3…2…1… Pheeeeew!!!
The whistle blew.
Sue let her fingertips dust of the dirt beneath her, and her thigh muscles, which had contracted for long now, finally swallowed causing her legs to spring into an automatic sprint. She ran on the tips of her feet, feeling like she was running on the clouds. Her hands slicing through the air, she could feel the pressure on her biceps now. 10 meters done Sue. Come on.
Around her, she could faintly hear all of ninth grade screaming “Susan! Susan! Susan!”
She could see the track ahead of her and nothing more.
Alishia, the continuous champion for 2 years, was right in front of her. Not even 3 meters away. Sue was not letting her have the trophy for a third time. No. Way.
40 meters left. Alishia was still ahead of her. Sue realizing that she could now change her track, decided to use her ‘lucky left’ strategy, and raising her speed, ran towards the left-most area of the track. As expected – wished and hoped – Alishia was victimized by this sudden alter and it only took a second for things to change. Sue was now the first runner nearing the red line, the crowd, the screams and the coaches.
7 meters left.
Sue could feel Alishia reaching her, yet the distance between Sue and Alishia was too much, and between Sue and victory – too less.
As Sue ran the last 2 meters, she closed her eyes to feel just the cool wind race against her. She was going to win this. At last. Finally.
And she did.
As she finally slowed down about ten meters from the red line, she walked a meter or two and came to a halt. She obtained a feeling of satisfaction. Her heavy breathing was slowly coming back to normal. She raised both her hands to place on her hairline and wiped her sweat - a cold breeze blew against her.
She bent down to relax her body, stretch her leg muscles and let her hands loose. As she stood back up again, a noisy crowd gathered around her.
In no time, as it seemed to Sue, she was handed the trophy, a picture was clicked, friends were talked with, and she was back home, thinking about the glorious day.
She was now officially the fastest runner of the Pacific Collegiate School.
------
That was 20 years ago. Sue smiled as she slowly walked towards a photo frame placed on her dressing table. The photo was of a thin, muscled, smiling 14-year-old with green eyes and sweaty black hair tied in a ponytail. She held a golden trophy with happiness in her eyes. Behind her was a middle-aged man with blue eyes and blonde hair. He wore a black tracksuit and a red cap on his head which read ‘P.C.S’ - Pacific Collegiate School – as Sue thought of it then.
Pain ran through her. Mr.Zerrilli, the best coach.
“Huh…” Susan sighed, thinking of how much had changed since then.
Why did it have to be him?
She walked towards the beige sofa in her living room of her beach house in California. “if only I hadn’t gone there…if only I had not done it….” Sue’s thoughts trailed off as Micheal Jackson’s ‘Heal the World’ played in the background from her home audio system. She lay down on the couch; it had been a very busy and hard day for the manager of the Surf and Sand Resort. She thought of the years that had gone by. Her thoughts decreased speed as they reached that one year, in which everything had changed drastically. 29th February, 1968.
Sue was glad that that date did not come every year.
As she trailed off towards unconsciousness, Sue involuntarily hoped that she would not have yet another dream about that time.
But we don’t control our dreams, do we?
