Day 9:
Yesterday, I participated in the Sectionals track meet with my team, and it ended up being the final meet for my season, as I didn’t qualify to continue on. I didn’t have as successful a season as I had hoped for, but I did my best. I’m looking forward to next year, when I will get another chance…three more, actually, as I’ll be running Cross-Country in the Fall, as well as Winter and Spring Track. In the meantime, I will train, and prepare, and daydream about how great my Senior year will be (sportswise).
The Track-Runner’s Daydream
One of these days
my stomach will leap
with excitement
rather than nervousness,
when the whistles sound.
My limbs will be loose
and confident like me,
the weather will be perfect
cool-warm-cloudy with the hint of a breeze.
The teeth of my spikes
will feel the crumbling rubber track,
I will smell the white-paint boundaries
of my lane,
and own it.
My body will angle
in a spectacular ‘set’,
my heart will stop so I am
perfectly still-
no DQ today-
though deep inside this starting-gate of a body
my soul quivers, anticipating,
like a Thoroughbred
hanging on the bit.
At the gunshot I will unfold,
exalting in my strength;
a machine of lean,
self-assured muscle and sinew,
hot energy at my core
and a cool head atop relaxed shoulders
as I find my stride
and obey the coach:
“Just stay with them!”
Clear the first hurdle and swift
to the next one,
nothing different than
any other time before…
except this time, in the final turn,
I’ll let go of the pain
and forget my cheese-grater gasping,
discipline my faltering legs,
force my lungs open,
and fly.
Off the corner like a shooting star
I’ll kickreachkickreach,
pump squared arms,
now that I’ve tasted a new record
and set my jaws in the victory
I won’t be letting go.
Meters will disappear behind me as I
sail the final obstacle
and stretch over the finish line;
my salvation,
my eden.
One of these days
I will look at that blessed clock,
raise my face and arms
to the sun,
fill my tortured lungs,
and rejoice.
(c) 2011 Marie KR
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