The touchpad comes within reach, and so, just as I trained- I reach. This small amount of time has left my body almost useless. I’ve come within moments of completely depleting my body. My muscles continue to constrict and relay thoughts to my brain, constantly pleading to quit. At this moment I resist the urge, knowing I’m only feet from the finish. I feel every detail, and as if on cue, time slows for me. First, the rapid clashing of my heart grows louder; the pulsing of my heart screams as if it’s trying to escape, smashing against the insides of my chest. It is at its limit- about to burst. Yet I push on. Saying so doesn’t make it any easier, even in the last second pain has grown to near excruciating. My lungs are pushing to the top of my throat, screaming to be released. Yet I push on. Time has slowed more than expected, and I feel all the pain is too much. I have to ignore it for one last second. I focus my eyes to the depths below. I simply pay attention on the solid black line that now consumes my sight. With the soft whooshing sound, and the swirling of the water on the insides of my ear, my body finally reaches peace. It reaches a serenity that gives me the power to focus leaving me the power to finish. The tip of my finger barely touches the tough black pad that will end it all. This simple moment ends it, and so I push through the last barrier and feel my fingers break into a fist from the force of my final efforts releasing. The fist signifies the triumph finish, the end, the success of holding on and pushing through no matter the result. My body is now refreshed and cleansed of the sickness holding me back; time has restored itself. Energy begins surging back into my body and I breathe deeply, thankful for the finish. Then my eyes move to the sky, looking for the results of my efforts. Another best time- and I smile- then frown. Although I’ve moved forward it’s not good enough. It pushes me to rage, a simple rage to be more exact a rage that fuels the body. My mind is now off the race and to tomorrow, reflecting on the past critically, realizing what must be done for when I return. My fire has been aroused from the candle it seemed to be. It becomes uncontrollable and furious, stricken with humiliation, not from the world, but from the rage that pushes me on. It sees nothing but what can be done. The fire now feeds and consumes until it has done what it has intended. Now with this fire I will be consumed, focused, and strong. I will return to finish off what I dreamed to do.