The Thrill of the Race

Spell Used: Prior Incantato

Don't you love going through old documents on your computer? Honestly, things I wrote in third grade are still on my zip drive, haha. Gotta' love reading "papers" you wrote when you were eight!

This poems was for a 9th grade English project. Personally, I think it is very good considering how naive a writer I was three years ago. (And I am still a naive writer, don't misunderstand!)

Anyway, I hope you are amazed by it as much as I was about ten minutes ago!

The Thrill of the Race

I celebrate myself in the hardest moments of my life.
When my heart is racing and my legs are pulsing.
My body concave with physical fatigue,
But I will not surrender, not today, nor ever.
This is a mental game,
Not a physical one.
The run holds the thrill of the chase,
Or rather, the thrill of the race.

Before the animals are released, everyone is still.
The air around us is frozen,
And laden with tension.
No one dares to speak a word.
The Man raises his arm, and with the flex of his finger,
He sends us off onto our own mental battle.

Everyone starts strong,
Tall and proud, with a long lanky stride.
However, this does not last forever.
Slopes become mountains,
And feet become miles.

There comes a point in the race when I find myself asking,
“Why am I not stopping?”
My legs are screaming and my breath is ragged, but I know,
This is a mental game,
Not a physical one.

The hardest part of the race is when the finish line comes in sight.
Digging deep and using the last shreds of energy,
I propel myself this one last time.
I want to regret nothing when I am done,
So my legs turn even faster.
A feeling is then produced,
And it screams at me to stop.
Walking becomes enticing, but I know,
I am almost done- I have almost won.

I will enjoy the last thrill of the race.


*If you didn't figure it out, I was referring to a cross country race throughout the poem.