I try so hard, I forget to breathe,
heart racing and lungs on fire,
but in some odd way,
I embrace this physical pain,
because it helps me forget,
even if only for a while.

No one gets it, that much I know,
after all, I’m all alone in this race,
here’s my track,
and here’s my number,
and here I am competing,
against no one but myself,
struggling every single mile,
just to beat my own time and pace.

It’s never good enough –
I’m not good enough,
I need to push harder,
run faster, go further,
jump all the hurdles.

So what if my legs ache?
Or my body trembles?
I’ve been trained to accept,
this is how it is,
how it always will be,
and no matter what,
I simply must -
I must keep going.

Everything around me, one dizzy blur,
it comes and then goes,
just as fast,
I have no time to spare,
for the miles just keep getting longer,
while I just keep getting further…
and further…
and further…
behind.

If only I could stop and rest –
but no, it will cost me far too much –
so I just push on,
keep on keeping on,
through sweat and blood,
and salty tears,
heading in this direction and that.
It doesn’t matter much where I go,
as long as it’s forward,
never back.

I’m hungry and thirsty,
and oh so very tired,
but I can’t stop,
won’t stop,
just keep saying to myself,
“You can get through this mile.”

It’s always hard,
sometimes too hard,
not that it matters much at all.
I have no choice but to run,
nowhere else to be,
except on this track,
and all I can do,
is keep on running,
until someday
I finally reach the end.

The hardest part,
is not the aches or pains,
not the cramping or falling,
or buckling knees.
No – I tell you,
it’s finding the will,
when my mind,
is just as worn as my body,
to continue running further,
even though all I do, it seems,
is pass the same mile,
over and over and over again.