I dragged my feet reluctantly to the finish line, swallowing
the bile that had risen inside my throat, anticipating what lay ahead. Exhaustion. De-hydration, possibly death.
I could hear Miss Fridd’s voice in the background, but what
she was saying was muffled by the blood pumping in my ears, making me almost
deaf.
My only sign that the death march had started was the other
victims were running around me. Without warning, I realized my feet were moving
as well, and at a dangerously fast pace, using up large amounts of my almost
non-existent energy.
Everyone seemed to be in front of me. In what little
thoughts I had, other than to keep running, I wondered how they were moving so
fast without collapsing.
My arms pumped hard, threatening to elbow, and severely injure
anyone who might have been lapping me. I could feel, rather than hear my short, jiggered breath as it passed through my dry throat.
My legs were screaming, refusing to go any more than a few centimeters with each step. I couldn’t start walking, not on my first lap, but
I doubted I could have stopped them without collapsing on the spot. I resisted
the long trip to the water fountain, which seemed like miles, not wanting a
stitch.
That was when my pains activated. I put a hand to the place
where my neck joined my shoulder, my skin clammy and cold, and would have
winced, if not for my already cringed brow. Again, it was aching.
I moved my hand back and forth, squeezing all the pressure
points. Adding to the protests in my leg, a string had been attached from my
thigh to my knee, and every time I moved, it was pulled taught. I squeezed my
eye lids tight to avoid screaming out in agony.
I passed Miss Fridd, her voice screaming something to me, but
I couldn’t hear. Probably shouting for me to keep going, and if I had had
enough energy, I would have sighed.
My friends were all running towards me, and automatically,
my mouth opened to shout congratulations to my friends, making myself feel
miserable.
I started to despair over ever breathing again. All I was
doing now was short gasps off air, barely enough to keep me from blacking me
out.
Everything was going blurred. The passing figures were
bursts of colour, and black spots were appearing everywhere, and bile rose into
my mouth. I quickly swallowed it, and reached out for the nearest thing to
steady me.
I fairly crawled the next few meters, before I set off
again. My only hope was to get there fast, and put an end to what seemed this
ever-lasting torture.
If possible, I was running even slower than before, my feet
barely moving as I threw them down in front of me.
Slowly a specific figure became more focused, and I realized
who it was. Jacqui, who had slowed down since I last saw her, was running at
the same pace as I, or at least as close as she could get. I do not think it is
possible to be running as slow, or slower, than I was.
She passed over a few jokes about how slow we were, and I
laughed, although the laughter hurt my ribs, and I tried to resist the urge to
laugh again, managing only in returning a comment.
Jacqui suggested running and walking, although I couldn’t
tell her when we were walking that I was truly jogging, and when running, well,
I suppose she noticed I was moving slower than her walk.
We passed Miss Fridd, who was screaming again. This time, I
was able to make out some words like ‘run’ ‘walk’, and ‘keep going.’ As if we
weren’t doing that already.
I wanted to sit down, relax, die, anything but run another
lap, but my legs kept moving down the track, knowing that I had to ‘keep
going.’
I was so exhausted, what before slightly resembled
breathing, now more resembled grunting. Eventually, Jacqui said she wanted to
run the rest of the way. I tried. I failed. She ran on ahead. Once at the top
of the hill, which seemed more like a mountain, I started to run about as fast
as a snail, then I stopped. I tried again, this time running more the pace of a
dead snail, barely moving at all.
I carried on, my senses dull, all energy lost, and body
aching. I went on for what seemed a life time before I reached what I supposed,
was the end. Miss Fridd was screaming again, and I guess I did what she was
telling me to do, because two words escaped my deafness. “You’re finished.”
I wanted to collapse, stop breathing, close my eyes for
good, anything but walk back to class.
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