I was lined up to represent my grade school in the 100 meter dash. I had friends on the side lines talking shit to members of other schools, saying I was gonna win. Other schools were saying the same about their representative.
I have to admit, I was feeling cocky. I was a fast kid, and I was certain I was much faster than anyone that was pitted against that day. I actually felt untouchable. I figured they might as well give me that 1st place ribbon right now.
The time had come for the sprinters to get in position. Everything felt good. I was excited for my upcoming sucess, and couldn’t forsee any potential problems.
They fired the starting pistol, everyone took off, and the pack moved quickly down the track. Except me. I slipped with both feet, and ended up face down, flat on the ground.
Anxiety quickly took over me. I doubted myself and any potential success. I didn’t trust my abilities anymore, I didn’t trust the situation. I was off to a very rocky start.
It crossed my mind to just stand up, shake my head, and accept failure. I couldn’t catch up to the pack, forget winning the damn thing. I almost threw it in. I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t cross the finish like, 5 seconds after the second last guy. I felt embarassed. Like I had been made a fool of. My confidence was low. I questioned myself.
I said fuck it. Fuck this.
I dug deep. My feet tore into the track. Head down for the first 30 metres. Lifted my head and I was entering the crowd. Pushed as hard as I could, flew to the front of the pack. Created a last second showdown between the current leader and myself. I edged him out. I had a strong finish.
It was a rocky start, full of uneasiness, anxiety and doubt.
It was a strong finish. I smiled big. (And you know I smile big) It felt great.
The feelings I had at the beginning quickly diminished. Taken over by feelings of confidence, pride, and accomplishment.
It was a rocky start. It took some work, but it was a strong finish.