I feel like I am this athlete who waited for the resounding gunshot to snap me off my seemingly immobile stance and push me to run. I was unmoving for a very long time. Then I started running, and there's no turning back from there on. It's a race to the finish line. And as is every runner's ultimate goal, I want to reach the finish line though I don't necessarily emerge a champion. I'm a winner in my own right just by deciding to run and finish the journey.

I am not good in racing. I never win. But I'm proud to say that I don't stop in the middle and quit. I just go for it. I just let my legs carry me to my destination. And today, I started running again like I just can't stop, like my legs are transporting me beyond my control. And it doesn't feel like racing anymore, because who am I actually racing with but myself? I'm just probably running after my future and trying to grab it no matter how bleak the horizons seem.

I'm so scared, of where I will be and of what I will become. I'm so scared that by running too much, the dust that gathers behind might blur my vision at the back. I'm so scared that by running and running, I come across my starting point once again. I'm scared of the overwhelming permutation of possibilities ahead of me. I'm scared that if I'm not able to control my pacing, I might stumble and fall. I'm scared of running, but I'm running anyway.

I'm running towards a new life. Lots and lots of good memories trail behind me.
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