50 meters in, adrenaline starts settling in. Hoping to win the race, preparing myself for what I'm about to face. But, I got to the road of slacking and cheating. Not cheating others, but just myself.
Now while I am running, I am contemplating...
If my body can win, at its current health.

200 meters in, I am in a good position to win. I guess all that last minute work and practice got me fit enough to keep dominiation. I am happy with my results, and can't wait to cross the finish line.

250 meters in, I stumbled terribly. I went from first place, to last place. Now I have to make up all this work, to make it to first place. I need to work twice as hard, as any of the competitors. I feel like a retard, I can't do anything right. I'm the one trying to fight, to try to make everything right. I curse every step, extra effort have to take, even though the goal is what I really do want to make. All that practice was for nothing, that's what I think as I keep running.

350 meters, its the last round, and I'm running out of time. Just trying to motivate myself, galvanizing my mind. Encouraging my place, increasing my pace. Damn, I dug a hole for myself, now I just need to climb out. I'm trying, huffing and puffing, knowing first place is not coming. I aim for second, and I am too late. Procrastination, made and deemed my fate. Shaped it in ways I can even fixate.

It's my last 50 meters, exhilaration has filled my heart. I am almost done, my pain and fear has came and gone. I know now I am no longer alone, racing with others to get home. The finishline represents security and accomplishment, something I needed ever since. Ever since the beginning, it is something I aimed and yearned for. Crossing the line would be my end to a beginning, a symbol for a new ending. Setting me to a new course to the world.

400 meters, a great journey, from beginning to end.