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08-28-2007, 08:29 AM
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| Gunzfactorian Guardian |  Limitations Stuck in the common void between first and third, I found myself following right behind another person. I was so use to it, you know, always coming in second, receiving a silver medal instead of gold, being so close to breaking the finish line, getting half as much praise as I would get if I was first. Constantly coming in second place didn’t actually sound that bad. After all, it did mean I was the second best sprinter out of all the other runners in the county. Although it would seem I would be lacking behind mister number one with my typical ‘two meter fall behind’, something about today seemed different. I was only a leg reach distance from being first. But even noticing this, it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference. I had reached my limit, and I could foretell what would happen next; I would walk off the track field with my silver medal up to my coach. He would then approach me, his hand would reach for the coin that hung around my neck and he would say, “at least you tried your best” with a slight sigh and slowly walk away. I thought it was the best just to not even try. In the end it would hurt more believing I could win rather then seeing a golden medal swing past my face. But you know that feeling right? That small spark of guilt that hits you whenever you think crap like that. And suddenly I remembered, everyday I rushed out the front door while I caught the back pack my dad threw at me; like any good dad, he always just told me to do my best. I only knew until now, that even reaching my limit wasn’t my best. It was breaking the limit that was. I felt my heart skip a beat as I busted my chest forward as I approached the finish line. I didn’t look to my side to see if anyone was near me, but only forward towards that thin strip of red, flexed and set in the right position for someone to snap. I extended my legs longer then ever, I swung my arms faster then any race I ran. I could see the line right infront of me; I closed my eyes and shot one arm forward. I fell over, past the finish line, I knew I had finished the race, but I didn’t know if I had finished first. As applause boomed around me, all I knew that mattered today was that I knew I did my best. __________________________________________________ _______________ Quick count of # of times word 'I' was used: 33  Last edited by Sigh; 09-10-2007 at 03:14 AM. |
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