We always started together, a group of us, a team,

On the same line, ready to race.

We wear the same white discolored bib, outlined in black.

But, each of these bibs show a difference;

Smooth, clean, wrinkled, or ripped, each with its own identity

We lined up, breaking off from the line at the same time.

There’s a set course to run through,

But how we run through it, is a choice.

How I run through it, is a choice.

The trees in the background, 

Offering shade, but only partially.

The heat, still feeling overpowering.

Six lanes present themselves, 

The bold white lines,

Each one separating your lane from everyone else’s. 

We have to make choices, but what is correct?

Start off too fast?

Pace off of others?

I have to make choices, but what is correct?

When should I focus on my own pace?

When do I race on my own?

Looking around, there are always people staring.

Some stare at you silently, 

You feel their looks digging into you.

But when listening, you hear the people that matter.

The cheering and screaming, 

These are the people who lift you up.

The questions asked will be confusing,

Never answered by anyone,

Never easily answered by yourself.

Why do you do it?

Basing yourself off of other runners. 

They run their own race,

And you run yours. 

The light weight of your watch on your wrist,

Overpowered by the heavy weight of pressure.

Make the right decision, be fast enough, don’t mess up. 

Don’t slow down,

But don’t go too fast,

Go at your own pace, don’t let the decisions of others interfere. 

We started together, but where are they now?

Running their own race,

And running at their own pace. 

We started together, but where am I now?

Am I running my own race?

Am I running at my own pace?

Around the last bend, you can see it in sight;

The final stretch, so close, but yet, so far. 

The bold colored line that decides everything in the end.

And then, I realize, you have to run alone.

Even though we all start together, we always end up in the unknown.