Mental Preparation

Can you feel that? Those are your veins pulsing and the blood pounding in your ears. And that thud in your chest? It's your heart pounding, infused with adrenaline and threatening to burst from your chest cavity. Your breath is long and calm and stready, not like the other girls surrounding you at the starting line. They are nervous, unprepared.

But you? Not you. You were born ready. You wake up every morning and you piss greatness. The rest of those running wear tags, just so they can be identified at the morgue.

The gun doesn't startle you; the racing adrenaline in your system does. Your feet hit the ground and return to open space, again and again, silent and steady like your breath. You pass a girl wheezing. You pity her, but for a split second. And in the blink of an eye, you pass her, showing no mercy.

Approaching Cardiac Hill, you barely break a sweat. What is there to be afraid of? It hardly makes a dent, in comparison to PineTop and Goat Hill. In fact, they should consider changing its name, for risk of being sued for misleading information. You power up the hill, strong legs, strong and quick arms, powerful breathing, secretly laughing in the face of the others who struggle for what is such a simple task for you.

One mile down. Two miles gone. 800 meters pass. 400 meters to go. Those bright colored flags? The equivalent of an oasis in a desert. But this is no mirage or hallucination. The girl you've been pacing with begins to pick it up. You do too, but with more determination. You pick it up more, passing her, all the while pretending to wheeze. It's just a mind fuck, really. She attempts to take advantage of what she believes to be an easy pass. She is wrong. And she realizes it right away.

You take her out, leaving her and several others behind, wheezing and choking on the dust you've kicked up, as you race toward victory and destiny.