I was held at gun point once…
A long time ago, but not so long for those twice my age, I stood at my first State Meet. Nervous as hell, and to this day I have no clue what I did for a warm up, I stood in an awkward manner full of teenage limbs minutes before the race began. It was chillingly cold, adding to the fully bloomed anxiety whose numbness was already gripping. Such dread and anticipation! Mostly from that fall morning there comes a recollection of a certain hotness begging to already be three minutes into the race, settling down into a rhythm instead of held a motionless hostage by the gun and mere slaves to the start line.
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