It's Five Flat.

My alarm goes off
It's five flat.
I mean five o'clock.

I hobble to the window, 
It's five flat.
I mean five steps.

I grab my papers,
It's five flat.
I mean five pages.

I want to grab my jersey, my shorts, and lucky socks.
But I can't.

So I grab a hoodie, my jeans, and extra long pair of socks. 
Nobody needs to see my foot.
Put it on, grab a granola bar, head out the door.

Stuff my papers, mask, watch, pen, and granola bar into my pocket.
It's five flat.
I mean five things.

Shuffle to my bike. 
Ride down the hill.

Past the course, past Agony hill. 
Past races in the rain, sun, and wind.
Past summer runs with my best friend.
Past hill repeats with my coach. 
Past chasing rabbits with my dog.
It's five flat.
I mean five memories.

Stop at the track. 
Put on my mask. 
Wave to friends.
Smile. 

Even though I'm going to cry.

I want to run. 

Watch them smile.
Watch them laugh.

They're not going to cry.

I'm not going to run.

The doctor won't let me.
It's five flat.
I mean five months.

Time my teamates.
Watch them run.
Watch them high-five eachother.
Great race, they say. 

Watch my enemy.
Watch her run.
Time her mile.
It's four fifty- nine

Nobody looks at me. 
They know. 
She beat my time.
I was going to beat five flat.

And now I think I'll never run again.

High school, next year.
I'm going to be the freshman who can't run. 
I'm going to be the freshman who couldn't race the last race of the season.
I'm going to be the broken girl.