The crowd roared in anticipation of what was to come. The athletes got to their starting positions. Jonathan Middleton went to his own. Everything seemed like a dream to him. It only seemed like a few days ago when he was named as one of the runners in the World Under 18’s 200m Sprint Championship. He had been waiting for the opportunity ever since he was a little kid and now, as a senior in high school, he had got his chance.
He looked at the crowd. Pressure threatened to turn his insides out. He wanted to tell everyone that he was out, that he couldn’t handle it but he couldn’t do that to his family or his coach. He couldn’t do that to himself. He had faced such hardships to get where he was. He couldn’t just throw it away. He had to run and he had to win. Swallowing his nervousness, he got down on his toes, ready to run out there.
The referee signaled to the runners that the race was about to start. Jonathan focused on himself and the work he did to get here. Remember your training. That was the final message his coach gave him before he got to the starting line. He closed his eyes and murmured a silent prayer to God. He could faintly hear the final countdown in the background. His life’s work came rushing back to him and a single voice spoke out in his head, his own, saying you can do this. Now, he was ready.
BOOM. The pistol sounded and the runners were off. Jonathan ran for all he was worth. His training kicked in and he sped past several athletes. He could hear the crowd yelling as he ran but their voices were distant; like they were calling to him from another planet. He sneaked a look ahead of him. There were three runners dead ahead. Jon pushed himself to run harder. The runners were at the half way mark.
Suddenly, he overtook one runner, then the second. In the last leg of the race, he was chest to chest with leading athlete. Jon again sneaked a look at his opponent. It was a dangerous move, one that could leave him trailing in the dust if he wasn’t careful, but he made his move very subtly. As he looked over, a new wave of fear ruled him. Running next to him was Anthony Malaike, the 4 time winning runner from South Africa. Jon cursed at himself.
He shouldn’t have looked over. With this new fear, he tried to put some distance between himself and Malaike but the reigning champion saw the move and increased his own speed. By now, Jon could see the finish line. It appeared that his opponent could too as he ran past Jon. Jon tried to run faster but his mind was distracted. He was afraid of losing, having worked so hard for something and now thinking that he would lose. His mind was filled with thoughts that he would fail his family and himself, that he would never be welcomed back to the Games. As his mind wandered off, Jon began to slow down but almost immediately his mind fought his lost hope. No. He had been through too much to lose sight of himself here.
It didn’t matter if he won or not. What mattered to him was whether he gave the race his best shot. All this happened to Jon in seconds though it felt like a few hours. Jon reached inside himself and put on a sudden burst of speed. He approached Malaike and crossed him by a whisker to touch the finish line and seal his victory. Now, years later, while he goes on in pursuit of his love for athletics, his victory is engraved in the minds of his people and to them, he is a hero.