it's just a short story.

My arms and legs are heavy. Burning as if the bones themselves are on fine.
I love it.
The cry for rest from my lungs goes unheard.
I am invincible. Unstoppable.
Running.

In 7th grade I joined track. I don't remember my reasoning behind joining, if there was any, but within a week I cursed it.

Running hated me, and the feeling was mutual. I would stand at practice with Nike's laced tight, and a t-shirt hanging on me like a garbage bag. My only hope was for survival while I waited for the torture that is exercise.

At my first track meet my coach encouraged me to fun the mile. After a lot of stalling I came to the conclusion, running around the track 4 times wouldn't be that bad.

By the second time around I wanted someone to shoot me just to put me out of my misery. The only reason I kept running was because everyone was cheering for me with more excitement than I thought possible.
It wasn't until after the race, I found out they all thought I was in first instead of dead last. That's how far behind I was.

Returning home, humiliated, I declared running "man's stupidest idea yet." I promised I would never run again unless it was completely necessary for my survival.

The next day I went to practice.

The junior high team practiced at the high school's track with the high school team. I still called them big kids on occasion. A habit from childhood, that proved my own immaturity. Instead of practicing with my team I watched them. I would hide out in the locker rooms, watching them wizz by.

They ran like the wind, or at least to me they did. They pushed themselves to the very limit or their potential.

It wasn't impressive.
I thought they were stupid. When they started running I say pointlessness, and when they finished, pain. They gained nothing, yet gave everything.

There was no decisive turning point. I never sat down, and said I wanted to be like those high schoolers; however, at some moment I realized running is about challenging yourself. Their only motivation being themselves.

Now when I saw them start running I saw courage, and when they finished a conquerer.

That is what I wanted to be.

I was the slowest on the team with the most determination. Pain now marked growth. The very meaning of the word changed.

I knelt down to tighten the laces or my now worn Nike's. Many miles maked on the bottoms of them. Then I take off. My eyes set on the distance. A new goal, and only myself to push me there.