the crowd is lined with the race track
kids watching from the seats of their high swings
the commentator off her chair
the air is heavy with aspirations and excitement
“COME ON SHREYA”, I shout to my friend who is fast approaching me. I’m the last runner in the relay race. It’s an All India Championship. The hopes and dreams of my entire school sports fraternity rest with me. I’m worried sick of dropping the baton and getting disqualified. “Focus Prachi, focus”, I hear me talking to myself. And there she is!
Grabbing the baton, I hold on to it extremely tight, as if drawing energy from it. As I take the first few steps, the wind rushes to my ears and whispers, “This is what you’ve been working so hard for. Go get it. Live your dream.”
The ground is disappearing beneath me super quick! I’m running at a speed I didn’t think I was capable of
Inching closer to the finish line every nanosecond
Closer
Closer
I pass the crowd
Closer
Closer
I pass the Commentary Box
Closer still
I’m in the final stretch of 60m now. The crowd is going crazy! “Bhaaaaaag Prachi” is reverberating in the air. I can almost breathe the enthusiasm and tension in the ground. The others far 100m behind me! I’m tempted to look at the back and assure my win. But I can’t. I have to focus.
I’m only 15m away from the finish line, I am telling my legs, “Keep going, don’t stop”. My mind is playing images of me getting the winning medal already.
Closer
Closer
I can see my coach. He’s standing at the finish line. His toothy grin, in full view.
Closer
Closer
And THUD! Face on the ground.
Excruciating pain courses through my body as if piercing my being from all angles. And before I know it, from the ‘to be crowned gold winner’ and the ‘fastest athlete in my school’, I’m a mound of sweat, tears and blood. It’s all over. I mentally shout at myself to stand up, the others are far behind. Testing moments pass and I’m hit by someone’s spike shoe and I go down again. I hide my tear stricken face in the grass, unable to look up! I’ve shattered everyone’s dreams and hopes in me. I’ve lost the race. I feel numb and wasted.
The crowd is still shouting “Get up Prachi, come on!”
What are they asking for? It’s over. I have lost the race. My team is also disappointed in me. Why should I get up? WHAT’S LEFT OF THIS RACE??!!
And then it struck me, they are asking me to complete the race!
I try to pull myself up thrice but fall back down again. I want to look at them and convey that I can’t do it. But I try for the fourth time, and finally manage to get up. Dripping blood all the way to the finish line, I mark the ground with my undying spirit. The crowd is roaring with thunderous applause!
My coach isn’t talking to me. Everyone is congratulating me and hugging me and telling me it’s all okay. I want to silence them that it’s not! But I’ve lost my voice.
Life throws challenges at you that you WILL lose. And it throws bigger challenges, yet again! More important than winning is completing it to the best of your ability. Not because someone is watching you, but because you don’t want to live in regret for the rest of your life. Falling down in our own eyes is the worst feeling EVER.
After medical care, my coach comes and tells me,” Zonals are tomorrow. Be prepared.”
Are you kidding me? Did he not hear the doctor say she can’t run for some weeks now?
What do I do?
#Want to know what happened next? Read The Race Track #2. Stay Tuned.
