We all arrive at the starting line at the same time and the same place. We all registered and we were all counted individually as equals. No judgements made in the ether of anonymity that precedes the race. We are all counted as one.
While this is how competitive sports are engineered to perform what is egregiously absent from this oversimplified narrative is the real tally of blood, sweat and tears that have led up to this moment.
The doubt.
The second guessing.
The bouts of imposters syndrome that plague every one of us who have ever dared to reach beyond the bounds of conscripted castes and challenge ourselves.
The dragons we’ve all slayed in the weeks leading up to this moment.
The suffering and crippling doubt.
Then the wave collapses and suddenly it’s zero hour, nine am. Everything you’ve worked for, every drop you’ve dripped, and every blood you’ve ever sweated coalesce into this one pinpoint focused singularity of truth. It’s now or never.
Shotgun start. And you’re off.
The only failure is not trying.
Mannino Acid 