John loved running. He was just a high school guy but running was his passion. Every day after school, practice would be waiting for him and that never changed. No matter what else changed, running was a constant that never left his side. Each day as the school day winded down, with every period that passed, he’d find himself counting the hours, then the minutes, until practice began. Then when the bell rang after the last period, John would grab his gear from his locker with a smile on his face and he’d join his team.
Practice was always something that he loved. It might have been a long relaxing run where the team visited somewhere fun. They could have gone somewhere that had quick food or somewhere with a great view. They could have gone somewhere historic like Buckingham fountain or Soldier Field. No matter where they went, they always took the most creative and unnecessary roads and discovered the best corners and crevices of the city.
If it wasn’t a long run, then practice would be a workout, which wasn’t always a bad thing. Sure, it hurt, but this was why practice was called practice. John could push himself during a workout and he would have the option to keep pushing or to maintain or slow down, just like during a race. A runner gets to practice racing in workouts. However besides from the experience, there are so many more rewards. There is always the best water anyone has ever tasted right after a hard workout. In case that best water anyone has ever tasted isn’t good enough, there is sweeter than a spoonful of sugar Gatorade alongside thick and gooier than 18th century soup protein shakes. All of this could have been enjoyed on a comfortable table with a snack or two and a few ice bags in aching spots, but only after a workout.
John knew what the purpose of practice was. He knew that it was to get him prepared for his big day. And when his big day finally came around, he was losing his mind. It had been months of practice up to this point and just a few minutes of running would determine whether or not it was all a success or a failure. He knew that he had to make those few minutes count so he prepared days in advance. He drank tons of water and didn’t eat anything too unhealthy. He tried to get plenty of sleep and ate a few plates of pasta the day before the race. Now that race day was here, there was nothing left to do but run.
John warmed up as he’d done a thousand times before and put his racing spikes on. His name was called and he jogged over to the start line. Everything was set and everyone was quiet for the start. Then the official shot the gun and everyone went pouring out. John tried to get to the front and hold on. He stayed in his lane until the first curve then when he was able to cut into the first and best lane. He looked around a second and, surveying the competition, he saw that there was a small group already in the first lane and he integrated in. The pace didn’t seem to be slowing but that was fine with him.
The group, now dwindled to three people, had finished the first lap and John had managed to hold on. He kept staring at the back of the jersey of the first guy and didn’t lost sight. Halfway through the second lap, he saw that the other two guys were starting to speed up. There’s the move, he thought. At that moment, he had to decide whether or not he would dig deep into himself to find something worth running for, or if he’d just maintain this pace through the finish. He peeked behind himself quickly and saw that no one else was nearby.
John chose to go with the group and he pushed until the very end. As he crossed the finish line, he knew that he’d given it his all. He almost fell over but managed to shake his competitors’ hands as he walked away. He went back to camp and fell over. Today had been a success. The months of hard work had been worth it. John smiled.
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