Author: Mallory Bockelman
When I race, I’m MetaMal.
Meta meaning more, above, and beyond
The race begins easy.
Less sleep, more thoughts and energy.
Beginning slowly but always building
Becoming a force of ideas never ending
This race is not your Saturday morning 5k.
Lasts far more than just one day
One, two, three, four, five AM
Racing, speeding neurons to brain stem
Planning, plotting, all the best things about me
Funny how everything comes together
Racing again. Focus. Movement.
When I move you move.
Move to the location where you feel the most.
How the birds migrate toward the sun
This is exactly how I’ll run
This is good. No. This is great.
Possible until proven impossible.
Smart until proven smarter.
Okay now write it down, let me get a pen.
Wait where was I going with this again?
Now the race is too big, too fast.
Racing continues despite the torture.
Ferocious, frantic agony
The pain, the fear, life all out of order.
A finish line not met with applause or medals.
Race ending down long hallways in grippy socks
Under lock and key until the racing stops.