Pop.
Bandaged and bruised, ankle in a brace, I kick myself back into gear.
It was a nasty fall, and I didn't see it coming. My bad.
I brush myself off and keep running, because that's all I can do. I will run this race and I will run it for me, not for anyone else.
I make it past humans and obstacles, when I notice I've passed you. I slow down a bit, matching my pace to yours, as I smile. We stay like that for a bit, smiling, content to just be running side by side. My confidence is back and my pride is intact. Not a bad deal, I think, when I catch you glimpsing sideways, you throw me a glance that says so very much and yet explains nothing, a mere grimace, the kind that apologizes without actually admitting that you're wrong, as you pound ahead, gaining on me so quickly, leaving me in a cloud of the dust you kick up as you go. I slow to a light jog, regressing to a brisk walk, eventually coming to baby steps, tripping over a loose pebble and scuffing my nose in the dirt. Eyes brimming with tears, I brush of the clothes stained with humiliation and pain. Shocked and dazed, I still don't really comprehend what happened, only that it never should have.
That should not be allowed.
I pull myself up, but only manage to take small steps, trudging along the path.
"Are you okay?”
"Yeah, I'll be fine.”
Another has slowed, giving me a weak smile, asking that I run alongside. Sensing my rejection, he moves on to a power-walk, eager that I join him. Though it tempts me incredibly, I... can't. It's fear and frustration and feeling completely overwhelmed and a million other things, and I just can't. Before I start to cry, I motion to the distance, shaking my head, gesturing for him to just go. There's no point in waiting for me.
The race would be so much easier if no one pushed.
__________
"Racing is a matter of spirit not strength."
Janet Guthrie
__________
I'm considering posting this as a note on FB, because it's so delightfully cryptic. This metaphor popped into my mind at 1:30 this morning, and it came to me how incredibly it explains so many different things about me.
It was a nasty fall, and I didn't see it coming. My bad.
I brush myself off and keep running, because that's all I can do. I will run this race and I will run it for me, not for anyone else.
I make it past humans and obstacles, when I notice I've passed you. I slow down a bit, matching my pace to yours, as I smile. We stay like that for a bit, smiling, content to just be running side by side. My confidence is back and my pride is intact. Not a bad deal, I think, when I catch you glimpsing sideways, you throw me a glance that says so very much and yet explains nothing, a mere grimace, the kind that apologizes without actually admitting that you're wrong, as you pound ahead, gaining on me so quickly, leaving me in a cloud of the dust you kick up as you go. I slow to a light jog, regressing to a brisk walk, eventually coming to baby steps, tripping over a loose pebble and scuffing my nose in the dirt. Eyes brimming with tears, I brush of the clothes stained with humiliation and pain. Shocked and dazed, I still don't really comprehend what happened, only that it never should have.
That should not be allowed.
I pull myself up, but only manage to take small steps, trudging along the path.
"Are you okay?”
"Yeah, I'll be fine.”
Another has slowed, giving me a weak smile, asking that I run alongside. Sensing my rejection, he moves on to a power-walk, eager that I join him. Though it tempts me incredibly, I... can't. It's fear and frustration and feeling completely overwhelmed and a million other things, and I just can't. Before I start to cry, I motion to the distance, shaking my head, gesturing for him to just go. There's no point in waiting for me.
The race would be so much easier if no one pushed.
__________
"Racing is a matter of spirit not strength."
Janet Guthrie
__________
I'm considering posting this as a note on FB, because it's so delightfully cryptic. This metaphor popped into my mind at 1:30 this morning, and it came to me how incredibly it explains so many different things about me.