I Don’t Like To Run

I’ve never liked to run, but when something’s coming for you there’s no other choice. I started running in middle school and I haven’t stopped until now. Because what I was running from caught me, and now I have to face it. I’ve tried to stop before and it was the scariest time in my life, and when I could run again, I ran faster than I ever had before. I’ve seen everyone else running the race I was meant to run; I’ve heard the gun go off and stood still. When the gun went off, did I think I made the right choice? I didn’t think about the race anymore, and I didn’t worry about how far I still had to go or how fast I was going or how I looked or how tired I was. But I thought about how hard I worked to be there, and how much energy I wasted. And all the people who believed in me, and how sad they’d be to hear I didn’t cross the finish line. Today, some people let a gun go off that ends their race forever. I wonder if they think the same way about their race as I do about mine. And I wonder if they believe they made the right choice. Because I don’t, but I’m still here. And I’m still able to face my fears, but I don’t have to run anymore to do it.