We all knew it was there.
We'd come down it the first mile
of this out-and-back half.
For the next 11, though,
we forgot about it,
losing it to the vexations of the race,
the small victories and defeats
of each step,
the undulating bike path,
the splits, surges, water stops,
camaraderie, colors, conversation.
And yet it stood there
waiting for us,
waiting to greet us again at 12 miles,
to mock us,
to sap our strength
our determination,
to squeeze our lungs,
reducing stride to shuffle,
to tempt us
with Eden's garden of walking paths,
to test us now
when the smell of the finish line
fills our nostrils,
overwhelms all consciousness,
to remind us
that no one is ever home free.
