Race Day

She sank onto her bed exhausted.

Before that, she had stood up stiffly from the couch in the living room.

Before that, she had sat on the couch debating with herself whether she should get up or not.

Before that, she had rested with her legs up, reading a magazine.

Before that, she had dropped onto the couch, worn out.

Before that, she had driven home in the dark from the mountains, thinking about the day.

Before that, she had limped slowly to her car.

Before that, she had had a medal draped around her neck.

Before that, she had stumbled across the finish line.

Before that, she had used every last ounce of energy to sprint the final stretch.

Before that, her feet pounding on the ground, she wasn’t sure she would make it. No, she was sure she would make it, she had to. Sweat was dripping into her eyes, her legs had gone numb long ago.

Before that, she had felt her side cramp up and her legs begging her to slow down.

Before that, her pace had began to slow.

Before that, her feet had flown along the ground, passing people like a blur.

Before that, the gun had sounded and she was off.

Before that, she had stood tensely at the start line, ready to go.

Before that, she had lined up with all the other competitors.

Before that, she had walked over to the starting area, confident.

Before that, she had stretched out her muscles in preparation.

Before that, she had driven to the course.

Before that, she had carefully packed her bag with her jacket, hat, gels and electrolytes.

Before that, she had been awoken by her alarm clock beeping, far too early.

Before that, the sun had risen like any other day.