12 March 2013
(True story)
Anticipation rising, Unlike the rain from the dark sky. Goosebumps prick when a wind blows- It's 20 but your coat's inside. So in a t-shirt you stand, Waiting for the signal to run. Feet are soaked, mud on your back, Then a yell- the trek has begun. Run, jog, sprint, whichever works, Just if you walk, you get another. You can't stop, no matter what, One foot in front of the other. Even though you can't feel your hands, Sweat starts beading on your forehead. Mixing with the pouring rain, This journey is full of dread. Spiked shoe lands in a puddle, Water sops through knee-high socks. Your shoe gets stuck in some mud, And pulls out some trailing rocks. Panting, cramping, why'd you come? Forever running, round and round. Turn a corner, the home stretch, But you forgot it's twice around. So run some more with heavy legs, Watch a friend fall on their knees. Hair whips in your watery eyes, With every freezing breeze. You see the line, you're almost there, Just about 50 more yards. You can't stop now, you've come so far, Keep going- you'll get regards. And... You cross the line! Fall to the ground and puke. You have frostbite on your fingers, But then you realize your bad fluke...
It's only 10 minutes into soccer practice.
(Okay, maybe I over-exagerated, but it sure felt like this!)
The Trek • Opuss № I