A Run in the Park by: Muhammad Raza

 A Run in the Park

by: Muhammad Raza

THIS HURTS SO BAD

I’m dying. My lungs are desperately clinging on to every molecule of oxygen that they can, my legs are on fire, and I’m about to reach the stupid 300-meter hill. My left shoe is loose and it’s about to come off, so I can’t even go as fast as I want. 

Why am I doing this? What made me want to run again? Oh no, the hill’s almost here. 

Somehow, despite my pain, I pass another guy who seems like he’s given up, not physically but mentally. He was ahead of me the whole race, and he doesn’t even look that tired, but I guess looks can be deceiving in this sport. 

I make a turn off the gravel straightaway and finally reach the hill of doom and despair. I get a little bit of adrenaline as I start to climb it, but it’s not enough to mask the pure agony I’m in right now. My quads feel like overworked machines on the verge of collapsing, my heart is beating out of its chest, and negative thoughts cloud my head. Even a movement as simple as looking down at my watch to check my pace feels impossible. 

In the midst of this anguish, though, I hear my teammates cheer me on.

“Come on Raza, you got this! Work that hill!” 

What do you think I’m trying to do here!? 

By the time I crest this mountain, I’m basically dry-heaving.

Dang it, why did I choose this sport? 

To my absolute bewilderment, I am in second place right now, but there’s a 50-meter gap between me and the next guy. As I drag myself across a grass straightaway, I see my coach. He points to the guy in front of me and says:

“Come on, you want to beat him, he’s your target”.

Coach, I’ll be surprised if I make it to the end of this race. I do NOT want to beat him.

As I make my way towards the last mini-hill, another one of my coaches says.

“Use that down-hill, Muhammad, you’re almost there!”

I’m having trouble using my legs, what do you mean use the downhill?!

As I reach the last 0.1 of this 3.1-mile race, I find a second gear and start speeding up a little bit like I’ve done before in practice. However, that loose shoe from a mile back is not a faithful companion, and launches off of my left foot as I pick up speed. 

Wait I must look pretty cool right now, trying to get first place with one shoe on. 

I’m speeding up and the gap is closing, closing, closing.

I can beat this guy, just 50 more meters!

Unfortunately, he also has some more juice left in him and starts accelerating to beat me out. The gap is too large for me to get down by the time we reach the end. Swimming through lactic acid and wobbling with one shoe on, I cross the finish line in second place. 

My coach helps me stay standing near the finish. With slurred, intelligible words, I ask him. 

“What did I run, coach?”

“17:47 kid, great job”

Wait that’s so good, I can’t wait to do this again in a week!.