date: Thursday, May 05, 2005 @ 9:25 pm
title: Champions..
My Dark Dilemma
Being the last is not an easy task.
Tough was the last,
but he ran at last.
To show that he had the last laugh,
He laughed with gust.
Hero or zero was not his task,
but was the cast's task.
Heroes inherit all the cheers,
but the zero hears nothing but jeers.
Zero with the mask,
muster his mark
and hit homerun.Am I a champion?
I guess so.
10 x 200m. Romanis.
1st heat Romanis representative. Last in raking.
I was the last runner, the last resort and the last to return.
The chipped metallic baton was fiercely approaching towards me.
I pulled up my shorts slightly, on the mark to dash off.
It's approaching.. approaching.. approaching and bull's eye!
I turned and was very much taken back by the red track.
There was no one. Not a soul.
Immense pressure was on me. Heart-wrecking scene.
A sportman's breakdown: To give up or to sprint...
A song poured in:
'I dun care what people would say, it's alright..
I'm running after You...'
"Jesus. I'm sprinting for you," I confessed.
I bowed down and focused on the white line.
I dashed. I'm running.. runnning.. running after You.
I'm weak. Undermined, I am.
3 interval breath is what I took, before hitting the finish line.
I did it.
I felt extensively weaken. Some brain cells died.
I lost my sense. I can't think.
I was brain locked. System shut down.
My heart stopped pumping.
My brain stopped functioning. I was dying.
My eyelids were heavy.
My vision was blurred. I was about to collapse.
A sense of peace brushed across my cheeks.
Death never felt so sweet.
I stretched my arms to embrace Death. I was in an illusion.
'Delusion death decays thee.'
"STAND UP!" a voice commanded me. "MOVE!"
The peaceful touch turned to an empowering impact.
I stood firmly and struggle to walk in proper steps.
One. Two. Three. Four. On the grass patch. I was revived.
I was again. Brought back alive and kicking.
Conscience. Alived.
I was back to where I left off.
Rooted myself back on the cold concrete grandstand.
Cold sweat. Boiling blood. Overutilisation joints. Shaky limps.
I could think. I could rationalize. I could contemplate. I could..
Compliments snapped me awake, I was responded dryly to them.
My first question: 'Was I any near the last runner?'
Replies were oddly different. I was utterly perplexed.
'Oh well.. who cares about the last runner.' I comforted myself.
Gradual Revelation.
The blind can see. The deaf can hear. The mute can speak.
I was evaluating the whole race. Analysis the my actions that
might contribute to the downfall. Contemplating in progress.
I stopped. For cynical, I foreseen.
Decided to turn my back on negativity.
"Why did we run when we could withdraw?" I muttered.
Believe.
We believe that we could make it to the last,
even thought the circumstance was definitely disadvantage to us.
I recalled the vision of my opponent's legs.
Their define muscule features on
their favourable location of the leg structure.
Either they were inborn or 'man-made'..
It was though inspecting racing horses..
one look at the muscule surface, you can imagine the fibers beneath.
Perfectly conditioned muscles
with perfect footwear - little speed demons.
I was right. Speed demon bloc ruled the racing dome with their terrorizing aura choking the weakling who was I. Demons who fed on their confidence to champ over others, was busily stretching their uptight joints and doing their last prays.
We, as well, said a small prayer. Clement was the intercessor.
The priest to confess our doubts and asking for empowerment.
Foolish, we might be seen.
But last resort still have it's effect, whether you notice it or not.
Last runner. Hero. Zero.
In the world of sports.
You are either a hero or a zero if you are the last.
That day.
The hero gains all the glory.
The zero unseen under the glory.
Soft and quiet, I was.
