A Different View of Being Held Up At Gun Point

It’s like standing at the starting line of a race…only I’m the only one running. I brace myself in the starting position. Fingers touch the burning ground, knees bent, eyes scanning the distance I have yet to cover. I glance over at the commencement manager…gun in hand…it seems he has no intention of signaling me to begin…it seems as if that ear wrenching sound of his gun shot will never ignite.

Complete anticipation…

This is what I’ve been training for. This is what I’ve been pushing myself towards for longer than I can remember. A goal set so simple and clear in the obvious turns of the winding track before me.

My mind’s racing. For a moment everything has stopped…the sound of the crowds drowned out in my one too many thoughts watching his finger as it touches the trigger…
Watching…waiting…wanting more than ever to break free of this imprisoning straddle.

I can already see myself running…unaware of my scorched fingers from the burning ground or the rawness of my suddenly unbuckled knees. Unaware of even the challenges that may lie ahead.

But all that matters is starting…all I can think of is the moment where that gun shot allows every part of my body, every part of my completely focused mind, to come to life.

: : : And I don’t know…I could crash and burn but maybe at the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me. So I won’t worry about my timing, I want to get it right. No comparing, Second guessing, no not this time : : :

— Sober, Kelly Clarkson —