A cold winter night where most people are in the comfort of their homes, and here we are, 50 people under the bright lights of the stadium, lining up on the rubber track to run 400 repeats. Under the coach’s direction, we take off in several heats, grouped by our speed. I am waiting for my group to be called. The voices around me are discussing what time we should complete one lap in. Don’t go out too fast. We have to do 8 of these. Take it easy on the first lap…
Team Runyon, Go! And off we go and I am looking straight ahead and my legs underneath me finding a rhythm, my arms pumping, I can hear my breathing. I feel like a race horse, looking for my stride, my comfort. This incredible surge of adrenaline and power rushing through me. I round the second turn and I feel a burst, as I control my speed all the way to the finish.
What a rush! 7 more times, I think. Between runs, everyone talking, comparing times. I just try to keep my focus. I have set the bar high for myself and I am going to rise to the challenge. Just an hour ago, I was Mom, cooking dinner, barking out orders, making arrangements for my absence. But, now, I am a runner. In my tights, my hat and gloves, racing against myself to tap into my inner speed demon.
And, behold, I do not disappoint myself. The last lap was happening before I knew what hit me. I was racing, legs turning, arms pumping, breath heavy, giving 100% to the moment.
And tomorrow my legs will be sore. I will savor the memory of those fleeting moments when I felt so strong, so fast and so in control.
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