Lungs gasp for air, in the salty breeze.
Feet pound the dusty, dirt road, pushing for a faster time.
The weight of a nation weighs heavy.
Taking each calculated step until the finish line,
Years of practice feels like an hour.

Hours of preparation lead to nerves.
Exhausted, the weary runner climbs the massive, rocky, moss covered temple steps. 
The king of the gods sits on his throne, watching, judging and guiding.
If he was to stand, he would take the roof off his temple.
Inspiring awe and reverence upon whoever enters his temple.

He serves as a leader.
Weary people look for advice.
Advice he provides with a calm, looming presence.
A calming voice booms with words of encouragement.
An anxious athlete scrapes himself off cold limestone and exits.

The hot sun beats down, leaving behind a hazy, hot, and dusty dirt track.
Looking left and right, red, yellow, and green fill peripheral vision.
Butterflies that filled his stomach, now have flown away.
The weight of a nation weighs heavy.
Sprinting across the finish line, the prickly, olive branch crown was placed on his head.