"You know that feeling before a race?"
I ask my mom and she takes the bait.
"No sweetheart, what's it like?"
"It's when your heart clenches up really tight."
She sighs and I leave the room.
Thoughts still hum in time with the vacuum.
When you take a deep breath because there's no air,
But as soon as you're running it finds you there.
Straight out of the starting blocks, and your feet are on fire
Racing ahead at a million miles an hour.
I climb up the stairs, take them two at a time.
I hear the clock as it sounds off a chime.
Arms pump in time to my heart's every beat.
Legs moving faster on spikes than on sneaks.
I can't help but slam the door, my fingers shake for the taste of more.
All thoughts blank except for one.

"You're a winner, you just have to run." You stare straight ahead and it comes into view, the last couple meters. It has to be you.
I'm entranced by the vision as I sit on my bed, my leg keeps on drumming a beat in my head.
You cross and the air leaves your lungs. Heaving and stretching and making things tough. You've finished the race. They say that you've won. A feeling of pride engulfs everyone."
Then I'm back on my bed in my tiny old room.

Track season is coming. Track season's soon.