Nemesis
I felt like my lungs were fit
to burst but I was being spurred on.
Spurred on by the very person who would never know but I certainly knew
him. He was called Nemesis.
We both turned up religiously
every Saturday, I would see him and he would probably see me I guess but he
would never really know me. The most
frustrating thing about our meet was that he confounded me by always finishing
ahead of me. I had to find something
within that would turn frustration into inspiration.
I’d try to ignore his presence
at the start but my gaze was always drawn back to his stupid baggy shorts. I’d pretend he wasn’t there which in turn was
very difficult as he was always in front of me.
I’d slag him off under my breath and wish for the God of all stitches to
play havoc with his performance. Worse
than that, he turned up week in, week out with his gimpy knee strapped up. Jeez, he wasn’t even fit and yet he owned
me. Damn you Nemesis! He’d miss a week then I’d miss a week but we
were largely better than regular attendees so my whole event would be hijacked
week after week with such mockery.
Then came the day. 1k, usual.
2k, usual. 3k, usual. Ho hum!
4k, wait a minute, only twelve runners between us. Right then, quick physical. Legs?
Aye, not too bad. Lungs? Not too bad either. Pace?
Room for improvement.
Determination? Oddly, reported
for duty late but suddenly inspired. Ten
runners, eight, seven, five, nearly there.
I was coming to get you Nemesis and you had no clue. Four, two, Nemesis and then the trees. Those damned trees. Just when you think it’s in the bag at the
trees, it’s not. There's three hundred metres to go and that finish line just
seemed to keep disappearing into the distance but that was all in my head. I surge past, victory will be mine at last. I heard the thump of rubber on asphalt behind
me. Was this his push to snatch victory
back from my hands? No matter the line was
but strides away then yes, yes, yes, job done and he’ll never know but I sure
as hell did.
In the finish funnel came a
congratulatory pat on my back and as I turned to chat thinking I knew who it would
be, it wasn’t. Indeed the participant
behind me thanked me for an inspirational sprint to the line as for week upon
week I had been, well, HIS Nemesis! My
Nemesis? He finished four behind as he
was out sprinted by others who in turn were likely chasing theirs too.
I absolutely love this and it must hold true for so many parkrunners out there, whether they be back, middle or front of the pack runners. We all have our own parkrun nemesis!
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