I am a tremendous front runner…always showing blazing speed right from the gate.  Out in front is where I belong. There is no kickback when you are in the clear. So, I battle hard to maintain my position. My head is down, my steps are fluid. Out of respect, the wind parts to let me pass. Politely I accept…in hopes that the offer will be made again. Next time it will be needed. But when? I have never been a good judge of distance. I am only bred to go fast, the rest…I leave up to my handlers.   A dangerous concession, regardless of the outcome. So I press on, the smell of fresh clover and damp moss
permeate my quivering nostrils. A brief respite before the true racing will begin. I think back to when I was real…chasing wayward butterflies…kissing the purple sky in a faraway meadow. What was once a burgeoning horizon are now only darkening memories from a former life that suddenly feels like it never actually existed. With what little light is left…
I sheepishly try to force a smile…but the lactic acid overflowing from my lungs stings my mouth until I agree to keep it shut. Punishment for clinging to my identity. Repeatedly,
I am asked to give more, and repeatedly my response is the same…
hesitant insurrection. There are never any allies… only accidental foes lying in wait. The surface that used to feel like a springboard, is now as thick as molasses. My legs that once danced with the breeze, now feel heavy and rigid…my machine like stride shortening
under the weight of expectation. The blur of my surroundings, I no longer recognize.
Clearly, I am far from home. Oh to be back amongst the quiet of my thoughts. The wind grumbles louder now…carrying the rumbles of those who stalk my tracks. There will be no gifts this time…I will have to earn what I am owed. Am I up to the challenge?  Eventually, all of us will be caught… but the finish line is looming…much brighter than I recall. Soon I will be home…on the lead again.