just a poem from school about track.
Meet Day

Power bars, Gatorades and shot blocks are tucked away

Like hidden pockets of energy

Adidas sweats, Northface jackets and Nike shoes

Are their protective shields

Ponytails, French braids and buns

Hold back the hair of sixty nervous girls

Warming up correctly, hitting splits and PR’ing

Is everyone’s main focus.

Everyone is lined up at the starting line, shaking out their muscles and fiddling with their watches

The announcer calls for runners set, and they step forward

Off goes the gun

And ahead goes the crowd

Legs are moving like they are being controlled by a machine

Perfect strides and their arms are swinging fast

Commanding their legs to go faster

Click, click, click go the spikes on the track

For the runners ahead, there’s no looking back

Swiftly swinging their limps

Who can cross that line first?

Thump, thump, thump the blood is pounding like the

Thick sound of a song on the crowded dance floor

The 100-meter runners’ feet look as if they can’t keep up with their bodies

The hurdlers finish their last set, lead leg, trail leg, and sprint towards that line

The relay runners channel enough energy to yell “stick!” as they hand off the baton

The 3000 runners push their legs of jello to that finishing shoot 50 feet away.

The slip they give to the runners, the place they received written in thick black Sharpie marker

Is a prize saying, “I did it, I finished!”

The night dark is soft under their feet with pity

But strong with pride

The smell of determination and will power is in the air

Looking around, the girl from lane 1 gets a smile from the girl in lane 3

Unsure because lane 3 falling 2 seconds behind her would’ve been the definition of glee

It’s over, it’s done, the race has been run

Legs feel like pieces of stocky, heavy wood, and are hard to move

Foreheads damp with sweat, the salty taste on everyone’s skin

Fix a loose hair band; shake the other competitors hand

Like a lion that has captured prey, they are proud and walk off the track.

The spikes come off and the layers come on

Relief; the feeling that ends a stressful situation

That is how everyone feels

There is the girl that got cut off who is feeling red

The boy whose leg hit the hurdle knows he could’ve been more precise

The girl who dropped the baton can feel the disappointment in the air

But the boy who sped across the line and claimed first, he is feeling yellow

The girl who cleared all the sets of hurdles knew this was the best race of her life

The boy who yelled “stick!” at the perfect time can feel the excitement as his team is given first prize

Then you hear the gun

And know that there is one final race to be run.