpass through?
Shaking my head as fortitude starts to fill my psyche, now with the lack of pessimism that once seemed to overflow it
My legs started to stomp, as my wits agreed allowing me to incessantly pump my arms
Over and over again as I begin to see the flagged finish line of the teammates of that same girl who is still trying to better me
But I don’t let her, running firmer and faster, with that complete energy that I had
never used; using it at this moment as it just seems to empty out of me quickly.


Nobody can get the best of me now.