The Race

For a moment we are frozen.

The room seems to pause, like a DVD sticking;

There is a hushed expectance as our ears reach for the beep we know is coming,

the beep that means it's time.

And then the sound shatters the moment, and my world seems to explode.

For an instant I am suspended in the air, and then I slam into the jarring impact.

The rolling waves have swallowed me;

I find my way to the surface, but even as I do I am thrashing with all my might.

Desperately pushing and pulling at the thick molasses that has replaced the air,

I hear nothing but the gentle murmur that is the sound of underwater,

The high-pitched gasp of my inhale, the muffled roar of my underwater exhale;

And of course, the cracking, splashing din that comes from my fierce, chaotic strokes and kicks.

I am wrestling with the water;
throwing it behind me as I drag myself towards the smooth metal wall in the distance. 
Knowing I cannot stop for anything; knowing every second I must work to try harder,

To throw myself more devotedly into this effort.

I cannot hear the scream of the crowd,

But I know it is there;

I can feel the energy in the air, and I know that all around me 
others are fighting me.

I am vaguely aware of my opponents around me, but I cannot fully analyze if I’m succeeding or failing. 
The world has narrowed to the task of closing this distance, 
closing it as fast 
as I humanly can
and faster.

And my mind is bellowing one word: GO! GO! GO!

My lungs are shrieking, my body is gasping. And my every muscle is focused on pressing on.

And then above me I see the timekeepers watching me, coming closer and closer! I throw myself the last few feet and slam both hands into the wall.

I’m here.

Almost as fast as it started, the swirling chaos fades away. I listen to my breath, loud and deep, cleansing.

As fast as the race began, it is over.