1..2..3
Breaths count
Quietly 
Pat pat pat
Sneakers hitting
The worn track
In and out
Chest heaves
Up and down
At first so easy
Getting wheezy
Finish always seeming
Just out of reach
Holding on
For so long
Why? For pride?
Never getting further
Just telling myself so
This is a pointless dream
It's wearing me out 
I need to let go
So I stand still
And let the track
Move me back
Hit the floor 
With a dull thud
It hurts at first
But I am free
From the endless race
To be the best
And accepting that
I have won
Without ever really needing
To run
Power down
Treadmill off
Finally free
A victorious loss