The Race Track #2

As I limped home, my mind was in constant battle. I couldn’t fathom what had just happened to me. From being oh so determined moments ago, now I was feeling tired and spent.

Should I run? No wait. COULD I run? Why was I even being asked? Is it not evident enough that I can’t run? It’s weird how one moment has the power to make us doubt years of our hard work, don’t you think?

My parents clearly felt my coach had lost his mind. Sometimes, people who are the closest to you also fail to make sense of your actions. Even though they know you well enough, their concern overpowers their understanding of your passion.

But, I had made up my mind. I will run again tomorrow. So, they gave in, knowing how distraught I was. When I reached the venue I was told that even though I was eligible for “Under 16 category”, I was being made to run for “Under 18”, with injured knees, calves and elbows! “WOW, you’re totally winning this!” said my sarcastic female ego. And so after lots of “Let me say no moments”, I finally took position as the final runner (yet again).

(Little background: Zonals are brutal.)

I was so used to being cheered while running that when I got booed the moment I started taking a step forward to receive the baton, I couldn’t bear it.

Was I making a joke of myself by doing this? Couldn’t I just rest and come back feeling fitter and make my mark then?

I admit, I was too self absorbed to do that. So I ran, knowing full well that I was being utterly careless.

The images of the last day’s race moving as a slideshow in my head. I lost myself in a trance.

What is happening to me? Has the crowd gone mute? Why can’t I hear anything?

It hurt to bend my knees. I couldn’t run properly. I had to speed up. Not for my coach, or the people, or the medal, or the recognition, whatever! I had to run for my own self. I had to redeem my broken confidence, my shattered trust in my ability as an athlete.

And so, closing my eyes to bear the brunt of the pain, I tried to run normally. I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn’t feel any pain. I couldn’t hear any voice. I couldn’t focus on anything but that finish line!

Something was constantly tugging at my feet and I felt as if I’d lose my balance. And then I realized my bandages had gone lose and they were unwrapping themselves. (Yes, I have lived my Farhan Akhtar, Bhaag Milkha Bhaag moment)

Should I stop? NO!

I felt so drugged with determination that I did not realize when I overtook everybody. I just faintly remember falling into someone’s arms at the finish line. Long after I realized that I had actually won the race! As the victory delight registered, so did the unbearable pain. But this time it couldn’t overpower me.

I didn’t break the National record like Milkha Singh did, but I did break the zonal record and qualified for the Best Athlete Award. I don’t know what emotions I went through. I don’t know if they were tears of joy, or disbelief or the pain. I just remember sleeping with new found respect for my own self that night.

I haven’t written this post to boast about my achievement. I have written this to share with you all that this failure was necessary for me to break through my own limitation. I’m just as ordinary. If I can, anyone can. It comes down to your will.

Roger Federer puts it best! Losses make you stronger.

Life isn’t about days or years. It’s about moments. One moment can change everything.

So,

Be a warrior in your battleground.

Be the protagonist in your own story.

Each life has the power to inspire many others! So, shake off that blanket of underestimating your potential and go all out to make your dreams a reality!