A Race

Crack!
The start
is always the worst
the gun goes off
and everyone
is in one big herd
stampeding 
toward the woods
and you have no choice
but to run
When you reach 
the shade of the woods
the herd separates
as each individual
starts to choose
their pace
Occasionally
the herd thins
so much
that you end up
alone
on the course
and you wonder
if you are still going
the right direction
but you see
a splotch of blue
another runner
far ahead
and you know
that you aren't lost
The miles
either fly by
or feel 
like an eternity
but when you hear
the screaming
of the finish line hoard
you know
the end is near
and you need
to give it your all
Every fiber 
of your body
pushes you onward
across the line
and you stop
and wobble
and breathe
You feel weak
but you survived
and you are overwhelmed
by pride